#chain store but seems just different enough for people who want to fit in but also look like they're cool and edgy and have unique opinions
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DAN AND PHIL RETURN????????
#idk what I'm gonna do abt this /srs#like. I thought their videos were fun but that was 5 years ago so who knows about if I still will#and y'know obviously toxic community and annoying fans.#whatever I'll watch some and make a decision based on that I guess.#idc if they're cringe#well I mean. idc if it's cringe to watch them.#but Dan very much was leaning into that 'I'm a weirdo normal people scare me' thing that people who are only one degree removed from#normality do. so if he's leaned into that any more I don't think I'll be able to stand his 'I'm not a normie' normie ass. but I also know#he's been doing a lot of self-reflection and healing and whatever so maybe he'll be better now.#like he was so desperate to distance himself from who he used to be that he needed to make fun of everything he could have been perceived as#and make himself feel like he's better than people like that. everything from being 14 to being alternative to being a furry he needed to#make fun of all that cringe to prove that he wasn't that. y'know? he desperately wanted to be normal while still capitalizing on the 'I'm#different' thing. like his merch/clothing brand was all minimalist quirky-dark aesthetic for example. stuff you could 100% find in a big#chain store but seems just different enough for people who want to fit in but also look like they're cool and edgy and have unique opinions#like. he's the *woman in a pink tailored pantsuit* 'she's so butch!' of weird and alternative.#last I checked at least. like I said; I think he's been doing a lot of personal growth so maybe he's gotten more ok with actual weirdness.#man I didn't mean to rant in the tags here O_o sorry lol.#ThornShadow.said#(also for the record Phil is a little cringey but it's genuine so it's ok. as opposed to Dan trying to make everything 8 levels of ironic)
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Give Me A T!
Itâs amazing how some brands have such cachet that they create cult-like followings, and even collector markets that find people willing to pay big bucks for things you and I would find rather ordinary. McDonaldâs has long been a hot brand, not just among fast food fans, but also collectors who seek out Happy Meal toys. Coca-Cola is a darling among collectors, who save anything and everything with the company name on it. Iâm looking at my 1950s-era Coca-Cola soda bottle machine right now, along with a similarly old metal ice chest.
Three thousand bucks takes them both.
And then thereâs the quirky and immensely popular Trader Joeâs chain of grocery stores. With 591 units in 43 states and territories, they have a fiercely loyal following of upper-middle class, educated shoppers who clamor to buy their house brands. A typical TJâs has about 4000 items, of which about 85% are private label. They are proud of the diversity of offerings within that narrow amount, willing to take chances on things, yet also cognizant of the fact that their shoppers will drop whatever they are doing each fall when the pumpkin-based products are released.
TJâs also produces a slew of state- and city-themed reusable shopping bags, and, as you may have already guessed, collectors love them. My wife has sold dozens of them on eBay, sometimes for as low as $5 (they cost $1 in stores), to much more. In fact, she sold our two Oklahoma bags to the same woman for $98. Thatâs some serious TJâs love there. Or Oklahoma. We didnât care.
And now TJâs finds itself once again all the rage on eBay, first this spring with canvas mini tote bags, and now mini coolers. I noticed numerous eBay postings in the $40-50 range for the coolers, although I have seen as high as a $100 asking price. I stopped at TJâs in Albuquerque yesterday, hoping to score a few, but they were sold out. I have no problem with flipping merchandise like this when the payoff can be so huge.
Iâm not sure what it is about Trader Joeâs that makes them such a fan favorite, because no one seems to care about Kroger, Publix, or anyone else. Even Aldi, which is related to TJâs by family ownership, doesnât get so much as a second notice on eBay.
The first TJâs was opened in Pasadena by Joe Coulombe in 1967, and became a hit in SoCal. Joe had earlier started Pronto Market convenience stores in 1958, but he wanted to do something different from what others, like 7-Eleven, were doing. His new concept, small in size and offering, proved to be genius. The South Seas theme was good window dressing.
In 1979, Joe sold his company to Theo Albrecht, co-founder of the Aldi grocery chain with his brother Karl. The Albrechts were based in Germany, but a family dispute saw them splitting the company into two divisions, Aldi Nord (which Theo ran) and Aldi Sud, which Karl oversaw. Thus, TJâs today is owned by Aldi Nord, while the Aldi we see in the US today (now about 2400 stores) is owned by Aldi Sud. They share many similarities in store size, product assortment, and reliance on private labels, but have very different target markets.
While US Aldi stores will try to fit into a variety of neighborhood demographics, Trader Joeâs is very fussy about where they go. Amarillo will probably never have enough of the right demos to get one; Lubbock was also turned down. TJâs rather likes this hard-to-get strategy, because it finds people like me knowing where all the TJâs are within six hours of home. I shop when I travel, and since I always have an ice chest with me, I can load up on perishables.
And sellable merch, when I can find it. Heck, there are even people who sell TJâs Everything Bagel seasoning and other food products on eBay, but I have not tried that yet.
The marketer in me is in love with all of this. It is hard to find such a loyal group of customers, and TJâs guards this bounty quite well. They do little or no advertising, focusing instead on a basic website and podcast. They donât do curbside or delivery, and you will never find a self-check stand. Itâs all about the experience, as well as interacting with employees, from clerks stacking cans, to the person ringing you up.
Ahoy, Matey! Don your flowery shirt and letâs have some fun selling groceries! It is my not-so-secret ambition that, after I retire from WT, Iâll find a job somewhere at a TJâs, stacking cans and telling customers stories about the fine products they are beholding.
And Iâll continue to be on the lookout for these mini coolers. Iâll be in Dallas next weekend, then Little Rock, Memphis, and Atlanta in early July, followed by a huge trip through the PNW. You know what Iâll be doing. Iâll also be listening to their latest podcasts, and eating TJâs road food I get along the way.
While I donât see fit to start yet another collection, I am not opposed to helping others in their quest. I love everything this company is doing to feed Americans, relying on a less-is-more ethos. I donât need 45,000 items. Four thousand is plenty, and if I and all the other TJâs fans canât find everything we need, we can all go to Kroger, Publix, or wherever to get the rest.
And Iâll be putting mine in a TJâs reusable bag. Take that!
Dr âCowboy Caviar Salsa For The Winâ Gerlich
Audio Blog
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đ with peter getting a chain and itâs hot maybe nsfw (totally not inspired by that video of tom)
nsfw ahead! minors dni <3
no fr. like everyoneâs coming over to pregame at yours and peterâs the first to show up, obviously, because heâs a loser with a huge crush on you and was the only one to respond to your text in the groupchat asking if someone can come by with chasers.
when you open the door, your jaw nearly drops when you notice the thin silver chain hanging over the neck of his fitted black t-shirt.Â
âwhat is that?â you raise an eyebrow, and he blushes at how close you are to him as you roll the chain between your fingers.
âuh, itâs a chain.â
âsince when do you wear jewelry?â
âsince aunt may converted to all gold and didnât want this anymore,â peter shrugs, walking past you to set down the grocery bags on your kitchen table. âi got orange juice and coke.â
âoh, you have coke? okay, fezco,â you tease, knowing full well peter is nearly straight edge if it werenât for your tendency to force him to drink at your parties. peter rolls his eyes at your comment, smirking. itâs the smallest gesture but it makes your heart flutter in a way that it hasnât before when youâve been around the boy. he looks almost... cocky.
peter parker is a nerd. itâs what you like to tease him about even though itâs probably getting old as a joke, but you do whatever you can to help him gain more confidence as youâve gotten closer as friends. this included dragging him to thrift stores, messing up his hair to bring out his curls, and accompanying him in trying (a little bit of) weed so he can relax for once in his life.
but as more of your friends start to flood into your apartment, the more you notice peterâs little mannerisms and how they feel... different. it canât be just because of the stupid chain. though youâre realizing that you canât stop staring at it and the way it sits at the base of his neck.Â
youâve downed enough screwdrivers to feel the blood rushing to your head, so you stumble onto your couch and accidentally join in on a game of truth or dare slash spin the bottle, because harry insisted on playing but ned insisted on having the option to not kiss people.
ây/n, itâs all you,â mj says.
âhuh?â you blink up to everyone watching you. âdude, i canât play. if i kiss anyone tonight iâm just gonna drag âem straight to my room.â
you lock eyes with peter briefly right after your comment and you see a slight roseate flush on his cheeks. you wonder if itâs because heâs just as drunk as you.
âall the more reason, you little whore,â harry teases.
âshut up,â you snort, shoving him on the arm. âgive me a dare or something.â
âokay. i dare you to kiss whoever the bottle lands on. and then take them to your room,â harry grins.
you shrug nonchalantly. youâd already had a short-lived fling with harry, and anyone else in the room youâd kiss and probably roll a joint with in your room. you imagine the scenarios in your head as you spin the empty wine bottle, faces shifting in your mind, but they all seem to turn into one face.
peterâs. who also happens to be the chosen one by the bottle.
the whole circle starts to hoot as you roll your eyes at their expense. youâre too drunk to be this nervous. since when are you ever nervous? you decide to make it quick, pulling him by the chain closer to you as you kiss him gently.
harry boos loudly. âcâmonnnnn, you can do better than that, disney channel!â
peter doesnât know what hits him, but he kisses you again, but with more passion. your eyelashes flutter in surprise when his mouth is against yours again. his tongue peeks out to touch your bottom lip and you feel warmer than ever. your friends cheer.
âthanks for the show, you sluts,â harry sneers. ânow go, shoo.â
without exchanging a word, peter gets up and walks to your room as you follow. you grimace at the feeling of mj slapping your ass as you walk away, but she flashes you a cheeky grin.
âwe donât have to do anything,â you disclaim right when youâre able to close your bedroom door.
âoh,â peter nods, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face. âokay.â
âunless, you, like, want to. but i donât wanna make things weird.â
âright--â
âbut also, we just made out, so i guess it wouldnât be, um, that weird. i guess,â you stammer.Â
peter narrows his eyes at you with a smile. you keep blinking haphazardly like somethingâs in your eye. you still feel dazed from the kiss, even moreso at the sight of him casually sitting on your bed. wearing that stupid goddamn chain.
âyou okay?â
âyeah. yes! i just feel insecure about how messy my room is now,â you lie.
âlooks fine to me.â
âthanks,â you reply sheepishly. the two of you sit on your bed in silence. god, this is so fucking awkward.
ây/n, i--â
âcanikissyou?â
âwhat?â
âwhat?â
âi was going to say that i like you.â
your heart is fucking pounding.
âand i was going to ask if i could kiss you.â
âi would say yes.â
with a grin, you lock mouths again, this time with as much eagerness as possible as you climb into his lap. he kisses you down to your collarbone while his hands drift to your hips and you subconsciously rock your lower half towards him.Â
itâs like kissing him is making you even drunker. you pull him by the shoulders so that heâs on top of you, and for a second, he pulls away just to look at you and your blissed out face.
âyouâre so fucking pretty.â
âyouâre prettier,â you grin. the way his chain hangs over you makes you feel fucking insane.Â
within minutes, the both of you have managed to discard most of your clothes. peterâs hand rubs your thigh as he kisses you, nibbles on your neck and grins when he hears your tiny kitten moans. slowly, his fingers graze over the front of your underwear and his eyes widen just a bit when he feels how wet you are. you grab his hand yourself to shove down your panties out of impatience, and when he starts to cooperate and rub your bud gently, you have to bite your lip to suppress your moans.Â
âthis okay?â he whispers.
âmhm,â you murmur dreamily.Â
his mouth is slack as he watches you come undone for him. meanwhile, you canât keep your eyes off him either, how heâs hovering over you and breathing just as heavily at the sight of you grinding up into his hand. his chain bounces as he breathes and it makes you wetter by the second.
the more you whine in little whispers just for him to hear, the wider his lovesick smile gets.Â
soon enough, you feel it, the way his fingers cradle themselves into the sweet spot in your cunt. if your orgasm feels this good, you can only imagine how good his cock would feel buried inside of you.
ââm cumming,â you whimper. he covers your mouth with his hand and the sudden dominance excites you.Â
âshh,â he coos into your ear as you tremble through your high. âthatâs it. thatâs a good girl.â
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Hi Joy! So a whole back (like, I think years now) you and a lot of the disabled community rightly went off about reusable straws & how they aren't a fix all for replacing disposable straws for several reasons but specifically: cleanliness. It struck a chord in me, and I know more places are slowly taking on the No Straws thing so I am always on the lookout for reusable straws that would be able to be sterilized or at least scrubbed & verifiably clean with no nasty bits or mold being able to grow in it because they won't dry.
I've been trying all sorts lately (metal, plastic, a few wooden ones) and yeah, none really fit the bill. It kind of became a thing so now I just gravitate to new-looking reusable straws when we are in any store that may reasonably sell such things.
A few days ago, Hubby & I were at Ye Olde Walmart out of desperation (supply chain issues wheee) and I saw these on an end cap and the first thing out of my mouth was "OMG I need to show these to Joy!"
Cue a brief explanation of who you are and welp, into the cart they went. I believe they were $5.99, possibly $6.99, I have since lost the receipt.
May I present for your consideration: The Squeaky Clean Straw
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The big selling factor is you can open them to clean them! The pics were taken a few days ago. I have used one so far (after washing of course). For tea/water/etc, things without...bits? Pulp? It seems to work well! A little bit of that "hmm there's a small crack in my straw" feeling but not unmanageable or frustrating in that you're getting more air than liquid. I haven't yet tried these on stuff like OJ or smoothies, but for basic hydration, they do pretty well! They seem to do alright in hot drinks too.
These are silicon, so not any help for folks allergic I'm afraid, but I was hoping this could maybe be a fit for someone who wants to go reusable but fears the straw won't be clean enough! If you hate getting posts like these & I somehow missed it, my bad & feel free to delete! But if this could help someone out I'd love it if you shared w/ your followers.
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Thank you for the product rec, hopefully, those might be useful to some people. The price is nice too, considering I've seen straws just like this retailing at $20+
It is worth noting that the silicone used in these types of straws is not immune to biofilm build-up over time as the silicone starts to degrade, so it might not be suitable for those with severely decreased immune systems. (Plus dexterity issues. Holding them open to scrub can sometimes be tricky!)
I really wish I could get silicone straws to work for me because I feel like my immune system is in a better place to deal with any potential risks (it certainly wasn't this time two years ago). But for some reason, I still choke while using them. I think they're just too soft/require me to do something different that my jaw/tongue muscles can't handle. Very frustrating, but it is what it is, I'm afraid.
As per usual, this post is not an invitation for people to "solve" my need to use flexible plastic straws to drink fluids without aspirating. Nor is it an invitation to debate the validity of needing plastic straws to accommodate disabilities.
If you're curious about this subject and would like to know more, I'm going to ask that you watch this video from @jessicaoutofthecloset which explains it really well.
youtube
Thank you in advance, and please know if you try to start a debate with me over this, I will block you. Both because I don't want to debate my right to live as a disabled person vs your eco-activism, but also to keep you from getting annihilated in the comments.
The disabled community is very tired of the straw debate. The only reason I am posting this is because it was sent in good faith, informative about the product itself, and might help someone looking for alternatives :)
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Home
Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.
Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Content/Warnings: mentions of Dianaâs Alzheimerâs and Schizophrenia, prison, separation of father and daughter, swearing
A/N: i hope you guys enjoy my new fic! this may be about 8 chapters or so! iâm not sure yet, going to see how interested people are in the plot :) (also quick disclaimer: i have never been in the foster care system so please excuse any inaccuracies)
Masterlist
Chapter 1
Spencer never wanted his daughter to see him like this, being brought into the BAU bullpen in handcuffs. He was supposed to be the good guy.
Right now, he couldnât tell if he still was. He had good intentions going down to Mexico to get non-FDA approved medicine for his mom but he may have killed someone in the process. If only he could just remember.
Camellia ran into his arms to hug him, a hug he so desperately wanted to return if it wasnât for these stupid cuffs around his wrists.
âThey canât just take you away, Dad,â she cried.
âIâm so sorry, sweetheart. Iâm going to get back to you as soon as possible,â he promised, kissing the top of her head.
Spencer felt absolutely crushed as the guards had to drag his crying 11-year-old off of him so he could be taken to his holding cell.
-
You had just gotten off of work when your phone rang. Eileen, the head foster care coordinator, was calling.
âHello,â you answered.
âHey Y/N,â she greeted you, âI know you havenât had a foster kid in a few months but I kind of have an urgent case. 11-year-old sixth grade girl. Mom has been out of the picture for a while, Dad recently imprisoned and on trial for murder. There are a bunch of family friends willing to take her but no direct family,â she explained.
âI can take her for as long as she needs,â you told Eileen.
âGreat! Iâll text you the address, itâs the FBI headquarters.â
-
When you walked into the BAU, still in your dino scrubs and white lab coat, Eileen was surrounded by a frantic group of people.
âAs I said before, I donât doubt any of your credentials but this is the law. We can only give away a child to direct family at this point in time. If you are not direct family, you will need a lawyer to fight for custody as well as permission from her father but that process could take months,â Eileen stated.
âSpencer hasnât spoken to his father in years and his mother is in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimerâs,â a dark-haired woman spoke.
âExactly so she must be turned over to the foster care system. I apologize to you all but this is how it works. We canât bend the rules,â Eileen said.
âI donât want Callie fending for herself in a house with 20 other kids,â a blonde-haired woman argued, âIâm her godmother. She stays with me all the time. She was staying with me while Spencer was in Mexico.â
âSorry, my answer is still no. But, hopefully this will squash your concerns, Y/N!â she called you over, âThis is Y/N. Jo will be placed with her. She is a pediatric doctor and currently has no other foster kids at the moment but all of her past kids have absolutely adored her. She always passes her surprise safety and wellness checks with flying colors.
âHi,â you waved, intimidated by this huge group of frustrated people with guns on their hips.
âA doctor? So she isnât even going to be home most of the time,â a curly-haired man scoffed.
âActually, I own my own practice. I donât work at a hospital so I usually have a regular 8-4 shift unless one of my patients needs urgent attention,â you clarified.
âJJ, donât make me go,â a girl, who you could only assume was Callie, sobbed.
They were all staring at you like you were the worst person on Earth. You wanted to shrivel up and die. When you went through the process of becoming a foster parent, you thought this was a very admirable thing to do. You just wanted to provide a good home to kids in need.
âDo any of you have a key to Dr. Reidâs residence so Camellia can pack a bag?â you asked politely.
The woman closest to Callie that must be JJ pulled a key off of her chain and handed it to you.
âIâll-um-leave my phone number and address here so you guys can contact me at any time or stop by. I understand your concerns but please know I try my absolute hardest to make sure all kids feel welcome and safe in my house,â you scribbled your information down on a scrap piece of paper.
âAre you ready to go, Camellia?â you asked softly.
She went around hugging everyone in the circle before solemnly nodding to you.
God, you felt like such an asshole.
-
After Callie finished packing her things from her bedroom in relative silence, you returned to the car.
âI donât know what you like to eat but we can stop at the grocery store so we can get stuff you like and any other things you need,â you said.
You were met with silence from the backseat. You offered for her to sit in the passenger seat but she declined.
âListen, Iâm really not trying to be the bad guy here. Please donât make me out to be one. I know you are having a tough time with your Dadâs situation right now but shutting everyone else out wonât help,â you spoke softly, âTrust me, I know.â
You sighed when the silence continued. You pulled out of the Reidâs driveway and headed to the grocery store.
-
You let Callie lead when you entered the grocery store, opting to follow behind her with the cart. She went immediately to the frozen meal section and started throwing them in.
âCamellia, thatâs fine if those are what you want but just so you know, I love to cook so I can make you anything you want,â you offered.
âThis is what Iâm used to,â she spoke sharply, âMy dad is not a bad dad, he just usually doesnât have much time.â
âI never claimed he was,â you defended yourself.
After that, you kept your mouth shut. Clearly, she was a very independent girl and she had her own routine she liked to stick to.
-
You hauled all the grocery bags inside the house and unloaded them as Callie brought in her suitcases.
âSo Camellia, I put all the food you picked out in these two cabinets. I mean obviously, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen but I just wanted you to know where the things you picked out were. I always have a grocery list on the fridge that you can add to,â you began to give her a tour of the house, âBathroom is in there. Thereâs another upstairs. Hereâs the living room with a TV,â you headed up the stairs, âHereâs my room.â
On your bed was an adorable toyger kitten cuddled up on your pillow.
âOh! This is Winnie like Winnie the Pooh. I just got her a few weeks ago from a shelter. She is super friendly and loves snuggles so she will probably try to sneak into your bed unless you keep your door closed.â
âI donât mind,â Callie spoke softly as she petted Winnie.
You smiled softly. These were the first words you got out of her that werenât a rejection.
You continued the tour, âThereâs a bathroom between our rooms but I tend to use the downstairs one so feel free to make it your own. And hereâs your room,â you opened the door to a white room with a queen bed in the center, a small bookshelf, a few plants, and paintings.
âI hope this is good enough for now. We can go out this weekend to a home goods store if you want to redecorate. Iâd even be open to repainting it if you want,â you offered.
Callie just set her bags down and nodded.
âAlright, Iâll leave you be. Iâll probably be downstairs for a while watching TV if you want to join. Let me know if you want me to make you anything,â you began to shut the door but Winnie slipped in first.
âGood night, you guys,â you smiled softly.
-
âDo you want me to wait out here or come in with you?â you asked softly.
Spencer had been denied bail, meaning he was transferred to a federal prison and Callie was going to be staying with you for a while. She had taken the news rather hard as expected when the team came over to your house to tell her. You still werenât really accepted by the group so you mostly stood in the corner of the kitchen while they were all in your living room.
You had spoken to Eileen several times about Callieâs current situation. She gave you permission to do whatever you saw fit. This means you could opt her out of school one or two days a week if she wasnât feeling up to it as long as she emailed her teachers and got her missed work in on time. You were researching different therapists for her to talk to because she didnât seem to want to open up to you. You were also given a schedule of visiting times for her to visit her dad in prison.
âIâll just go in alone,â she walked in the door to the visiting room, leaving you in the waiting room.
-
âDad,â Callie tried to hug Spencer but the guard pointed to the âNo Touchingâ sign posted on the wall.
They both sat down defeatedly at opposite ends of the table.
âHow are you?â Callie inquired, wiping her tears away from seeing her father locked up.
âI donât want to talk about me, sweetheart. How are you? Emily and my lawyer visited yesterday and told me you had to be placed into foster care,â Spencer asked, concerned.
âItâs okay. Not the best,â she sighed.
âWhatâs happening? Are they hurting you? Are they not giving you enough to eat? Callie, Iâll have my lawyer on the phone and you out of there so quick,â Spencer frantically stated.
âNo, Dad. Y/N is fineâŠnice, even. But sheâs not you,â Callie cried.
Spencerâs face softened, âIâm so sorry, Callie. You donât deserve to be dealing with any of this.â
âJust please come home,â she sniffled.
âIâm trying, sweetheart, Iâm really trying,â he replied earnestly with tears in his eyes.
A/N: i will also be starting a series taglist if you donât want to be added to my main taglist so just clarify which one you want to join! also i recommend listening to the song Home by Phillip Phillips because it is kind of like the theme song for this story
main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego
series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme
#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#dr spencer reid#cm fanfic#spencer x reader#reid x reader#criminal minds
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three's a crowd | nomin
synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.
warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop
disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.
note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away đ anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!
the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.
it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.
"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"
stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.
if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy⊠and that was when you met one of them.
"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.
"yes. now could you, like, you know⊠hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."
screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.
now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!
the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.
you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.
"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."
this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so⊠downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.
jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.
no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.
he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.
"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"
"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"
"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.
"convince me?"
you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.
it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to youâbeating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.
and you weren't stupid.
you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.
"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"
the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.
if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.
you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.
that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.
while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.
it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.
you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.
you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.
but you've overestimated lee jeno.
"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."
"butâbut aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"
you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.
how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.
"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."
you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakableâwhat are you going to do about it, huh?
you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.
you've never ran out as fast as you did.
and jeno swears it'll be the last.
you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.
although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.
and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.
but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfortâalthough it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.
jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.
you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.
although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.
it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.
one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.
so this was how he got them to bully you?
"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, thoughâŠ" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"
"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than meâŠ" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"
all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.
no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.
because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?
we lost :(
you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.
in all honesty, you still supported the pep squadâyou just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.
not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.
tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.
jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.
and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.
jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go throughâbeing on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.
he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.
you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.
as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.
after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirtâs pocket.
the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.
you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.
they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.
you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.
"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."
it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.
you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.
you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doorsâ
"what are you doing here?"
the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.
"i said, what are you doing here?"
their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.
particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.
particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaeminâs shoulders.
this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.
"i wasâŠ" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for profâprofessor kim, sir."
coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.
you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.
"file sorting⊠in the dark?" he asked incredulously.
fuck this.
"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lostâŠ"
originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.
everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.
you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had toâ
"why are you in such a rush, pet?"
crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.
with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.
jaemin was right.
it was addicting to stare into them.
especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.
jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.
he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fearâto which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.
"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"
no. this can't be happening.
"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."
you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wallâwhich you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.
with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.
if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.
"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whoreâi don't want you. i'm not jaemin."
the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.
this is really happening.
you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.
"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"
you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.
"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"
his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.
with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.
you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.
"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.
you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.
until it slips andâ
you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.
oh no.
"jenoâ"
the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good useâif the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.
the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.
until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.
"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"
his patience is nonexistent.
jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.
"are you fucking deafâi asked you a fucking question!"
the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.
your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.
"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.
"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."
with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.
you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.
the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.
"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."
his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.
jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.
the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.
"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"
someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.
you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.
you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.
in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.
it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.
the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.
when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.
in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him whoâs doing this to you and you didnât consent to any of this.
you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.
âi want my turn,â he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.
jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.
while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.
he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.
you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."
you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.
"noâ!"
your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.
"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"
you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.
it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.
the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.
you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.
it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.
jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.
you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.
"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.
"jeno, do you see this? fuck."
you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.
you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.
if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.
"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.
"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.
he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of meâ"
"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"
you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.
you felt⊠filthy.
his hands find purchase on your buttâonly because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.
you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.
"i'm the favorite!"
"i'm the favorite!"
as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.
all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.
you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.
thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talkingâevery repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.
but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.
"who do you like best?"
you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.
jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?
but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.
because adding someone new to the mix has never been easyâafter all, three's a crowd.
#nct imagines#yandere nct#yandere kpop#nct smut#nct scenarios#yandere jaemin#yandere jeno#jaemin imagines#jeno imagines#jaemin scenarios#jeno scenarios#jaemin smut#jeno smut
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YOU. â Wyatt Lykensen
Pairing: Wyatt Lykensen X FEMALE! READER
Requested: Yes / No
Warnings: vulgar swearing. descriptions of blood. unhealthy behavior. mentions of rape.
Authorâs Note: please note that you (the reader) and wyatt are both adults in this image. Just to clear up any confusion!
Summary: The first time he saw you he couldnât keep his eyes off of you. He follows you everywhere. He gets jealous when he sees you invite a friend over for old times sake. Things go way to far. You will be his.
HE ALLOWED THE LOUD CHATTER and birds song in the bright summer square of ZombieTown to be slowly drowned out by all his pulsing thoughts. He stood in the distance observing you. Out of all the people that passed by blocking his view, he kept his hard eye on you.
ïżœïżœThe way your soft brunette curls laid untouched just inches away from your descending chest. Echoes of your honey dripping laugh rang through his twitching ears. The jealously and anger only grew worse.
Unbeknownst to you, not aware of the wolf watching you had just finished a few hours of shopping, you were making your way down towards the central parking just by ZombieTownâs large water fountain before you were stopped by an old school friend â who was male.Â
He was so surprised to see, he complimented you and watched you laugh in sweetness. Both of you stood their for at least 20 minutes catching up on old burnt out memories he was trying to re-flame. He could read your mind. He felt the same as you. He knew you were uncomfortable and wanted to make a fast escape. You didnât trust this guy but.
âHey uhm- i was actually wondering if youâd like to have dinner and a movie tonight?â Was this guy serious? After a twenty minute conversation?! You werenât one to be rude because of your passive personality. âOh â uhm sure! Iâd like that. Iâll be there at seven oâclockâ.
 And with that you were off and on your way home. Wyatt watched as you retreated towards the silver Cadillac you owned in the parking lot. He watched all around him. He glared at the young man who was walking the opposite way. That dumb human. He couldnât stand a chance against him.
Nonetheless, he knew youâd be his one day. Heâd let you have the little amount of happiness this human could spare for a while. Heâd imagine you helpless crying and running straight into his arms. The way your head laid on his shoulder while he rubbed your back in a calming manner.
 Leaving little kisses on our neck when he was in the mood, the warm feeling of both your sweaty bodies pressed together in pure erotic euphoria. Tingles ran down his spine as he imagines your soft smile in his mind. His heart raced at the thought of your body. Every curve and edge. All the imperfections you could name heâd find absolutely exhilarating.
âHey man, curfewâs almost up you have to leaveâ. Another voice snapped him out of deep personal thoughts, he eyed a stern looking officer dressed in a blue SeaBrook uniform, who was very tired and just wanted to go home. He nodded his way respectfully and exited the shopping plaza. The walk to your house wasnât long.Â
The city had separate ZombieTownâs main housing and shopping lot so you had to drive at least a small distance to venture for a desired shopping day. He had taken the path towards your small apartment plenty of times, along with being a wolf came with advanced speed so he made due time. The sky swirled with light pinks and oranges making a beautiful sunset in the small town.
The crunching of grass under his feet made his anxious as he took a deep breathe, his footsteps became silent in worries of you discovering him. He stood calmly in your background his ears twitching hearing you humming to yourself softly â he figured you were in the shower getting ready for you date.
A scoff left his red lips in jealousy, he hated that it wasnât him. âin due timeâ. He thought to himself confidently as he caught attention to light fogs of steam arising from the running shower. Now, Wyatt was no prude but he absolutely couldnât resist. His curious brown eyes peered above the brick ledge.
A gasp hitched in his throat. His heart could explode at any moment. Their you stood, pampering yourself in the shower. Looking ever so beautiful. The water dripping down your pale dark skin. Your green textured hair soaking up the moisture from the water.Â
He bit down on his lip as goosebumps shot up his back. You were marvelous. Your beautiful voice flowing through his ears as you sung. His eyes grew yellow, his animalistic nature taking full control. Fangs flashed from his mouth.
He tightened his fist in frustration. He wanted to take you right then and there. âAll mineâ. He thought as he found himself skewing up dirty â unholy images in his mind of him senselessly fucking you, clinging to him as you screamed his name. He knew it was wrong. The tightening he felt in his boxers was painful. Too painful to even bear. He wanted you, every inch.Â
To him you were everything. All his. After having to agonize through his painful boner he regained composure after zipping up his pale brown pants and moved stalkingly towards the right his eyes casting view into your bedroom window, the soft white shades slightly parted allowing him to see through.
Different collages and pictures of close friends and things you adored plastered all over your walls. Small shelves that held small knickknacks and small plants lightly attracting ray of sunlight bent at the wall. Your bed, freshly made with the soft maroon red and pillows with the dark hues of blue designed with golden tassels laid neatly, untouched.
 You were somewhat messy, but very articulate and decorative. Which he adored. Small white bookshelves filled to the end with large literature of your liking. Pushed up against your light grey accent wall. Posters and cute pieces of art made by yourself were taped just above your bed post.
He adored your room. It was full of positivity, light, and all things that you adored. The sweet vanilla and shea scent from your body streamed into his nose like a running river. Licking his lips in anticipation he closed his eyes and exhaled your delectable scent.Â
You walks into the small atmosphere the cold air hitting your bare legs, missing the warmth of the water and steam capture your body in a relaxing shower. It was a sewer green like color to which your full cheeks spread into a large smile âperfectâ.
After reaching for a pair of distressed and ripped jeans that you had seen in the corner of your eye you pulled down the chain to your light which shut off you quickly threw your clothing on your bed and sat down on the edge freeing the sparkling red cap on your lotion squeezing the lotion onto your hand.Â
It smelt amazing, ever since zombies had fought for more equality from the humans. Zombies from everywhere where now able to walk into any store much to the similar human version of their Victoria Secret and others. To which they could by all sorts of cute lipglosses, lotions, night wear, and clothing. The sweet deep smell of cinnamon and rose entered your nostrils as you rubbed the lotion into your calves working your way up to the top of your thighs.
The black pupils widened in arousel and wonder as he stared into the inside of your window without your knowledge â your hands slowly rubbing the white substance on the curve of your plush butt. He was awe stricken, so captivated by the goddess he had known as you. His heart thumped wildly in his chest he couldnât get enough of you.
 Your finger pulled up the red belt loops of the maroon jeans your legs fitted around, securing the gold buttons of your jeans into the red holes in front. You sighed and fumbled with the thin green fabric you scrunched up the material and pushed your head through, then your arms.
You stood in front of the large white rimmed body mirror that leaned against the back wall with a cute colorful tapestry laid over it with pictures of close friends and fun stickers plastered on the corners of the glass. You loved the way your outfit looked. You felt very satisfied. A huge smile spread across your cheeks. The left of your head swung towards the opening crack of your door â the ring of your front doorbell.Â
You drowned in confusion, your eyes reached over to read the square alarm clock on your night side table. â6:24â. âHe is only twenty minutes earlyâ. Which you thought was very weird. You had just met back with your old elementary friend hours ago , and only after having a seemingly awkward conversation for twenty minutes you agree to go on a date but heâs twenty minutes early?!
You pondered at the all the possibilities as to why he suggested this. But nonetheless you shook the feeling away and picking up your towel placing it in your pale green clothing hamper. Stepping out of your room and down into the wide hallway your fingers wrapped around the chilling gold door handle and yanked it open.
 There he stood, bouncing eagerly on his toes. His hair slicked back with hair spray, the clothing he wore was doused with heavy calogne â the foul heavy smell of the body spray stung at your nose the second you opened your front door. Which was something you didnât find attractive at all. The wide smile he wore seemed like it was too toiled. Like he was trying to hard. His clothes. Ew.
He wore a bright blue and white plaid buttoned, with a black lambskin jacket over it unbuttoned, dark blue low waisted jeans and light brown flats. Yikes. How human of him. You absolutely hated what he was wearing. You knew he was being desperate. You could see it in his body language and his expression. You spotted bright red roses â in front of him you would have scoffed and sent him away.
 If he truly remembered you he would have remembered you like sunflowers instead of basic red roses. How bland. But instead, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. You knew the crippling and heart breaking sorrow of rejection, you were a zombie of course so being cast out was something you knew all to well. Instead you tilted your head to the side and forced your cheeks into a great smile.
âAre these flowers for me?â You asked clasping your hands together. He looked down then up at your a small smirk plastering on his thin lips â âABSOLUTELY NOT SIR PLEASE GOD SO DISGUSTINGâ. These thoughts screamed in your mind as you watched him with pure unattractive as his licked his lips âyes they are actuallyâ.
 He said with a very man-ly chuckle ïżœïżœïżœthey reminded me of you so I picked them up at the zombie market in town on my way hereâ. As if this dude wasnât trying hard enough. He truly had to glamorize the fact that he picked the flowers up at a zombie store instead of the regular human one. So he was racist and trying to hard. Great. You let out an awkward laugh and stepped aside allowing him in before the air became filled with his disgusting aroma.
You had retrieved the flowers from his hand and immediately threw them carelessly on the counter. He didnât question it but instead following closely behind you. âIâll burn them laterâ. You thought with a pleasing smirk that played on your face. He had already sat down in your living space his flats sprawled on the floor and his feet kicked up on your glass coffee table. Dog behavior. You rolled your eyes he was stupid and too dumb to even understand basic manners.
 Football was playing on your small flat screen, you had taken a seat next to him your feet flat on the floor, your toes curling in the soft plush carpet. âWould you like something to drink?â you asked politely, the man turned his attention towards you, a curl in his lip âhm sure, the finest wine youâve got?â He requested you stood up and went into the small kitchen opening the oak cabinet next to the sink you had set both wine glasses down on the marble countertop.Â
The dark brown hues in your eyes scanned out the closed window above your sink watching the bright pink sky combine with beautiful colors of orange and red cascading over the oval clouds. You twisted the cork out of the bottle of white wine you had just bought from âZâs Gruesome Groceriezâ in ZombieTown.Â
You wondered if this human had tasted zombie issued wine before, since well zombie wine was a lot more bitter than regular human liquor / wine. It had a hint of brains. You shrugged with a âhmpâ. âHeâs too dumb to even notice anywayâ.
After filling both glasses to the half point you held both of them in your hands and carefully walked back into the living room where the human sat on your white leather couch his eyes and full attention soaking into the fourth quarter and a fumbling ball.Â
You cleared your throat to catch his attention, he smiled towards you and took the wine glass from your right hand and thanked you focusing his content back on the television. âSo .. what are you doing for work now?â you asked trying to break the awkward tension to which he perked up after taking a small sip and setting it down.
 âOh well Iâd never thought youâd ask, I work as SeaBrook patrolman, you?â You ignored the sting in your gut âI work as a journalist and a proud activist for the Zombieâs and Werewolvesâ against discrimination movement, or ZAWAD, it supports the bright culture of both werewolves and zombies and brings everyone together.Â
We try to unite the communities in SeaBrook instead of pushing away and we absolutely do try our best too peacefully speak our thoughts and have mindful conversations without violence.âÂ
You spoke proudly watching his intense expression burn into your eyes. He nodded slowly and pursed his lips which confused you nonetheless you still tried to ignore the screaming inside your head and gut âmake him leaveâ. âthis is going to end badlyâ. Chills scattered down your back in anxiousness.
 âThatâs interesting and ... very sexy actually, your very passionate about it i can tellâ. You internally cringed at that word coming out of his mouth. âSexyâ. He definitely wanted something, and it wasnât a genuine conversation. You froze with disgust his nimble tender cold fingers resting on your knee. âoh uhm, thanks i guessâ.
 You spoke trying to give him the hint, you werenât interested even if he was the last person on earth you wouldnât. His hand inched closer towards your inner thigh a evil smirk plastered on his face. âgod your so sexyâ. He then leaned his lips towards yours capturing you in his grasp. You didnât give an inch, you squealed in protest.
 You moved your arms to his biceps and tried to push him way from you , he refused now he was on top of you. His rough calloused hands slide up towards your collarbone, you groaned in anger âcan you please just stop-- STOP!â You shouted, his breathe was hot against your neck his left hand slide up towards your neck and pressed down onto your windpipe.Â
You gasped gritting your teeth, you used your right hand to try and push him off but his strength held your arm down. You felt helpless, weak, worthless to know that you had somehow allowed this disgusting being to get ahold of you. That is, until you felt him grasping the metal of your Z-band.Â
You knew that taking it off could potentially be a very dangerous action, which was only to be taken off in emergencies only. This was a very big problem and it needed to be stopped. His hand gripped the clasp of your band, you felt the dark veins pulsating throughout your body.Â
Using the strength to lift your left hand which caused a small chime from your Z-band to sound, it unclasped from you wrist and fell somewhere on the floor. In just a few seconds the light around your eyes had turned a deep purple cracks plunging from under them. A low growl erupted from your stomach then submerged to your throat.Â
The man felt you vibrate from below him, he had suddenly noticed you had changed. He gasped and stood up as you growled and snarled, you inched closer towards him as he took steps back defensively. âStay the hell away from me you bitch!â He shouted sternly but the anger was hot and boiling inside of you.Â
Turning into a zombie was something you couldnât control. It was coded in your genes. Once your Z-band was ripped from you the monster took over inside you, just as it did for anyone. Your vision had turned completely red. The low grumbles and growling roared within you, this is what you were. A monster, and damn, were you proud of it.Â
You stepped closer to the cowering man as he flared his arms towards you, which unfortunately, only agitated you more. In this moment you were gone, the zombie inside you was controlling you, and you smelt fear. Which was a bad thing. âYour a waste of human lifeâ. Your normal quiet spoken speech had transformed into a lower deep growl. Using your zombie strength you grabbed the human by his leather collar and bite deeply into his neck, the loud scream leaving the dry of his throat.Â
The blood seeped out of his neck like a river, you lifted him to meet eyes with a demon like growl ânext time you better stopâ. You seethed before letting him drop to the ground, the now scared human scrambled towards his feet holding the gushing wound his hand covered in red. He disappeared out of the living space and out of your life forever. Or at least you hoped he did. Grunting you walked over towards the crack between the couch and the pale wall, getting on your hands and knees you reach down for the metal bracelet.Â
After securing it in your grasp you immediately push the clasps together around you wrist. âOnlineâ. You let a content sigh slumping back beside the wall the dark veins in your arms slowly recoiled from your arms and legs. Your back ached and your head pounded. The sweet tasting blood of the humans still resting on your lips and along your cheeks.Â
Finally, after about a few seconds you steadily returned to your feet. Ignoring the few blood spatters that were now fresh on the floor. âIâll clean it up laterâ. You let a deep sigh release from your lips as you picked up the two wine glasses and brought them to the kitchen and discarded of the waste in the sink.Â
You were fashioned in the bathroom taking a warm cloth and bringing it towards your face wiping off the dried blood. You sucked in a breathe the sound of your beating heart filling your ears. You didnât feel at all ashamed for what you had done. That bastard human deserved it.
 The overbearing of your anxiety flared, you were worried you might get in huge trouble, since unfortunately, the human is never to blame. You had gone to bed that night in hopes for a better day the next morning -- the only problem was, he saw everything. Â
#disney#disney zombies#moonlightwrites#zed necrodopolis#writing#zed zombies#zombies 2#disney descendants#wyatt lykensen#x reader#yandere#pearce joza#meg donnelly#milo manheim#bree zombies#mal bertha#evie grimhilde#jay jafar#carlos de vil#harry hook
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Evo-23
Pairing: Zombie/Infected (Ji-woon) x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Gore, Horror, Cannibalism, Graphic Gore and Wound descriptions, Death.Â
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âConsider it a harmless improvement of human evolution!â
âItâs a disaster waiting to happen. It is barely tested and not ready for human use. The rewriting of the genetic code was banned for so long for this very reason!â
âAnd whoâs to say itâs a good idea now?â
âItâs truly just a simple splicing technique. Consider the eradication of cancer and genetic diseases!â
âA disaster. An abomination to God.â
âThis, my good sir, is Godâs great plan.â
They made the Others, then they made the epidemic.Â
 You looked at his face. Again, and again, you looked at his face replaying on the small screen, running on what juice was left in the generators you had managed to salvage from the quarantine hospital camps they had set up when it all started. His bald, freckled head, and the glasses you wished you could snap and stamp on. Cold brown eyes. Heâd known and done nothing.
âJust a simple rewriting of DNA code.â You uttered as you pushed your spoon into the syrup of the tinned peaches you were eating. It tasted good enough, but it was pushing close to the expiry date on the top of the sawed open metal. Soon you would be struggling you knew. The risk of botulism would be high the longer you carried on eating canned food after the dates. You hoped that wouldnât happen. You prayed as you checked the date and sighed with relief. Canned peaches just tasted too good. Along side it you had managed to find some very stale looking crackers, but it was a meal almost for a king in the squalor you had been suffering for the past two years. Syrup dripped over your chin before you wiped it away and slapped the recording off.
 The papers had raved about the new viral technique to removing cells, DNA and disease from humans. Rat, dog, rabbit and pig research had all gone well, showing promising signs for the virus vector to be used in all walks of life. Chimps had suffered few effects. One in every hundred had suffered mania effects, easily glazed over and removed from the public eye before the method was patented properly and set to human subjects. It was then that the issues started. Isolated manic episodes, bleeding from the nose and eyes, total loss of motor function before the body was paralysed and the blood vessels collapsed. It killed people. Five participants were killed. It killed their cancerous tumours but then it killed everything else. There was something different after that. Then the bodies started digging their way out of graves. It was covered up. Again, and again, bodies went missing in the night until one of them was gone. The cases carried on after that, bleeding eyed screaming creatures running through hospitals, cold and dead, but moving completely from memory. Then there had been the Others. The Others had evolved. Humans whose DNA had fully incorporated with the virus. They were stronger, immortal and just as dead as the rest, except they were not stupid. They didnât run after heat and blood; they hid and took what food they wanted. They could think.
 Since the days of the beginning of the end, the Others had taken territory, carving it up for themselves as they saw fit, each with their own group of mindless brain rots. Youâd done well to avoid them. They preferred it when it was cooler now as the summer sun rotted their flesh faster than it could heal itself. The heat was, for once, your friend. It didnât solve the issue of your boiling apartment, but air conditioning was a dream you had in the night now. Youâd rather the heat than the memories of the last snow, perfectly preserving hibernating zombies under the ice in the wilderness while the city zombies roamed without the risk of rotting and collapsing in heaps of half broken bones and stringy flesh. The Others roamed wild in the winter, tearing people apart while it was cool before disappearing into the subways in the heat of spring and summer. Hopefully it meant you could search for a few more supplies on the next run. You needed some plant pots and seeds if you wanted to survive, and hopefully some more drinking water.
 As you finished the can of peaches, you looked outside at the bright sunshine and grabbed for your bag by the couch. It was heavy with supplies, and you rummaged around for the small sandwich bags with pens for if you did manage to find seeds. You shoved the supplies together, along with a bottle of water and a few cereal bars before you grabbed the bush axe you had found, wrapped tightly with cord so you could hold it tightly and not send it flying. Failing that you had a bat and a small knife. You shouldered the backpack and mentally wrote a list as you headed to the door, pulling away your carefully made barricade. There was a small trap you had, and you set the bear trap across the threshold, covered by a sheet. The final touch was the swinging chair you set on the latch before you closed the door and locked it. The hallway was clear, youâd made sure to barricade each end, and you sighed softly before heading to the stairs and locking the doors behind you again, setting the boards back up against the door before you quietly headed towards the exit and out into the streets, into the blistering summer heat and rubble.
 The streets were dead. Silent except for the rustling of rotting plastic flying across the abandoned roads. The infected were down below, their shuffling and groans emanating from the sewers below. The rest were dozing in cool shade, swaying back and forth, their eyes gone and the skin of their faces gaunt. The Others didnât look like that, or so you had been told before the rest of the survivors disappeared. The Others were covered in burst vessels, bruised and pale, cold. Their noses bled and their eyes did too, but they were black eyed and vicious, their voices replaced with snarls and clicks. They were terrifying. Youâd been lucky enough to avoid them so far. You took a deep breath of dusty air before tugging at the scarf over your head and peering through the mucky glass window of the hardware store. Inside was dusty and grubby, the shelves mostly empty at the entrance from the looting when it all started. Otherwise, it seemed empty. You hoped you were right as you headed towards the back fire exits and tried the handle bars.
 The two around the side clicked but jingled with the sound of chains. They opened a couple of inches before the chains went taught and kept it from opening any further. You sighed and left them, closing the doors again before you carried on around the back of the building and found the employee entrance and exit. You took a breath and opened the door carefully. It swung open to reveal a dark warehouse. The cages of stock were mostly untouched. You grinned in victory before you turned on your pump power torch. It lit up the interior to reveal the cages of soil, wood and other items like watering cans and pots. Plastic pots, seeds and some planting soil. You needed those things, and a water purifier. If you were lucky, people had bunkered down here and you would be able to find some unopened water bottles. It was a long shot, but it was something you desperately needed besides food resources. You took a step inside and listened before grabbing a few bricks from outside and propping the door open, unaware of a pair of black eyes watching you.
 The warehouse was devoid of infected, and you were thankful as you searched the aisles of cages and bins for what you wanted. Light, deep plastic pots and a small bag of soil. You needed to be able to carry your things home. You found a few plastic planters quickly and then set about finding seeds, coming through several tote boxes of packets before you grabbed vegetables and fruits of various kinds. They were barely in date, but hopefully something would grow. You shoved the seeds away and picked up your planters and a small watering can, smiling at the little elephant nose on it before fastening it to your bag. Shouldering a small bag of soil, you then quickly did a search for water bottles. To your delight there was a pack of 2L bottles. It was too much to carry but you took a couple in your bag and stashed the rest behind a brick pile outside to collect later. Making sure it was well hidden, you kicked the bricks away from the door and shouldered your bag and grabbed the pots once again before moving as quietly as you could back around to the front of the hardware store. It was still quiet, but the sun was hanging low in the sky, indicating that it was close to being dark. The dark brought cold, and that let the infected walk around without their limbs dropping from their bodies.
 You reached your tower block before the night truly set in, dragging the soil up the stairs as you barricaded the doors between you and the exit. You reached your own floor and set the barricades against the door before you sighed quietly and reached for your own door. You unlocked it and carefully inched it open far enough to take the chair snare trap off the handle, lowering it before you leaned down and looped it back on the door. The bear trap was still set, and you inched around it before setting down the dayâs findings in the middle of the living area. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, and you grabbed the box of protein and cereal bars you had pilfered, along with the survival food pouches. They were rich in carbohydrates and protein, so they would be good when you were very low on food. You stashed everything away before chewing on a protein fruit bar happily. You looked at the seed packets and smiled as the clouds moved over and thunder rumbled in the distance. It meant rain. You looked through the packets as you chewed and happily started to pick veggies to get growing before the rain rolled over. They needed to be out on the small balcony to get watered by the incoming bad weather.
 The night was filled with the crash of lightning and the rumble of thunder, which covered the groans of the zombies wandering around below, rotting and stinking of the sewers. Still, you got a little sleep between the storms, sleeping lightly in the corner of the room, tucked underneath your little fortified area. The bed youâd used to make barricades and weapons if all else was lost. You woke with a start as the handle to your room jiggled up and down. The infected didnât have such capacity. You rushed out of the small blanket and pillows to grab for your axe, strapping o your stolen police vest before you headed to the little entry way. Your bear trap and chair trap were still set. With a deep breath, you stood ready by the door as the lock opened with a clunk and the handle went down again. The door opened quickly, and you gasped at the creature stood in the doorway, heaving blood from its mouth before it leaned back, and fresh blood dripped from its black eyes. It was once a human, but it was now one of The Others. It clicked and stepped back to dodge the knife strapped chair, slamming the wood down from its pulley in the ceiling with one great slap of its hand. Black eyes looked forwards, and it clicked again, blood dripping from the corner of its mouth as it dashed forwards. Clumsily, its foot slid over the bear trap, and the trap snapped shut tightly around its ankle.
 The Other howled a great series of violent clicks, tugging its leg before it fell to its knees and pulled at the metal, heaving the two rows of sharp teeth apart with shaking arms. You acted then, yelling as you slammed the axe down towards its head. He caught the handle, letting the bear trap snap back shut around his ankle as he fended you off, clicking and gurgling.
âWhat the fuck?â You gasped as you tugged your axe away violently and went to strike again, aiming for the temple. Again, the Other caught your swing, clicking in upset as the bear trap tore its flesh open to the bone, exposing the black stained tissue underneath its skin. An all too human face looked up at you as it pushed your axe away again, black eyes bleeding red. The Other was dark haired, the black tangled mess falling to just under his chin, though his eyebrows were sparse. The same seemed to have befallen his eyelashes, and you looked at the pale, almost alien face as you panicked. It was once a man. Slowly, it reached for the bear trap again.
âNO!â You shouted, and to your surprise, the Other looked at you, its bruised fingers releasing the mechanism for a second time as it gurgled more blood and licked its teeth and eyed the bare flesh exposed from your sleep wear.
 The Others still craved flesh and blood. They still needed human cells to survive. Their own bodies were lacking in the vital building blocks of life. Stem cells. The had been seen licking the marrow from bones and pulling open children regularly in search of such treats. Those, it was thought, were the key to their regeneration. The Other looked at your legs and you hopped back a step, as though to hide the long bones full of marrow from his sight.
âWhyâŠâ You struggled to find your voice, âWhy havenât you killed me already?â
The Other looked at you, his head tilted far to the left, as though he was listening to you. The creature reached towards you and pointed then curled his fingers back towards himself and gurgled shortly before he reached back to his ankle again and tried to winch open the bear trap. His arms went tight as he heaved the metal teeth apart, slamming either side down onto the laminate. He was free. You took another step back and gripped the axe tighter as the Other got to his feet, his shattered bones clicking back together before the wound closed and his bruised, pale skin recovered the black flesh inside.
 The Other clicked again, his head tilting left and right, fingers twitching and eyes rolling. He was looking at you, watching you breathe and move as he moved left and right on his legs. In moments, he was healed, but he still stood by the bear trap and watched. Blood dripped from his nose, weaving a trail over the cupids bow of his lips before it dripped over his sickly purple lips and into his mouth. His tongue dipped out to lick it away. His lips pealed backwards in a smile as he clicked and gurgled again. In a flash, he had moved towards you, his hands slamming either side of your head, pinning you against the wall. His teeth flashed by your skin, blackened and sharp, his mouth filled with clots of his own blood. Another gurgle came from his throat as he sniffed the left and right side of your neck with blood dripping from his nose. A drop landed on your chest, rolling over the skin and into your shirt as the Other clicked again, reaching for you with a grubby and bruised, blood-stained hand. The cold hand wrapped around your throat in a quiet threat, and the Other continued to look you up and down, fingers dragging against the warmth of your flesh.
 They like warm flesh enough to come out in the sunlight.
 âAre you going to cut me open and peel out my bones?â You asked as you looked at the door, avoiding the snarling face in front of you. Black eyes wiggled back and forth for a moment before the Other opened its mouth, the sharpened teeth flashing over your shoulder before it took an unsteady step backwards, ear tilted towards the windows. It was dark, and thunder clapped in the distance again before the sound of rain filled the apartment once more.
The Other shook his head slowly as his head twisted back, his back bending backwards as he slumped and peered out at the rain. He dragged his ruined foot behind him as he went to the window and looked down at the wet streets below, his black eyes watching the infected below wade through the water and rubbish. Another long, low click sounded from his throat before he turned his dark eyes on you again, blinking slowly before he picked up his leg and looked at the torn fabric of his jeans. The wound had healed, leaving a faint trace of dark red, almost black blood on his bruised skin. His arm moved, but this time it was to wipe the blood from his nose away on his sleeve. His arm came away streaked with fresh blood, but he still peered outside, looking at the meandering bodies outside in the rain.
 âWhat are you looking at?â You asked from against the wall as the Other twitched by the window and clicked again. His black eyes moved from the glass to your face and then back again before he reached into his pocket. His dead fingers wiggled around for a while before he pulled out a long lanyard and presented the card to you. There was a dark-haired man on the picture, his hair slicked back, the sides shaved with a pair of glasses sat on his nose.
âJi-woon.â You read carefully from where you were, âIs that who you were?â
The Other looked at you, studying your face before he raised a fist to his shoulder and nodded it with his head. You looked at the lanyard carefully, noticing the faded and stained academy logo. The badge confirmed it. He was a teacher before everything. Once he was human. Once he was a teacher. Now he was one of the Others.
âWhy havenât you killed me yet?â You asked again, âYou want to eat my bone marrow, right?â
The Other looked at you again, blood dripping from his eyes and spit clinging to the side of his mouth. He opened his mouth, gurgled again, clicked his tongue and then moved back towards you. His black eyes caught the light of a lightning bolt and you reached for your axe with a small yelp.
 The axe was thrown from your grasp before you could get a grip on it. The Other clicking as he dragged you by the wrists onto the floor. The axe clattered away, and you flinched as his fingers found the straps of the tactical vest, plucking them away violently before he dragged the material and plating away, leaving you exposed in just your pyjamas. Wiggling, you tried to free yourself from his grasp to no avail. Blood from his eyes dripped down the sides of his nose and onto the material of your shirt, staining it a deep, dark red. You closed your eyes as he let out another series of low clicks and drew closer to your shoulder. If he didnât eat you, you would turn, just like the rest. A bite from an Other would make you one of his thrall or another like him. Another one of the Others.
âKill me then. Just donât let me turn. I want to die.â You whispered as you closed your eyes tight. The Other clicked again, a slow series of articulates noises that disappeared into a whine, not unlike a dog.
 Then the arms caging you to the floor slipped downwards. His nails dragged away curls of wood as the Other let his hands travel, his fingers ghosting over your skin again in a meandering pattern downwards. You flinched as he pinched the flesh around your middle, tugging hard before they continued down your stomach and over your legs. He shifted backwards in order to look at your legs. His black eyes rolled over the flesh as spit, mixed with blood, leaked from the corners of his mouth. The slobber dripped over your calves, but you didnât dare move as his cold fingertips traced under the arch of your foot and then grabbed hold of your ankle. He held it in a bruising grip, his fingers wrapped tightly around the flesh, strangling the blood flow. It hurt and you let out a cry as he twisted it around, tugging the joint awkwardly.
âPlease.â You sniffled on the floor as he dragged you back towards him. You wiggled only to have his hand slam on your middle, winding you before he pressed you back to the floor again.
He opened his mouth, wheezed, coughed and then gurgled, âP-Please.â
 Your eyes shot open as the Other released your ankle with a frown, his hairless eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. His lips quivered again, dipping up and down before he swallowed and shook, blood spraying from his nose. The droplets landed over your floor and streaked up the Otherâs cheeks in wild, spider web patterns. Stumbling, he dragged himself upwards and touched his own lips.
âP-Please.â he gurgled again, a deranged smile spreading across his face.
âDonât mock me.â You wept at him, wiping your face as you struggled for your axe, your fingers slipping around the handle as he leaped on you again. A smiling face covered in blood loomed over you before he gurgled, clicked and growled, holding his throat before angrily thumping at his Adams apple. The Other wheezed and coughed blood over your chest before he reached into his pocket again, teeth clicking, and pulled out the lanyard to show you. You shook your head before he tapped the photo on the plastic then tapped his own blood covered cheek.
 You laid there in confusion, looking up at the drooling monster before you found your voice.
âThatâs you before this. Ji-woon. You were a teacher.â You declared quietly, whispering into the thunderstorm.
The Other turned the card back to himself and touched the photo and then his own hair, his cold fingers tangling in the matted mess that hung around his cheeks. It was nothing like the slicked back, side shaven style he once wore, and he seemed to realise that as he tugged at the hair and pulled away a small clump. He wasnât alive anymore. He was only alive thanks to his constant need to eat the flesh of the living. His victims stem cells and other living tissue was why he was a walking corpse beyond the others. An agonised cry left his lips, and the Other clutched at his own hair as he slumped over you, his teeth clicking dangerously close to your shoulder.
âYouâre not him anymore.â You whispered again, reaching up with shaking hands. You sniffled as you reached and carefully took hold of his face, feeling the piercing coldness of his skin. Blood stuck to your palms as the Other raised it head enough to look from side to side, his black eyes quivering back and forth as he looked at your hands cupping his face.
âSo, if youâre in there, Ji-woon, Iâd rather you end me quickly...r-rather than play with me like a cat.â You sobbed.
 The Other let the card of his lanyard clatter to the floor, the dirty fabric of the lanyard laid over wooden floor. There was another deafening crash of lightning and rumble of thunder as the Other stumbled backwards, his legs wobbling as his teeth clicked and ground together rhythmically. Click. Grind. Click. Grind. It was unsettling. You crawled backwards towards your weapon, only to pause as the room was lit up with lightning again, and you saw tears mingle with the blood leaking from his nose. Pink droplets dripped from his chin. The Other looked at you on the floor, then back to the windows, before he let out an unholy scream. With a cry, you covered your ears as the Other called for his thrall with tears the colour of blood dripping down his cheeks and neck. He shook his head and curled in on himself before howling again, another upsetting, glass shaking as he wailed over the sound of the storm. You reached for the axe again, crying as your ears rang with the noise of the Otherâs screams. With a scream of your own, you launched yourself at him with the axe held high. Black eyes flashed before he caught you with open arms, grappling you around the middle in a hug. The axe jolted against his shoulder, falling from your grasp as you fell into his grasp.
 The Other quivered again you, his jaw grinding before he rested his nose against your neck. He was icily cold, and he wheezed cold breaths over your neck, his lips sticky against your skin. He didnât bite you. His lips parted to let him wheeze again and he dragged his nose over the skin before he sobbed, more tears dripping down his nose. The Other pulled away, his black eyes wide and wet with more unshed tears.
âIâveâŠnever seen an Other cryâŠâ You confessed as he hugged you tighter. The thunder of footsteps sounded out on the stairs as the hoard smashed themselves against the barricades leading up to your hide away, âFuckâŠâ
The Other kept a tight grip on you before he too heard the hoard. His eyes roved your face before he pushed you towards the window and fumbled with the clasps. He opened the window and you peered at the rain, and then at his face. He said nothing but you knew what he wanted. The fire escape. You ducked out of the window and perched yourself in the rain, underneath the stairs to try and shield yourself as the thrall of the Other slammed themselves against your defences. The Other closed the window and entered your room again, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes wide as his creatures swarmed inside, moaning and groping at the walls, floors and him. A few paused by the window before bumping into something else and leaving. None of them cared about the Other. They couldnât smell the warm flesh of the living, so they filtered away, down the corridors and stairs, falling and smashing things as they went.
 As the noises died down, you peered through the metal stairs and looked at the rushing water below. The zombies slowly filtered out of the building, back into the cooler moist air. You sighed as you looked at them, but shivered, sniffling in the rain and cold. A moment later, the window rattled, and the Other peered out into the rain, his black eyes haunting as they shone in the light of the lightning. With a click, he held out his hand, and you watched him reach to scoop his hair from his eyes. It was a human gesture. It made him seem human. Then the lightning flashed and lit up the blood covering his face, neck and arms. His fingernails were dirty with dried blood and mud, but he helped you into the window and clicked again softly, as though it was a noise of comfort. It unsettled you, holding his freezing cold hand as you shivered inside of the apartment. The door was closed, barricade replaced, and the chair pinned back in place at the door. He was still bleeding, and he blinked his eyes, sending two drops of blood down the stained red lines either side of his nose. With a deep breath, you grabbed a tissue from your little den and reached up to wipe the red streaks away from his face. The Other flinched at your warm touch, but let out a wheeze, letting you wipe his face free from blood and gunk.
 You pulled away with a small gasp at the sight of his pale, bruised skin. The blood vessels around his eyes ran in spidery black patterns before they disappeared under the pale, thin bruised skin of his face. He looked dead. Deathly pale and gaunt. His face had lost a lot of the colour and life it once had, though he appeared no more tired than he used to. The large eye bags seemed to be a constant factor. You reached for his ID card on the floor and carefully handed it to him. The Other held open his hand and took it from your grasp, gurgling at the picture of himself, or who he used to be, with interest. You let him hold it and watched at he wiped at his nose with the tissue you had accidentally give him alongside it. In a mockery of what you did, he slid the tissue over his nose and cheeks before he gurgled and smile with blood clot covered teeth. He wasnât human. You repeated that as he passed you the sticky tissue back. It was covered in blood and clots.
 âAre you still in there Ji-woon?â You asked the Other quietly.
The Other shook his head as he raised the card again. It span in his grasp, giving you flashes of the image of his human face, âP-Please.â he wheezed at you, â...Help.â
âThat is you. You canât become him anymore.â You said carefully, softening the blow with a dab of the tissue under his eyes. He caught your wrist with a scowl, his unnatural eyes wiggling in their sockets, rolling left and right as he opened his mouth to expose his black dyed mouth full of clots.
âP... Please.â he wheezed again.
âI can...make you look like him but youâre not human anymore.â You tried to tug your wrist free to no avail.
 âLook.â The Other held up the ID card and tapped it again before he let you go and looked at the red marks on your arm mournfully, âJ-Ji...woon.â
âThe fact you can even speak amazes me.â You confessed as you looked at the bruises and blood covering him. His clothes were dirty, matted and torn, exposing his arms which had been unnaturally made larger. He was a predator of muscle and smarts now, who desperately wanted to be human again, âI can help, so long as you can keep those zombies away from me, okay?â
The Other nodded, drooling as he pointed to his ears and mouth.
âThose wails, yes. You can control them and keep them away while I help you. That and youâre big enough to just tear them open...I saw an Other do that once.â
The Other blinked owlishly but nodded once before you rummaged for a bottle of water and pointed to the bathroom, âFirst letâs clean you up, huh?â
He only nodded and followed at your heels like a drooling, blood covered dog.
 You managed to get a small basin to fill with water and then awkwardly got the Other to strip his clothes off. They were full of holes and disgusting. The neck was covered with blood and stiff with mud and blood. You bagged them and tied it closed as the Other stood, swaying on his dark bruise coloured feet. His mouth was dripping with drool again as he turned and looked at the water bowl in your hands.
âCome on. Sit in the tub.â You asked gently as you guided his cold body into the bath. He sat quietly, gurgling on his own blood as you fetch a towel and a small flannel. You dipped the flannel into the water and lathered it with soap before pressing it to his face. His black eyes quivered before he closed them peacefully and let you wipe the grime from his skin. Each swipe revealed more skin like cracked porcelain underneath the blood. The bruising spread from black coloured veins in his face and you were careful to clean around his nose and mouth before setting to the rest of him. It was even more embarrassing to get a zombie to clean his own privates, but something in him remembered and you left him to it before returning to try and scrub his hair.
 Most of his hair was dead, the ends snapped and fraying in clumps. So, it was with a heavy heart that you washed it and let it soak with conditioner before snipping away most of the ends. It was shorter, in a wild mane over the top of his head and the shaved sides, but he seemed happy as he peered at himself in your small mirror. You tried to tame it backwards, but the shorter pieces of hair pinged out at awkward angles. He didnât seem to care as he wiped at his own face, clicking happily at himself in the reflection in the grubby water. He was like a child almost. Entertained by bottles, colours and smells, despite the irony blood leaking from his nose again. He wiped it away with a tissue, wet hands dampening the balled-up paper before he peered over the side of the tub and watched you pull free a few sets of clothes.
âHere. You canât wear those ragsâŠeven though I know you donât get cold.â The Other stood and looked at the clothing before his hands reached for a khaki green fleece. He rubbed the soft material and happily pulled it over his head before he dressed his bottom half as well.
 When he was finished and dressed you let him walk out of the bathroom. He was still bleeding from his eyes and nose but the cleanly appearance gave him an almost human look. The Other clicked and touched the top of his hair, feeling the strands before he looked at you with wide black eyes. In a sudden burst of speed, he was in your face, his teeth clacking together in front of your nose. Snap. Grind. Snap. Grind. Snap. He clicked his teeth rapidly in front of your face, drool stringing between his teeth and lips and dribbling out the corners of his mouth.
âYouâre still one of them, huh?â You told him as he gurgled and coughed, fingers dancing by his sides as he twisted his head and twitched violently hard, teeth gnashing in his mouth, âYou still want to eat me...â
There wasnât a fix to his own nature. You watched him retch and fight himself before you moved through to your bedroom and rummaged through the boxes for something to use. You smiled when you found the ball gag. It was a simple thing, made of tough leather and a supple ball attached to simple metal rings. It fastened with a belt loop style fastening. It would be hard for him to chew through at least.
 The Other looked at you curiously as you returned with the gag hanging from your fingers. Something in his face twisted, as though he maybe recognised the item, but you watched his fingers twitch again and knew it was the right choice.
âI know what you might think, but this is purely to stop you eating me, okay?â You told him as you opened the fastening and presented the ball to his lips. The Other cocked his head, blinked, and then opened his mouth to accept the ball. You watched him chew the ball like a horse does a bridle before he then settled and let you fasten the back closed tightly. He sniffed, drops of blood dripping from his nose as he ground his teeth into the gag, his mouth parted and the clicks he made gurgled and muffled. It would also stop him from turning on you and summoning a hoard of infected to tear you open. It was a double protective measure. The Other shifted and touched the cool leather wrapped around the back of his head. He could easily undo it if he wanted to, but he let his hands drop and plonked himself down by your door, peering back at you as he pointed to your little bed and tent.
âDonât eat me in my sleep.â You joked. The Other rolled his eyes as you climbed into your layers of blankets and cushions. He didnât look at you, but stared at the door, cross legged and clicking softly to himself around the gag in his mouth.
 The next morning you woke up to the light in your eyes, and a clicking sound from by the window. As you opened your eyes you were greeted with a curious gurgle from the Other. His black eyes blinked bloody tears down his cheeks before he tilted his head and ground his teeth against the gag in his mouth. Blood painted the sides of his mouth and drool had dried in the corners of his mouth where the o-rings sat.
âGood morning to you too.â You groaned as the Other clicked in front of you and wiggled his jaw from side to side, his eyes looking over you. The exposed flesh had his mouth watering again, and you quickly hid the skin under a blanket before crawling past him and heading to the bathroom. The creatureâs hungry eyes followed your legs, and the Other prowled across the wood after you, like a small dog, his gaze fixed on the exposed skin of your calves and ankles.
âM-M-MornâŠing-g.â The Other babbled around the gag in his mouth as his fingers inched along the wood, chasing after your feet. You stopped as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The cold fingers pressed into your flesh, testing the give before you dragged yourself free and slammed the door in his face. The Other grunted as his nose was smashed against the wooden door.
 When you came back out later, dressed and clean, the Other was perched by the door again, sat on the balls of his feet, perched in a crouch as he looked at the handle. The knob was twitching. You took a deep breath and carefully reached for your axe, holding the handle tightly in your grasp. The handle twitched again before the door thumped and the latch unhooked. The Other watched the door creak open. A rotten hand curled around the wooden door, and you crept forwards a step before the Other clicked and launched himself at the arm. It took you a moment to realise that his mouth was full of the gag, but it was too late. The Other grappled the infected by the neck, throwing it against the column outside of the door before his arms bulged and he slammed its head backwards, once, twice, thrice, and painted the dirty white concrete with blood, bone and brains. The blood sprayed up the concrete as he continued hammering the creatures head backwards. The initial crack became a wet thud which dissolved into a slick noise of blood and flesh as the Other dug his hands into the cranium and dragged it open, scooping his bruised fingers into the goop. His teeth gnashed on the gag, and you covered your mouth as he pulled at his own cheeks, splitting the skin so he could stick his gore covered fingers into his mouth. He gurgled happily as he scooped the brain into his mouth, followed by the sickening crunch of the zombieâs femur under his foot. He twisted the legs free at the knee and punched his way through to the bone.
 Rotten marrow dripped over his fingers, and he groaned sadly, tossing away the bleeding leg in favour of finishing the obliterated head. He struggled with the eyeballs, and you watched, gipping, as he weaved one behind his gag, through the tear at the corner of his lips, and popped it between his teeth.
âWhat the fuckâŠâ You gasped behind the Other.
The Otherâs eyes snapped to you, and he gurgled happily, covered in blood again, as he chewed his meal contently. As you watched him eat, you made your way back into your apartment, shaking as you uncovered a set of reigns. He was still eating as you came back and weaved them around his head and attached the ends to the O-rings of the gag. With a tilt of his head, he peered back over his shoulder and looked you in the eyes, his bloodied fingers stroking the leather up and down before you gave the back of the reigns a gentle tug.
 The Other gave a grunt and a small cry, his black hair flying out of place as he tugged at the reigns, back towards his meal. His hands stretched towards the flesh, grabbing for the brains just out of reach.
âWe made a deal.â You whispered as you hauled him backwards, âYou want to be a human, Ji-woon, right?!â
The Other froze, his fingers pressed into the mess on the floor by the zombieâs head. They danced in the blood for a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes manic and his hairless brows furrowed.
âJ-JiâŠwoooon.â He gurgled before he slumped backwards and grabbed at your trouser leg, his cold fingers burying themselves in the fabric. The Other gave a small wail, burying his head in your thigh as he stroked your legs and shuddered against you.
You reached down carefully and petted his hair, âHumans donât eatâŠthat. But we need you to live and⊠I know youâre not human, but we need to think about how this is going to work, okay?â
He didnât acknowledge you, but leaned his head into your petting, pushing his choppy hair into your grasp as he clutched at you like a child.
âWeâll work through this mess, together, I promiseâŠJi-woon.â
#zombie x reader#male monster x reader#monster x reader#infected x reader#monster bf x reader#male zombie x reader#gender neutral reader#zombie x gender neutral reader#monster bf#monster reader insert#monster boy#monster romance#my writing#originaly work
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Italian Shadowhunter name/s
Hello and welcome to a bilingual post! Iâve had a few people ask me about the name of the Italian Shadowhunter, Filomena, who appears briefly in Chain of Iron. I reached out to RĂČ, who runs https://twitter.com/ItShadowhunters/ and works with Mondadori Books on their Italian translations of the Shadowhunters series. Sheâs helped me with a lot of Italian place information/translations/ names in the past (like Lord of Shadowsâ Chiara Malatesta, head of the Rome Institute) and she wanted to tell you a bit about how we picked Filomenaâs first name.
« Hi there! Iâm RĂČ. Cassie has asked me to write down some of the reasons that got us to pick âFilomenaâ as the name of the Italian character from âChain of Ironâ â without being too spoilery, of course.Â
We officially picked Filomenaâs name back in August 2019 (yep. More than a year ago. Sheâs been a thing for a while). {Cassie adds: This is also just the way book publishing works; it takes a long time for books to come out after theyâre written.]
I wrote down a long list of names â most came from Italian literature⊠and, yes. âBeatriceâ WAS one of them. However, we felt like âBeatriceâ was the easy, boring choice. We were looking for something different. Â
Thereâs a character called âFilomenaâ in Boccaccioâs Decameron. Back in 2019, we obviously had no idea what 2020 had in store for us⊠but now I do believe itâs weirdly fitting to have an Italian Shadowhunter called after a character from Boccaccioâs work in a book written during a worldwide pandemic. Â
When I decided which character from Decameron I wanted to add to my list of names, âFilomenaâ is the only name who seemed fitting enough (Iâm sorry, but whenever I think of âFiammettaâ I canât help but remember that PokĂšmon Gym Leader from Hoenn⊠and we already have an âEmiliaâ in the Shadowhunter world).
Itâs a very old name and, even though it may not be that popular anymore, I think it suits an Italian Shadowhunter at the beginning of the 20th century. Thereâs a character called âFilomenaâ even in Vergaâs I Malavoglia, after all! Â
Both Cassie and Cat loved the name as soon as they read it, and I was and still am pleased, too: it has a few meanings I truly enjoy⊠and I think that one of them is especially fitting, now that Iâve read âChain of Ironâ. I cannot share which one, though! Â
Now you only have to find out who her surname is paying homage to⊠» Â
---Â
« EhilĂ ! Sono RĂČ. Cassie mi ha chiesto di elencare alcuni dei motivi che ci hanno spinte a scegliere âFilomenaâ come nome per il personaggio italiano di Chain of Iron â senza dire nulla di troppo spoileroso, logicamente. Mi spiace! Â
Il nome di Filomena Ăš stato ufficialmente deciso nellâagosto del 2019 (giĂ . PiĂč di un anno fa. Filomena esiste da un poâ). Â
Ho buttato giĂč una lunga lista di suggerimenti, perlopiĂč derivanti dalla letteratura italiana⊠e, sĂŹ. âBeatriceâ FACEVA parte dellâelenco. PerĂČ avevamo tutte la sensazione che fosse una soluzione troppo semplice e scontata. Stavamo cercando qualcosa di diverso. Â
CâĂš un personaggio di nome âFilomenaâ nel Decameron di Boccaccio. Lâanno scorso non avremmo mai potuto immaginare cosa avesse in serbo per noi il 2020, ovviamente⊠ma a posteriori trovo stranamente sensato avere una Shadowhunter italiana con un nome che deriva dallâopera di Boccaccio in un romanzo scritto durante una pandemia mondiale. Â
Quando ho deciso quale personaggio del Decameron aggiungere al mio elenco, âFilomenaâ Ăš lâunico nome a essermi sembrato adatto (vi chiedo scusa, ma ogni volta che leggo il nome âFiammettaâ mi torna sempre in mente quella Capopalestra di Hoenn dai giochi dei PokĂšmon⊠e unââEmiliaâ nel mondo degli Shadowhunters ce lâabbiamo giĂ ). Â
âFilomenaâ Ăš un nome antico e, sebbene oggigiorno non sia piĂč cosĂŹ popolare, penso che vada benissimo per una giovane Shadowhunter italiana di inizio â900. CâĂš una Filomena persino ne I Malavoglia di Verga, del resto! Â
Sia Cassie che Cat hanno subito adorato il nome, e anche io ero e sono ancora soddisfatta: âFilomenaâ ha un paio di significati che mi piacciono tantissimo⊠e uno in particolare mi sembra molto adatto al personaggio, ora che ho letto Chain of Iron. Non posso rivelarvi quale, perĂČ! Â
Adesso non vi resta che scoprire chi omaggia il cognome⊠»
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Sin- Steve Rogers AU Chapter Three
Biker!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isnât Wandaâs twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I donât own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.Â
Word Count:Â 3, 379 Words
Summary: Y/n finally comes face to face with Biker King and itâs nothing like she imagined. And when she least expects it, the very person she came looking for will find her and all the emotions she has been holding in will come pouring out in unexpected ways.
Read Chapter Two Here!!
*
Under different circumstances, maybe you wouldâve stayed there, in his hold a little while longer. It wasnât like it was an unpleasant feeling...not in the least.Â
His hot hands and cool rings contrasted eachother deliciously on your skin and it had actually taken you a while to pull yourself out of your dazed trance, between getting the air knocked out of you and now....
âOh.âÂ
You didnât mean to yelp the way you did when your gaze met those of the blonde Adonis that stood before you, but you couldnât help it. Those eyes...if you had thought they were pretty before, now you could say with absolute certainty that they were utterly showstopping.Â
Salacious, intense, powerful...youâd never wanted to drown in a personâs gaze more.Â
He had the kind of eyes you donât just get lost in, but entirely lose yourself to. The kind that if you stare into too long, you might be swallowed like quicksand. And yet, even knowing this, you couldnât pull yourself away and had found yourself for the second time in only a short span of time, unable to breathe correctly.Â
His gaze was steady on yours as well, though unlike you he wasnât shaken in the least. He was all cool and collected, his eyes searching yours out shamelessly.Â
And so you stay like that for a few moments, his big hands pressed onto your mostly bare back and your hands gripping his forearms tightly, steadying- anchoring yourself. Though nothing about the piercing power of that gaze was anchoring or even real to you.Â
Gradually, your heart begins picking up an erratic pace which only spikes when his fingers begin tracing softly over your skin.Â
The shivers this sends down your spine feels like a slap to the face and you find yourself almost aggressively pushing yourself away from him. He hesitates a bit, but itâs only a split second before his hands are unclasped and off your skin.Â
Breaking away seems to break the trance-like state you were in and instantly, the embarassment sets in, your cheeks heating up immediately. You bow your head refelctively.Â
âIâm sorry,â you mumble out of pure shame. Not because of him, but because of yourself. Â
Why were you acting like this?Â
I mean, you werenât normally one to fall for a pretty face because you had grown up around rich pretty boys your whole life.
But he...
You take a cautious peek at him again and instantly regret doing so when you realize the fact that his eyes had seemingly never left you and were now practically glowing with amusement as he watched you closely.
Your breath hitches and you bite your lip, a nervous habit of yours. His eyes momentarily flick down to the action but they quickly return back up to your gaze.Â
Your eyes are everywhere at once, your breathing labored. âHeâs too closeâ, you think to yourself amidst the chaos in your brain.Â
And heâs too goddam perfect.Â
Heâs all sharp jaw, high cheekbones, silky, messy blonde hair, pink plump lips and piercing blue eyes...every slope and curve and straight edge of his face was all too perfectly harmonious with one another. To say you were in complete awe at the Adonis before you would be an understatement.Â
You couldnât breathe.Â
His plump lips are so pink and full and theyâre only highlighted more by his dark neatly kept beard, you have to blink several times to make sure youâre not imagining them. How can a man have such pretty lips?Â
You had never seen someone this alluring in your life, he wasnât at all like the pretty rich boys of your town.Â
He had a naturally intimidating aura to him, in that rough-around-the-edges badass biker way that you shouldnât be finding this damn attractive.Â
And then you take a moment to take in his full form. You were right; he was easily a whole foot taller than you, sporting more tattoos than you could count on his visible skin- that was, his collarbone and hands, some of the ones up his arm poking out when he moved.Â
Unlike most people here who wore kuttes, he was wearing a thick leather jacket with the word, âPresidentâ patched in bold black and white on it, but you knew he had his arms fully tatted because youâd seen it that day at the store.
 He also wore black worn jeans that clung sexily on his slim hips, chains hanging over the jean hoops and clanging everytime he moved. He clearly loved his black combat boots because it was visibly obvious he used them a whole lot.Â
His sexy mouth lifts at the corner into an even sexier smirk and you all but come undone when he speaks again. âItâs okay, angel.âÂ
âDollâ, âangelâ...
Your brow furrows and before you know what youâre doing...
âAre you in the habit of giving girls youâve never met pet names, sir?â You blurt without thinking.Â
The unintentionally sassy words fly out of your mouth before your brain can even catch up, but when it does, your eyes instantly widen and your hand flies to your mouth, clasping over it in complete horror.Â
You want to die when the excessive attitude in your words sinks in and suddenly youâre all too aware of just how much bigger and intimidating this man was compared to you.Â
He could snap you, and most grown men, in half without a second thought.Â
You open your mouth to apologize profusely thinking youâve offended this (most likely) dangerous outlaw, but you freeze once you see his expression.Â
He doesnât seem angry at all, in fact, heâs...laughing? No, itâs not a full-on laugh like the one youâd seen in that parking lot. Itâs more airy, more casual.Â
He was chuckling. At you.Â
He speaks again, this time amusedly. âNah, only the pretty ones.âÂ
Youâre caught off-guard by the suave of his words and you find yourself profusely blushing once more. You have no idea how to respond to him so instead, you just shake your head, desperate to escape this increasingly flustering situation.
âOkay. Now, if youâll excuse me...â you offer him a forced polite smile and go to side-step him.Â
You barely make it two steps before his hand is flying out, gripping your wrist firmly and tugging you backwards. A little gasp flies out of your mouth at the suddeness of the movement and before you understand whatâs happening, you find yourself pressed tightly against a wall, shrouded in darkness.Â
You turn your wide eyes onto Biker King, whose thick arms are now pressed beside each side of your head, caging you in entirely. His long torso is leaning down slightly, so his eyes are directly with in your line of sight.Â
His scent comes onto you like an avalanche. He smells strongly of leather, cologne, shaving cream, something woodsy yet manly and strangely enough, clean laundry.Â
It was unlike any scent youâd ever smelt on a man, but somehow it fit him perfectly and you found yourself inhaling deeper than usual, your heart racing at his sudden proximity.Â
Heâs so close, your chests are only an inch or two away and heâs staring straight into your soul, cornering you like a predator would a helpless prey.Â
âUh...â you can only mumble awakwardly, still kind of dazed and gaping up at him in utter shock, you can barely hear yourself over the loud pounding of your erratic heart.Â
Up close, heâs more beautiful than you couldâve ever imagined a person to be and his piercing gaze was honestly dizzying you.Â
âWhy are you here, doll?âÂ
His sudden question jerks you painfully back into reality and you press your lips together, your brows pinching up instantly at his words. The question is so blunt, so sudden, you can only blink furiously up at him.Â
âI- what?â You breathe shakily, suddenly unable to function at all.Â
He tilts his head down at you, raising a brow and speaking awfully matter-of-factly. âWell youâre that pretty little thing from that shit-hole parking lot, arenât you?â
At first you can only blink stupidly at him, not expecting him to recognize you but then it suddenly dawns on you...if he recognized you then-
You gasp loudly, cheeks more fiery than ever.Â
A knowing smirk grows on his face. âHey, for what itâs worth, angel, it was a pretty catchy ringtone.âÂ
You bite your lip in order to supress any small sound threating to spill over out of your lips.Â
His eyes darken when they fall onto your meek movement and he tightens his hold in the wall, inhaling sharply. âDamn...âÂ
Your blush darkens and your stomach clenches at his small, heated mumble that leaves those pretty lips.Â
Maybe it was the smug little smirk on his beautiful face that bothered you so much. Or maybe it was the way his eyes pierced through you like you were see-through, but either way, you felt trapped.Â
Like he was a lion and you were some small, distressed powerless prey, unable to escape that watchful gaze.
âI have to go...â you breathe curtly, staring at his mouth from under your lashes as his pink tongue pokes out, sweeping lightly over his lips.
He chuckles sexily. âOh, nu-uh, doll. You havenât answered my damn question yet. Whatâs a girl like you doing here?âÂ
âA girl like me?â You frown.Â
He laughs, looking away for a second before turning his magnetic eyes back onto you, somehow more intensely than before.Â
âYou and I both know you donât belong on this side of town, angel,â he whispers meaningfully, staring at your mouth fixedly.Â
âI-I donât even know you,â is all you can manage in a shaky voice, feeling like an invisible force is pushing at your chest.Â
His eyes lazily drag up to your own and he hums thoughtfully. âYou donât have to. You just have to tell me what you want with this place.âÂ
You find yourself reeling back indignantly at his demanding tone despite your nervousness. Just who did this stranger think he was?
âI donât have to tell you jack shit,â you snap. âNow let me go, please.â
If heâs shocked by your little outburst, he doesnât show it, instead he laughs lowly, the sound somehow like pebbles scraping against gravel and also like what silk felt on your skin or the way honey squeezes out of a bottle.Â
The sound was so sexy- a perfect balance of masculine and airy- that it felt like a carress on your skin.Â
âOh, youâre definitely not from around here, little spit fire.â
You want to ask him what he means, but before you can, a voice cuts in from behind you both.Â
âPrez.âÂ
The both of you freeze, but perhaps for entirely different reasons. Biker King looks mildly annoyed at the interruption, and you...
Well that voice sounded freakishly like-
Biker King releases a big breath, smoothly pushing off the wall and spinning around to look at the voice, leaving you to finally be able to release a breath you hadnât realized youâd been holding in.Â
Youâre still safely hidden behind the much larger frame of Biker King, but you can easily make out about three pairs of manly feet from between his lean, jean-clad legs.
âSorry, Prez,â the same voice quickly pushes out, but he sounds more panicked than apologetic. âI know youâre busy but...â he pauses, and for some reason you know itâs because of you.Â
âPrezâ? As in âpresidentâ? You found yourself wondering silently.Â
Tentatively, you step out from behind Biker King, head bowed. âUhm- I was actually just going so..âÂ
You donât even plan on looking at them before high-tailing it out of there, but a shocked voice stops you.Â
âY/n?!âÂ
Your head snaps up instantly.Â
And when your gazes make contact for the first time in a long time, you canât help the tears that instantly pool around your eyes, eyes and nose burning furiously as all the overwhelming feelings and thoughts youâd been suppressing for so long come rushing to the surface.
It was an instantaneous reaction because deep down you had felt he was near and a wave of conflict crashes right against you as you stiffen up.
Your mouth feels dry as you blink the threatening hot tears back. You havenât seen him in a while, but he hasnât very much changed appereance wise.Â
Those eyes were still the warmest blue youâve ever seen, that hair was still kinky and he hadnât chopped off his frosty tips.Â
It dawns on you why youâd recgonized that voice and your heart squeezes tightly as youâre fact to face with him...
Your voice is croaky and breathy when you say his name, but you force yourself to.Â
âPietro.â
*
Steveâs POV
I watch with raised brows as Pietro, or âPretty Boyâ as we called him and my angel -Y/n is what Pietro called her- naturally draw closer together, like being pulled together by some kind of fucking magnetic force, and a surge of anger rises within me instantly.Â
âSo your name is Y/n, huh?â I can find myself thinking that her name is beautiful, delicate and feminine like her and that it would probably feel good to say on my tongue.Â
Bucky and Sam each shoot a weird look my way, as if asking âwhatâs up with these two?â and I give them a short shrug, quickly turning my gaze back onto the stomach-churning scene developing before me.Â
Fuck, I hated her being so close to another man, it was inexplicable. I had just met the girl but I already knew I wanted her in my bed- it was like an instinct to me.Â
Pietro is now within reach of her and I can do nothing but clench my fists as he reaches his arms out, with tears in his eyes appareantly not giving a flying fuck that his brothers are watching this unfold and tugs her small body towards him.Â
What fucks me up more than anything is that she doesnât fight him in the least.Â
I mean itâs clear that they know eachother from their dramatic soap opera moment, but itâs the fact that they look so natural doing it -like theyâve done it so much before itâs muscle memory at this point- that makes me want to kill someone...perferably Pietro.Â
He buries his face in her hair, inhaling her scent deeply and I canât say I blame him. In the small amount of time Iâd spent close to her, Iâd become addicted to her smell. She smelt nothing like the women Iâd fucked over the years. They used cheap off-brand shit, that too potent sweet stuff...but her?Â
She smelled like wild flowers and vanilla, an expensive, soft, but not entirely inconspicuous scent I would fucking drown in if I could for the rest of my miserable life.Â
As I watched on, helplessly clenching my fists so as to not do something rash, she shakily lifts her petite arms and wraps them around Pietro, hugging him tightly to her.
Oh. I growl under my breath, unable to resist the pang of jealousy that hits me. Â
Bucky, my vice president, sends a look my way and Iâm pretty sure thereâs murder on my face, but all he does is smirk amusedly, the fucker.Â
But then it gets worse, because Pretty Boyâs hands start wandering, rubbing her back tenderly, up and down almost to her nice round ass. Up and down, up and d-
I see red, and before I know what Iâm doing, I feel myself lunging forward, ready to rip them apart.Â
Except...
âOh shit!â I freeze when I hear Sam voice all our thoughts at what has just happened.Â
In the time I had stepped forward, Y/n had suddenly broken away from the embrace, brought her small fist back and clocked Pietro right in the jaw.Â
We all stare like damn idiots at the loud smack sound, and consequent mixture of grunts and yelps that rings out, but none more than me.Â
Little spitfire packs a damn powerful right hook, even with her size.Â
I can see even Bucky, whose the most stoic of us all, is unable to do anything but gape at the scene.Â
Our shocks lasts very little because in the next second, still cradling her injured hand to her chest, she uses her other free hand to smack him in the head, over and over.Â
âYou asshole!â she hissses, whacking him anywhere she can get her small hand. Pietro is crouched over, arms thrown over his head in order to protect himself.Â
âY/n stop!â he demands.Â
But this only seems to anger her more and sheâs attacking him with more fury now. âHow dare you just up and leave like that? I thought-â she huffs, pained. âI thought you loved me, you dipshit!âÂ
It would seem my little angel has a potty mouth on her and I canât help but smirk bemusedly to myself despite the fact that anyone here can tell thereâs history there.Â
Sam and Buckyâs shock seems to have worn off as well and theyâre now staring, on the verge of laughter.Â
It was pretty comical Iâll admit, seeing as she was way smaller than him and still whooping his ass. It was actually pretty impressive considering he was one of my guys.
I snap into action once I remember that sheâs injured her hand and that Pietro isnât fighting back because if he did, he could kill her.Â
âSam, Bucky,â I snap, pointing at Pietro with my eyes. They donât hesitate a single second and instantly capture Pretty Boy in their hold, tugging him back.Â
I reach out and grab Y/n by her waist, easily lifting her up and away.Â
âLet me go, dammit! Let me go!âÂ
She wiggled aggressively against my hold, still flailing her small limbs about and yelling like a nutjob, but sheâs no match against my strength.Â
I hug her tightly, pressing her back to me so she can relax. âSettle down, angel,â I whisper calmly in her ear, but she keeps resisting, so I hastily add âIf you keep wiggling that pretty little ass of yours like that on my cock youâre going to make me do something Iâll regret later. So I highly suggest you stop. Fucking. Moving.â Â
I suppress the urge to grin when I feel her instantly stiffen beneath my touch. She finally seems to give up and fall limp against my hold.Â
I mean, I was only half lying to get her to calm down. Actually, I was already half hard.Â
âYou are one sick fucking bastard, Steveâ I think to myself bemusedly.Â
âY/n?! What the hell is going on?!â Another feminie voice calls out from behind us.Â
Our necks snap instantly towards the direction where it came from and I frown. A pretty redhead comes bounding towards us, or well, me, looking just about ready to kill me and it is then I realize that Iâm still carrying Y/n.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing?! Let her go!â She starts to give me hell, but Y/n suddenly sighs.Â
âItâs okay Wanda,â she mutters. âHe was just trying to keep me from killing-â
âWanda!â Pietro calls out suddenly and the redheadâs eyes widen, much like Y/nâs had when she had first seen him. She instantly turns to Pretty boy and runs over to him, tears in her eyes. She practically jumps on him and holds him tightly to her.Â
What. The. Hell.Â
Sam turns to Bucky incredulously as âWandaâ and Pietro hold eachother like they were the otherâs life line.Â
âDude,â Sam breathes over to Bucky. âWhere the hell is Pretty Boy getting all these babes from?âÂ
Bucky shrugs. âNo clue.âÂ
âWanda what are you doing here?â Pietro breaks away from her, ignoring Buckâs and Samâs whispers.Â
âOh Pietro! I thought you were dead!â she sniffles and Iâve had just about enough of this shit show.Â
âEnough.â I call out, gently setting Y/n down. I try to ignore her pretty gaze burning holes into the side of my head and focus on the issue at hand, turning my harsh gaze to Pietro.Â
He gulps audibly because he knows Iâm no longer playing around.Â
âPietro, youâre going to explain now.âÂ
Read Chapter Four Here!!
***
Pretty short chapter but I hope you liked! If anything I can rewrite it-
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Chrollo +PT Part 2 is finally out! I also figured it a name for the son, Akura. Enjoy! 7.7k words and it almost didnât fit in the post RIP.
| Part 1 |Â
~~~
"Eat lead Uvo."
"Already checked off the bucket list (y/n/n)."
God, you hated that nickname. "Don't test me." You growled, glaring back at your little boy with a silent message; 'You're in such deep shit once this is over'. You could see him physically gulp, and it only cemented the fact that despite being a pissy teenager, he was still the same, scared little boy you had taken in after the massacre. You almost teared up.
"Kurapika! Watch the road!" The woman yelped.
The blond swerved off the road, almost knocking you off and onto the dusty path beneath the car. "Kurapika," you began, "watch the road, I'll take care of anyone following us."
You could tell Uvogin wanted to say something, so you quickly dipped out of the passenger window and climbed onto the top of the car. The people in the second car stared at you through the windshield with pure fear in their eyes. You laughed to yourself, they must think you are a Phantom Troupe member. If only they knew.
You stood tall on top of the car roof, spine straight, shoulders back, chin up, you were ready for them to attack. You were ready to fight your old friends. You launched yourself off the roof and onto the second car, landing with your heavy boots and denting the car just as you did before, a little less damage though.
They were chasing you, you could see their forms driving a car with a new found vigor they lacked before. Machi was in front, her pink hair you used to love seemingly a bit darker, like it was drenched in so much blood it stained it darker. You locked eyes with her, and you could see the micro expression of her face. Brows lifting, eyes widening, she couldn't believe it was you. But it was, and you were preparing to take them down.
You flexed your fingers and soaked in the feeling of your terracotta gauntlets, preparing to tear down the entire canyon, but you stopped. A large blanket wrapping around the car they were packed in, though it did little to stop them. You saw them leave before it covered them, it seemed Nobunaga didn't make it in time. You chuckled at that.
Owl, the beast who worked for Jason's father, stood snuggly in front of the Troupe. He and the rest were as good as dead, this you knew, so you took the opportunity and shot out the lion heads on your gauntlets. They snapped as they flew through the crisp night sky and latched onto the sides of the canyon walls. With strength many didn't posses, you pulled harshly onto the chains and pulled down the stone walls. Stone, pieces larger than the car you stood on top of, came crumbling down to the floor, dust flying in the air. Your path was blocked, and hopefully the beasts would distract them long enough for Kurapika and his gang to gain enough distance.
You took a moment to look up, the beautiful night sky full of stars and constellations you couldn't find in the city. The shinning stars reminded you of a time where sitting around a trash fire with the pre-Troupe was normal. It used to be kind, open, and free. Nothing but a blanket of stars above you to lull you to sleep.
And your village, oh how you missed being able to see the night sky as clear as day, untainted by ash and blazing fires. The children playing in the fields and catching fireflies as they tripped on rocks they failed to see. Laughter, warmth, and a sense of homeliness you haven't had in years. You missed it, you craved it, you wanted nothing more than to go back and change something that could have prevented the Kurta massacre.
Your (e/c) orbs soaked in the light of the stars while your hair whipped against your face. As much as you wanted to sit down and cry, letting all the pent up frustration and hatred out, you couldn't show weakness. Not even to the all seeing stars above, or the gentle wind, and especially not to the enemies that will tear you apart.
A ringing knocked you out of your memories, taking you back into a cruel reality you didn't want to partake in. "Yes?" You answered, phone close to your ear as you took one last look at the shinning stars.
It was Jason, his sweet voice filled with worry. "We sent Owl and the rest of the Beasts. What happened?"
You hummed in thought. "A few men caught one of the Troupe members, the most physically powerful. We are on our way back to York New, I would prepare a safe place to store him, if the poison from his body is taken, we are screwed."
"Is he one of the ones you could take down?"
"No, we got lucky. We have to be cautious about this one." You turned back to York New, the shinning city moving closer and closer. "About the Beasts... they are probably all dead by now. The man we are bringing in killed four of them I think, the rest are slowing down about five other members, they don't stand a chance."
"Shit," he breathed through the phone, distant mumbling being heard but nothing being deciphered, "what do you think will happen now?"
"I'm not sure, but the Troupe won't let one of their own be taken like this. They'll be back I'm sure."
"Okay, I trust your judgement. Take care." Jason hung up before you could say anything more.
You hoped nothing bad would happen to him. He was a nice guy.
Soon enough you finally decided to sit down on the roof of the car, the city skyscrapers finally looming above and warning you of the upcoming confrontation you will have to partake in. Uvogin would be a difficult one to deal with, he tended to boast with his headstrong attitude and you were worried about him escaping. And Kurapika... what were you going to do with the boy?
You sighed, the car quickly coming to a stop. Finally, the people under your butt, rushed from inside the car and stared you down. "Who-Who are you?!" Questioned one panicked man, his skin a sun kissed brown and eyes as rich as chocolate.
"A friend." You hopped off the car and in front of the small group. "I am a friend of Kurapika, don't worry, I'm not a Troupe member."
They all seemed to relax a bit, but stayed wary of your strength. Being next to you they could tell you were way beyond their league.
Kurapika emerged from the car and readied himself to contain the one-man-army. One man, with gray hair and markings along his cheeks, scurried over and held the blond back. "Wait, we need to get a room."
"A friend of mine already has one for us, you are to contact your boss and inform him of the situation at hand." You mentioned. "This, surprisingly enough, is the place."
"How can we trust you?" He exclaimed, turning and leaning forward in your face. "You could be one of them! Waiting to kill us!"
"Everybody, please calm down-" began the woman standing beside Kurapika.
"My employer is the son of one of the Ten Dons, Jason Nargal. I contacted him about the situation and I've been staying in touch. Frankly I'm not in the mood to argue with someone of the likes of you, so please, shut your damn mouth before I loose what's left of my temper." You snapped, moving closer to size the man in front of you.
He shrunk back, eyes wide with a fear he has never felt before. "Very well." He turned his attention to Kurapika and the other girl with heavy breathing. "Let's hurry."
~~~
You sat down, your eyes staring at the wall as your mind drifted off. You were worried, pissed, scared, and so much more. Footsteps brought you back to reality, your (e/c) eyes taking in the grey haired man from before. He glanced back before quickly looking away. "You aren't going to interrogate the Troupe member?" He asked.
"No, I have no reason to talk to him, at least not in front of any of you."
He hummed and moved to the desk, taking the phone into his hand and making a call. Time passed before Kurapika and the others emerged from the vaulted room, and your fury returned.
Kurapika could feel it.
"Kurapika, I would like to talk to you. Privately."
He glared at you, his dark eyes gleaming slightly under his contacts, like charcoal in a slow-roasting flame. Was he challenging you? Silently threatening you to let him finish the war he began?
Maybe, but that didn't matter to you. All you wanted was to talk to him about the situation. And the newfound plan you guys would have to make.
Maybe he sensed the lack of hostility you bore. It must have been as he nodded slowly and followed you out into the white hallways. "(Y/n)," he began with caution, "I won't stop. I'm going to finish what I started and you can't do anything about it."
You bit your lip and whipped around, smacking him across his face. "I know that! But warn me next time! I had to leave Akura all alone in a hotel room because you were the only person I could trust! You were reckless when engaging close to so many Troupe members! You could have died if they caught you!" You paused for some breath. "You could have killed everyone!"
Tears began streaming down your cheeks, you hands rubbing your face to help relieve the stress. It didn't help as much as you would have liked it to. "You left Akura alone." You repeated with defeat in your voice. "If they find out where he is... they'll take him from me. I-I can't let-let them take both of you from me."
Finally all the pent up feelings burst through your eyes, fat tears streaming silently down your cheeks. "I ju-just can't. I wouldn't be able-able to live with myself if...."
Kurapika stood frozen, all this new information hitting him at the same time as your cries for help made it all the more confusing. "(Y/n)... it'll be okay." He held you up by your shoulders, leaning down to stare into your tears eyes. "Akura will be okay, you'll be okay, I'll be okay. You and I will take down the Phantom Troupe and we won't have to worry about them anymore."
He stopped for a moment to think about your words. They seemed exact, different than just someone hunting for their eyes. What did you mean by your son would be taken away from you if they knew where he was? Wait, how did you know the name of the Troupe member? And how did he know an old nickname you used to have? "(Y/n). What are you not telling me?"
There was a deafening silence between the two bodies, but enough was said. "Kurapika-"
"Don't lie to me. You know something I don't." A pregnant pause was apparent. "Answer me (y/n), I don't have time to watch you cry."
You looked up, staring into violent eyes gleaming a beautiful blood red. "I'm sorry." You wailed, pulling yourself back into the wall with your hands covering your face. "I'm sorry I never wanted this to happen. I wanted you to run away from this, to have a family, to be happy! I never wanted you to fight my mistakes. I never meant for this to happen.
"I promised myself I would take care of them, I promised myself I would give you the best life you could hope for. I-I promised myself... and-and I failed." You shook your head with your hands hiding your shame, your voice cracking with messy sobs. "I'm sorry for bringing you into this, Kurapika. This wasn't meant to happen...."
He took a step back, you were cryingânoâsobbing. Hiccups and sniffles wracked from your hidden face. This has never happened before. You never cried, not even once. He only saw one tear and that was when you found him at the burnt down village.
You were not sad, you were beyond devastated.
"(Y-y/n)... d-don't cry. Just tell me what you know. How did you know his name? How did he know you?"
"I knew them, I met them when I left the village. I would visit. I-I taught them nen because they were struggling out there. I didn't mean for them to attack us, but they did and I tried to stop them, but I was pregnant and-and I killed one. I ran because there was too many. I was selfish, I-I should have fought. I was scared and...." Your strained voice trailed off into a distant whimper.
Kurapika stared at your shriveled form, a look of betrayal etched onto his brows. "You won't stop me. I'm going to kill every single one of them for what they've done and you are going to watch." He stopped his retreat, turning his head to give you one last glance. "I'll take care of everything."
"Kurapika, it's not worth it. Please just leave this to me, let me fix my mistakes! Take Akura and go somewhere safe! Please!"
"Why should I?! You've kept so much from me! You knew them?! You trained them!?! Why should I listen to youâ do what you want me to?!"
"They want me! They'll take Akura and kill you! If you're in their way you'll die! I don't want that to happen! Please! Take Akura and get out of here! Let me take care of this so you guys can be safe and happy!
"Let me fix my mistakes... please!"
Kurapika whipped around. "Why would they be after you? Akura?"
You dropped your head in shame, but straightened your back. It was time to regain your lost composure, you couldn't let anyone else see you like this. "The spider is flexible. They-they have a head and legs. Each one can be easily replaced, that is how they work. Their current leader, the spider's head, is-is Akura's father. We-we got along, and-and one thing lead to another and... well, Akura was brought into the world. I tried to hide him, but with him being alone it wouldn't be difficult for them to find him. God, I don't know what I would do if they got their hands on him."
You pathetically gave an airy laugh at your memories. When you gave birth it was loud, like static in your ears, painful, though you barely remember it. Then you heard the beautiful sound of a babies cries. You were beyond happy when you heard his first cries, and it seemed as if all of your problems drifted away for a moment.
But like everything in your life it was short lived, and when you stared up at Kurapika you forced yourself to gather the remaining pieces of your strength and move forward. That is what you had to do, again and again.
"I'm sorry Kurapika, I've failed everyone."
The blond stared at you with bloody eyes, it was your fault? Everything that happened was your fault?! You were supposed to be a guardian, someone to protect the clan, yet you killed everyone?!
"Yeah, you did." He spat, his back now facing you.
"Wait! Kurapika! I-I don't care what happens me! Just pleaseâplease take care of Akura!" Your voice was demanding, the first time it had been since you broke down. "He doesn't deserve the life he has, neither do you, please, if anything happens to me, take care of him."
He didn't answer, instead he turned away and marched back to Uvogin's cell.
You prepared yourself for being in front of the wolves, but a ringing from your phone stopped you. "Hello?"
"(Y/n), father wants you to come back, be a body guard since the beastsâare you okay? You seem to be breathing heavily?"
"Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a bit frustrated." You have a long sigh and straightened your back. "Everything seems to be on lockdown over here, they have men coming over in a few minutes. Where do you want me to meet you?"
"Is the Blue Sapphire Hotel good? I can have someone pick you up?"
"No, no, that's not necessary. I'll be there soon."
"Alright, I'll wait in the lobby for you. See you soon."
He hung up and left you to your own devices. You finished fixing yourself up and sauntered over to the last person here, the man with markings under his eyes. "I'm leaving," you started, "my employer wants me to guard them now that the beasts are dead. You'll be fine here right?"
He looked up and nodded. "I'm waiting for another call."
"Alright, call me when they take him and what they look like... just in case." You made sure he understood with another nod before you made your way out of the hotel.
Your dress was slightly dirty, and your feet still bare. You probably looked strange, a woman with disheveled hair, missing shoes, and a dirty formal dress. You received many stares, some because of your intimidating stature, or your exposed cleavage, and some because of your appearance. So you ignored them and kept your head high.
But if you didn't ignore the stares you would have noticed the small group staring at you longer than most. Their suits and wigs might have hidden them from most people, but you would have noticed them right away. Phinks and Nobunaga turned to confront you, but Machi held them back. "Now's not the time, we'll get her after Uvo."
"Tch, fine. Isn't Shal looking into her employer?"
"Mhm." Machi hummed, continuing to their mission at hand; saving Uvogin's reckless ass.
~~~
Uvogin waited for what seemed like a god awful amount of time. Sooner or later they would get him out of this stupid prison. Hopefully sooner rather than later, his ass was beginning to hurt.
As if on que he heard movement, blood splatter, and the creaking of the heavy metal door. "Took you long enough, I'd thought you'd never make it."
Phinks entered with a grin. "Yeah, yeah, had to stop by the vending machine on our way up here."
Uvogin's grin stretched across his face as the rest of them entered and tossed away their disguises. "You wouldn't believe who I met." He chuckled.
Shizuku, with her doe like eyes wondered over to his wound, summoning her Blinky and preparing to take out the venom from his veins. But it was Nobu who spoke up. "(Y/n)." He exclaimed immediately, almost excitedly.
Uvo's grin turned into a playful pout. "Way to ruin it Nobu."Â
She simply shrugged and began to remove the poison, as Nubonaga laughed.
Machi 'tsk'ed and moved over to the table's side. "You should hurry up and get out of those cuffs. We're going back to the chapel to figure out a new plan."
Uvo huffed and tore his hands from their bindings. "Fiiiiiine." He groaned, pausing when realizing her words. "A new plan?"
"Yup, Feitan tortured that Owl guy so we already have some of the treasure. Besides, (y/n) could be a problem." Phinks chimed in with a mischievous grin. "You now she's much stronger than before right? You can tell just by passing her."
"Maybe she made a new condition with her nen gauntlets?" Nobunaga chimed in. "Do you think she would do that?"
Phinks hummed. "She never liked the thought of making conditions. She probably just trained to get more powerful, that's more her style."
"Anyway, we should hurry and head out, Chrollo is waiting."
~~~
You marched into the lobby, the crystal chandelier above drenching your body in a warm, ethereal glow. The pearl earrings you wore gleamed like small balls of Fire against the light, it complemented your (h/c) hair.
Jason saw your confident form, his thin lips stretching across his face into a gentle smile. "(Y/n)! I'm glad to see you're alright!" His long legs helped him scale the lobby floor to face you. "We are on the top floor, follow me."
"Who is up there?"
"Everyone from the dinner, they have a lot of questions for you, so be prepared." He lightly chuckled, though it seemed a bit strained.
The both of you entered an elevator with a large mirror on one of the walls. You took out your phone and frowned, still nothing from that grey haired man from earlier, were the people really late? Your mind drifted back to Kurapika, your brows furrowing at his resolution about killing the Troupe.
"You look distracted." Jason commented, his voice heavy with concern.
"Sorry, I just have to make a few calls."
"Oh, with who?"
You glanced over at him with a sly grin. He blushed at it, realizing how nosy he must sound. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"It's fine, I just need to check up on a few people. My son for sure, I need to make sure he's okay."
"Y-you have a son?" His words were confused and surprised. "I-uh-I didn't know you-you had a son. Um, how old is he?" His smile was lopsided, and nervous. He hoped you didn't think he judged you off of your past relationships.
"He's six, going seven later this month. The twenty-third."
"He sounds like a nice kid, huh?"
You lightly chuckled at the thought of his intellectual nature. "Yeah, he really is a sweet kid. He's so smart too, loves puzzles more than anything. Words searches, sudoko, picture puzzles, he loves any and all of them. Loves reading too, his favorite is Father and I...."
"The father?" Jason inquired.
"Oh, he's out of the picture. He'sâhe wasn't a nice man."
Jason turned back to the mirror, his eyes tracing over your relaxed features. "I'm sorry to hear that. How is, uh, your son fairing?"
"Akura's his name. He never knew his father, it's just been me and a friend I see as a little brother." The elevator stopped, and it's shiny doors opened to a brightly lit hallway. "I guess we're here."
"Yup, there's plenty of rooms to make a call, but you should probably answer some of my dad's questions first. You might not believe it, but he can be quite impatient." His tone shifted to something brighter, a reflection of the whites of his eyes.
You entered the warm hallway and to the door. Before you could even touch the door knob, it swung open to reveal a cheeky grin from a familiar green eyed man. "Hey there sexy," His cheshire grin shifted to one of disgust when he glanced at his brother. "Jason."
"Jackson! Leave them alone." Exclaimed someone from behind the door. If the deep voice was an indicator, it was defiantly the dad.
"Sure thing." Jackson groaned and ran off into the giant hotel room. Well, more like a house, the place was huge!
"(Y/n), sweetheart, come in!"
Sweetheart? Did Jason's dad just call you sweetheart? You peeked behind the door and yes, it must've been the father as his smile was barely covered by his beard. He was sitting next to Manchile, in which looked extremely entertained with your expression.
"Well, come on in." The broad man giggled as he threw his arms over the back of the couch.
You glanced over to Jason, a deep blush spread across his tanned cheeks. "Sorry about that." He whispered and further apologized through his hazel eyes. "He might be going crazy."
"Well, (y/n), we have a few questions to ask if you don't mind." Manchile began. "Like what the hell happened out there?"
You fully entered the room and sat on one of the plush chairs off to the side. "There isn't much to say, by the time I got there most of the men deployed her already dead."
"How many Troupe members? You said seven right? Or was it five?"
You crossed your legs as Jason sat across from you, his green eyes shinning with curiosity. You paused and counted, there was Franklin, Uvo, Machi, Shizuku, Nobu, Phinks, and Feitan. "There were seven, one was caught, and five chased after us. After that the group I was with got away because of the beasts... and now we are here."
"Did the Troupe member say anything?"
"No, he was admit on keeping his mouth shut." You glanced down at your hands, the phone you bought earlier this week blank. Where was that call? "May I make a call?" You blurted. "It has to do with the captured Troupe member."
Jason's dad shrugged and waved his hand. "Go ahead, put it on speaker so we can listen in." You nodded and made the call. It rang. And rang. And rang. And stopped.
You looked at the number you typed, it was correct so why didn't he answer? The entire room was dead silent, so you tried again.And again. And again.
Each missed call brought a disgusting taste to your tongue. Everyone must have been able to taste it, there was a collective shaky breath between everyone in the room.
"So, what do you think happened?" Jared, Jason's younger brother, asked. "Why aren't they calling?"
You stayed silent for a moment, doing your damndest to make up an excuse, but that wouldn't do any good. "He-He's probably dead. They probably found Uvogin and saved him."
"Uvogin?"
"The Phantom Troupe member we caught." You quickly said.
Manchile sighed and fiddled with his shiny watch. "All the beasts are dead, the treasure was taken, and we lost one of our leads. This night has truly gone to shit."
The father hummed and leaned back in his chair. "We can't leave, it would make us look like cowards."
You glanced over at the two and closed your eyes for a moment to breathe. "I need to make some other calls, is there a room I can step into?"
Jason stood up this time with a nod, and motioned to a room off to the right.
"Thank you." You stepped in, shut the door, and locked it. You let out a shaky sigh, your mind running a mile a minute at the thought of Uvogin being saved. "Akura first, I need to check up of him."
The phone rang a deathly chime, but it was picked up unlike before. "Momma?"
"Hey sweetheart, how are you?"
There was a displeased hum on the other side. "I was asleep, it's almost two a.m Momma. You should be asleep too!" Your little boy seemed too excited to have been sleeping, but knowing him he followed your rules.
"I know, I know. I've just been busy with work that's all...."
Jackson listened through the white door, his head pressed firmly against the wood so he could get a good angle. He chuckled to himself, his youngest brother, Jared, leaning in with a scowl. "We shouldn't be doing this."
Jason scoffed. "We have nothing else better to do, besides we are just helping Jason get his lady. Nothing too bad."
They listened harder through the door, and through the muffled speech they could clearly hear the word sweetheart again. Jared glanced up at his older brother whose face was confronted into a suppressed laugh. Quietly they moved away, and back to the seats before Jason came back with bottles of champagnes and wines.
He almost knew by the look on their faces that his younger brothers were up to something. "What are you doing?" He whisper yelled to them, eyes sharp with suspicion.
"Your girl has a boyfriend." He said, point to the door with an evil grin. "You have never had a chance."
Jason glared at his brothers, glanced at his father, and back to his brothers. "It's rude to listen in on other people's calls!" He snapped again, pouting his lips.
"Just saying."
"It was Jason's idea." Jared quickly commented.
"Hey! You didn't stop me, you're at fault here!"
"No!"
"Boys." The dad stated, bringing them to a stop. "Calm down, it was just useless fun."
"Why am I the only responsible one here?" Jason exclaimed, grabbing a small glass and pouring himself some red wine. "I remember when you used to control these rats, dad, now you've become one of them."
"Dirty old rat to you, squirt." He snapped, petting his beard with his free hand. "Dirty old rat king is more accurate, though."
"King?" Jackson yelped. "Yeah right, you're more like a squabbling peasant, dad."
"And you're a filthy stable worker, shoveling manure and getting the shit kicked out of you by my horses!" The father straightened his back, earning an eye roll from his eldest son. "And I'm no peasant! I'm a king!"
"Then at the very least I'm a knight." Chimed Jason, finally loosing up and getting into the skit. "Fighting the mighty dragon and saving the princess."
Jackson snickered. "But the princess is already betrothed off to another it seems."
Jason stopped and glared at his brother's antics. "She doesn't-she never said she had a boyfriend. She's just talking to her son probably." He huffed and pouted, sitting on one of the love seats and crossing his right leg over the other. "She said she had a friend too, but she thinks of him as a little brother."
"She has a son?" Manchile asked, he was listening in on the conversation the entire time for shits and giggles, if he was a rat he would defiantly be an emperor, he thought.
Jason nodded and took a small sip of his blood red wine. "Yup, sounds sweet too. She really care about him. I think his name is Akura if I'm not mistaken."
"That's a cute name." Butted in the Dad, pouring himself some sparkling champagne. "Sounds almost Kurtish, don't you think Manchile?"
He hummed. "Almost? Not quiet sure, there's a lot of strange names out there."
"Guess so."
All eyes stared at the opening door, your figure drenched in the warm lighting of the room and your sleek black dress hugging your curves like a glove. You still haven't gotten your shoes back on, and instead wondered around without any protection. Maybe you just forgot about it? Maybe you simply didn't care, either way when you walked into the room it quieted down.
"Welcome back." Jackson teased. "You have a son huh? Who's the lucky guy?"
You visibly stiffened and eyed the men in the room. Did they know? No, they couldn't know. There's no way they know, right? "There-"
"Behave yourself Jackson, prying into other people's lives is rude." The father scolded. "Don't pay any mind to him, sweetheart, he never knows when to shut his trap."
"No, it's-its fine. There is no lucky guy, he's long gone by now."
The dad gave a gentle smile. "My wife died a long time ago, I know how it feels." He lightly laughed, though a deep sorrow hung heavy in the air. "I had to take care of these brats on my own for what? Fifteen years maybe?"
"I'm sorry for your loss." You empathized with him, a single parent taking care of their kids is something you knew all too well. Loosing someone you loved, was also something you understood. The difference is you hated the person you loved, and you wanted to move on after you served judgement. You doubted he wanted the same thing. "It's hard taking care of a kid on your own, but three? And one of them being Jackson, I'd go insane."
He laughed, Jackson giving a playful glare. "Damn straight. He's the worst."
Jackson moved closer with a hurt expression. "Seriously? Throwing me under the bus in front of a pretty girl?"
"You're not her type!" Argued Manchile with a booming laugh. "There's no way!"
"Oh come on, I'm everyone's type!" He shuffled to your side and threw his arm over your shoulders. "More so than lover boy over there, eh?"
You couldn't help but smile, oddly enough this group of mafia men felt like family. This was always your problem, you always wanted to trust and care for people, but it always ended poorly. If you started to care for these people, you would loos them just like your past family.
But you couldn't help your nature, so you gave a small chuckle and shook your head. "No way. Defiantly not my type."
He whined and put his weight on you, surprised when you held him up like the child he was acting like. "Come on! I'm lonely and I need a girlfriend!"
Jared scoffed. "You're the one who sleeps with so many women you could be the next Genghis Kahn!"
Jackson blushed and let you go. "That sounds horrible."
"Yeah, it is." Jared finalized, sitting down and propping his gin up with his hand. "Besides, I think Jason called dibs."
Jason's face flushed a deep red when you glanced at him and his eyes flashed with embarrassment. He opened his mouth and quickly shut it.
His family laughed at him. "He's embarrassed! Poor boy has fallen hard if he can't admit it!" Cackled the father. "Interested?"
You rolled your eyes with a sly grin. "That wouldn't be wise, I have a lot of enemies you wouldn't want to deal with."
"Enemies? We're part of the mafia, the top of the mafia at that! We can make sure no one will touch you or your son." The dad mentioned, seems he's taken a real liking to you, and when you glanced at Jason, you could see a glint in his eyes. "Seriously, nothing could hurt you."
"You'd be surprised, money and guns are useless against some people."
Manchile decided to speak up. "Like that Uvogin guy? I sent out a lot of my men to take him down, and even more guns, but now they are dead. Are your enemies like him?"
The dad cocked his head to the side, his smile sinking into a slight frown. "Is the Troupe your enemies?"
You tended up, and their eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry?"
"You mentioned before that our best is nothing compared to them, and every time you talk about them there seems to be familiarity in your voice." He leaned forward on his chair, discarding his now empty glass to the side table. "You said you were hunting them down, and your son's name, sounds Kurtish to me. By any chance, are you a Kurta?"
You stayed silent, there was no way you gave him that many hints... right? Did you get so comfortable that they figured it out? Will they kill you? Use you as bait? Your son? "That doesn't matter."
"It does, it means you are probably being hunted. It means you are extremely valuable, your son too if he has your genetics. Besides, if you have information about the Troupe that no one else knows about, your value just increased immensely." He stood up and straightened his open suit jacket. "It's a hobby of mine to research and figure out the value of things, an appraiser if you will. Kurta eyes are an interesting story no doubt, gouged out by the Troupe and resold around the world." He sauntered closer, his bulky form and commanding tone making you feel so small. "What do you want me to with this information?"
"Leave it six feet under where it belongs." You gritted your teeth and took in a deep breath.
"I can arrange that for a price." He paused and you nodded for him to continue. "I want you to tell me what happened, I'm more curious than I am greedy."
You gave a small laugh and crossed your arms against your chest. Your focus shifted to another as you recounted things you wished to forget. "You wouldn't want to hear it."
The dad stared down at you and placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. When you looked into his eyes you saw a stern, yet sympathetic expression. His beard shifted, and his lips curled into a small smile. "Humor me."
You shouldn't trust them as much as you do, but you missed having friends. You missed people... so you spoke forbidden memories. "The Kurta lived on an island away from others, we are usually feared because of our eyes, so we isolated ourselves." You sat down beside Jason and leaned onto your knees. "My father was the leader of the village, and when I took my exam I passed with flying colors."
"Exam?" Jared interrupted.
"Yes, it's something us Kurta's do to get ready for the outside world. I mentioned how people fear our eyes, so the exam is a written test about other places, and a physical type exam. We would leave the village and do a simple task, if we feel strong emotions our eyes would turn red, if it happened once you would fail and have to take it again. It is for safety."
You watched him nod and continued. "I was always good at keeping myself together so when I took the position of guardian, it seemed appropriate that I could leave the village and explore the world. I trained and learned from many people before finding the Troupe... I took pity on them."
You leaned back and sighed. "I taught them nen and befriended them. Years and years of jumping around from my village and the outside world and I found myself falling for one of them."
"Wait," Manchile stopped you. "are you implying your son, Akura, is one of theirs?"
"Their leader... we got close." You let the new information sink in. "They didn't know, I was barely seven weeks pregnant at the time of the attack. My village, my family, slaughtered like lambs. I killed one and ran away. I was terrified and didn't know what else to do.
"I don't know why they did it, but it happened and I've been on the run since. Akura doesn't know, I'm lucky he's never questioned it, but I'm running out of time. If I don't start taking them down I'm worried Akura won't be safe anymore."
"Are they searching for him?" Manchile asked.
"They don't know he exists, but they are crafty."
"Where is he?" The Dad now asked, his brows furrowed in thought.
"A friend was supposed to watch him, he's one of the only people I can trust... but he left to fight the Troupe. Akura is alone in a hotel room not too far from here."
"What do you think we should do?"
"I don't know, whatever you do be careful. I'm not going to stop now either. I'm not quiet sure if you can, but assassins might be your only bet."
Jason worriedly glanced at you, looking for your gaze to share a thought. "Are you okay?" He whispered, you nodded without looking at him.
The dad stepped closer. "What kind of assassins?"
You hummed, Meteor City assassins might be the best. They have similar upbringings so maybe they can garner sympathy? Probably not, but maybe they'll stand a chance. "Assassins from Meteor City are probably your best bet but.... you might need the best of the best if you can afford it."
"You don't meanâ?"
You interrupted him with a nod. "They might be strong enough to take some of them out."
Jared yelped and stood up. "Might?! They're the fucking Zoldycks! They can kill anyone!"
"Just to be safe, I genuinely think they are the only ones who stands a chance."
Jason turned back to you with a questioning look. "And you? You can't go out there and fight them! You have a son to take care of!"
Now it was your time to stand, back straight, gaze stern, a look you've dressed yourself in on the regular. "More reason for me to go. I'll meet up with my friend and join you for the next auction. I suggest you stay away from the other mafia dons, if you hire the Zoldycks you can never be too careful."
"Are you sure?"
You nodded with conviction. "Yes... and I'm joining the hunt."
~~~
Chrollo sat down on a large pile of rubble in a broken down church. The moonlight sleeping through the crumbled down ceiling illuminated his pale features and framed his coal black eyes. In his calloused and used hands laid a book that stole his undivided attention, and to his side a small candle with a flickering light.
His ears picked up distant voices, though he didn't care enough to look up. Instead he listened in as the voices neared the building.
"Uvo!" Chimed Shalnark, waving as he covered his playing cards. "How was prison?"
The large man grumbled under his breath and placed his hands on his hips, the few beer cans he had falling to the floor. "Shut it, besides I need you help finding someone."
The blond hummed in question. "Sure."
Pakunoda stopped messing with her nails and stood up. "What happened?" She asked, glancing at the group.
Phinks spoke up before the others could. "(Y/n)'s here. She must be working alongside the mafia."
Shizuku sighed loudly and sat down on a rock. "Who is (y/n) anyway?"
Nobunaga clicked his tongue with a defeated sigh. "We told you on the way here!"
"No you didn't."
"Yes, we did!"
"No you didn't!"
Franklin butted in. "It's not worth it."
Feitan explained. "(Y/n) is Chrollo's old girlfriend."
"Huh?" Exclaimed Shizuku, her doe like eyes gleaming. "You have a girlfriend Boss?"
Chrollo finally decided it was time to look up from the word filled pages of his book. He gave her a smile. "I had one, she ran after the Kurta massacre."
Phinks returned to the conversation. "If she's working with the mafia, she might be a hunter. Shal, you are a hunter right?"
"Yup!" He happily chirped, pulling out his phone and typing away. Uvogin moved over to him and mumbled a few words. Some time passed before Shal exclaimed loudly.
Chrollo glanced at his expectingly, and everyone seemed to hold their breath. "Oh! She's a hunter, and her employer is one of the sons of a don. I was curious so I decided to look into her call history, you know for science, and you wouldn't believe what I found." He paused for dramatic effect. "She made a call to someone in a hotel, not an employer, but a kid!"
"A kid?" Nobu wondered, scathing his mustache with his index finger. He paused, finally realizing what a kid would be doing with a hunter. "Boss, did you and (y/n) ever... uh... you know?"
Chrollo smiled at the thought of you, and he finally closed his book and stood from the rubble. He sauntered over to the entrance of the church, the moonlight bathing him in an ethereal glow. A few minutes passed as he stared at the moon, waiting for Shalnark to give him the location. His other plans could wait, he wanted to meet the kid on the other side of the phone. If that kid is your own, which it seemed likely, he could use it to get you back and keep you with his permanently.
"Found it! Somewhere in the Marina Hotel... the call was sent to room 443 on the fifth floor, west wing."
"Shal, Machi, Paku, I want you to come with me. We are going to collect what is mine." His dark eyes held conviction, and nothing would stop him from getting what is his.
#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere hxh#yandere phantom troupe#yandere hunter x hunter x reader#yandere chrollo x reader#Yandere chrollo#Yandere platonic Phantom Troupe#Chrollo x reader#kurapika#Chrollo#Uvogin#Pakunoda#Nobunaga#Phinks#franklin#Feitan#Shizuku#Shalnark
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Corpse's Bride (I)
Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader
Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parentsâ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?
Notes: Yea, I donât know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I havenât posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Letâs just get 2020 over with, please.
Tag list currently closed.
Chapter I - The wedding
Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like theyâre either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasnât to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.
Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember youâd only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.
It was already raining, which wouldâve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadnât been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didnât mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasnât perfect upon arrival.
You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when youâd been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You werenât rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.
You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglotsâ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, youâd never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.
âStop fidgeting,â your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.
A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.
Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. Heâd been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.
The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.
Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.
âOh, miss, you shouldâve let me put my coat down for you,â the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.
Your motherâs unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. âYes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.â
The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.
âHurry up. Weâre already late,â your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.
The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your fatherâs shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.
To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Werenât you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? Youâd been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?
âIt is good to see you again,â she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.
âOur apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!â Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.
She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.
âAh! You must be the daughter weâve been hearing so much about!â Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.
âItâs a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,â you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. âYou know, weâve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-â
The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothersâ, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.
Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someoneâs throat.
You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.
âHi, Iâm- Iâm Thomas. Itâs very nice to meet you, miss.â
You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. âI donât think you have to call me âmissâ, Thomas. Weâll be married soon.â
He smiled shyly. âI would keep calling you âmissâ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldnât change that for me.â
You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldnât imagine his having been any different.
âBetter watch it there, Thomas.â Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. âDonât want to scare the little lady off there.â
Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didnât have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, âThe nameâs Barkis. Iâm a⊠good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.â He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomasâ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.
At least, thatâs what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.
âNow,â she reminded you, âThis will be good for the family. I know youâre an unconventional spitfire, - I donât know who you got that from â but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your fatherâs business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.â
You couldnât breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.
âAnd as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldnât have already died in some gutter.â
You nodded, âI understand, mother. I just need some air.â
She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.
It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didnât care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.
Quickly.
But you couldnât reach.
You leaned across the railing.
If you could reach a little further-
But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.
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#Corpse husband#corpse x reader#corpse husband x reader#corpse#among us#youtube fanfiction#corpse bride#pewdiepie#jacksepticeye
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Unexpected Places (Pt. 04 of 11)
Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader
Word count: 3 K
Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.
<- Previous part (03)
Next part (05) ->
{Vikings Masterlist}
Ă
Fit For a Princess
You're listening to the chattering between Aslaug and Helga, looking at pieces of jewelry at the market place. You say something every now and then, but you can't shake away Ivar's stare. On the last days, two weeks or so, he's right there, sitting across from you on every meal, eyes burning through you. Hvitserk said he's studying you, still expecting you to snap, to decide you had enough of all this and want to go back home. To Wessex, where your older brother now rules. And Ragnar already said he'd take you back if you wanted, so there's that.
But leaving Kattegat hasn't even crossed your mind, not before and not now. How could you trade all you have here, and slide back into the invisible chains you had on? It wouldn't be just stupid, it would be the death of you. You're finally understanding who you are, the things you like, the kind of people you like. In England, you had to play a specific role, because everything was political. Here, you're just who you are. And you do what you want to do. This is true freedom.
âI really like this one,â Helga says, as your eyes wander through the many rings, earrings, and necklaces. âI'd like those two as well.â She continues as you pace around, further away from both women, turning the corner and then walking to another store. The pieces they have here are all made of metal, delicately bent into beautiful shapes. You caress a bracelet with the tip of your fingers, wondering if it'd look good on you.
âDon't waste your time with these cheap things.â The voice, that you now recognize immediately, makes you turn around. Ivar comes from among the people, only stopping when he's standing next to you.
But despite his attention being on the jewelry, your eyes are on him. âYou're tall.â It comes out suddenly, because he never stood beside you like this, so you couldn't have noticed.
âWell, you're tiny.â Ivar glances at you, playing with one of the rings. âAnyway, you shouldn't be looking at these things. They won't suit you very well.â
Giving the old man an apologetic look, you randomly pick a bracelet. You don't get why Ivar is being rude, but, judging by what Hvitserk had told you, his brother isn't one to hold back. He says what he thinks, it doesn't matter how mean it may sound to others. You're still trying to figure out if this level of brutal honesty is good or bad. âI really like this one.â Searching on the small bag attached to your dress, you take four coins, way more than what the bracelet is worth, handing it over to the man and putting the bracelet on. The silver color is beautiful, and the drawings carved on it remind you of the pattern you saw on one of the boats that brought you here.
Ivar rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, sighing. âYou are such a kind princess.â Dropping the ring, he starts walking side by side with you when you set in motion through the market. You weren't expecting that.
âKing Ecbert was king of Wessex. This isn't Wessex.â
â(Y/N)! Wait for us.â Aslaug calls and you stop, giving her a look and a nod before turning to face Ivar, who towers over you.
âTherefore, I'm not a princess anymore.â Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a small smile.
âThat's a shame, isn't it?â He lowers his voice, leaning closer.
âNot really.â Shrugging your shoulders, you give a little step back, putting a strand of hair behind your ears before giving him a little wave, walking back to where both women are.
After they're done shopping, as you walk back home, the clouds push themselves apart just enough for the sunlight to appear. That makes you stop, taking in the warmth on your skin, but it soon disappears.
âHey, (Y/N),â Hvitserk calls, coming from the beach with his father, Ubbe and Bjorn, who's walking behind them. âWe're going to meet some traders. Wanna come?â
âWhy not?â You mumble, elbowing Hvitserk when he's close enough.
âGo put on some pants then. We're riding there.â
âOh.â It's so absurd it's stupid, how you can't seem to do the simple things people know by heart here. âI'm not very good at riding.â Whispering, you tell him, not wanting anyone else to listen.
âI'll help you out.â He nods, tilting his head to where Bjorn is. âWithout cracking your head open in the process.â
Smiling you nod before heading inside to change out of the dress. You're just about to head out when Aslaug tells you to grab a cloak in case it rains later, so you have to make another trip to your room. But soon enough you meet Hvitserk and the others again, reading the horses.
âWhich one is mine?â
âOver here.â Hviserk guides to a beautiful white horse. âGive me your leg.â He says, and for a moment you furrow your eyebrows, but soon enough you understand what he means. Raising your leg, Hvitserk grabs your calf and you push yourself up, successfully mounting on the horse with his help. It feels funny to be this tall. You have ridden before, but most of the time you used a carriage. There was no need for a princess to ride on the back of a horse at Wessex. It's wild though, and you've grown to love wild things. âKeep your feet like this on the stirrups at all times. Don't put of your feet all the way in or it might get stuck if you fall. If you touch her with your ankles, she'll move forward. Pull the halters and she'll stop. The same thing goes to pull her left or right, but since we'll ride together she'll just follow the other horses.â
âGot it.â
âYour ass might hurt at the end of the day, so be prepared.â He warns before jumping to the back of his horse. âIf it'll help you feel more steady, you can hold on the saddle, but trust me, you'll get the hang of it once you lose the fear of falling.â
âHave you ever fallen from a horse before?â As you speak, the small group starts moving, and your mare does the same, keeping their pace, slow at first until everyone starts galloping, and all air leaves your lungs. You hold tightly to the saddle, scared at first, but you remember what Hvitserk just told you. If you let the fear of falling win, you'll never learn to ride properly, and you'll never enjoy it. Slowly, you let go of the saddle, holding only on the halters, making sure it's loose so she'll feel free to run.
And the sensation is amazing. The wind makes your hair whip your face over and over, and you lightly shake your head to get rid of it. Glancing at Hvitserk, you mirror his position, a smile creeping over your lips. The landscape, green, blue, and gray, passes by in a blur, and you try to take it all in. It's beautiful, breathtaking. Almost literally, because when you finally stop, you're struggling to catch your breath.
âYou ok?â
âYeah.â You answer, and Hvitserk nods before moving to stand next to his father and brother. You see a small troop approaching, riding up the hill.
âYou're quite good at this,â Bjorn says, guiding his horse away from his siblings and near you. âA few more lessons you'll be riding like a true Viking.â
âI really like it. Its... Thrilling.â You're finally calming down, and your thighs ache a little bit.
âWanna see the traders coming?â Turning his horse around, he gestures at a cliff, not too many miles away. âWe could go up there, it'll give us a nice view.â
âIsn't it a little high?â
âThe horses are used to it. C'mon.â Without waiting for your answer, he starts galloping away.
Glancing at Hvitserk, you hold the halter tightly to keep the mare from moving. âYou think I should?â
âSure, it has a nice view. But if you feel like the trail there is too much you come back here, alright? The horses are used to it but you're not.â
âAlright.â Touching the mare with your ankles, you loose the halter and she immediately moves, following Bjorn's horse. It doesn't take much until you're deep inside the woods, the horses now trotting. Bjorn keeps silent, giving you a few glances since you're slightly behind him.
âThat way.â He says, and you just let your ride follow his. The smooth ground soon starts changing, with more rocks, and becomes unravel. When you see a steep slope, with apparently nothing to hold on to, you pull the halters, making the mare stop.
âI think it's too craggy.â You speak up, getting Bjorn's attention. âI don't want to fall on my first try.â
âShe's used to this kind of inclination. You'll be fine.â
Considering it and also what Hvitserk said, you decide to leave the cliff viewing for another day, when you feel more secure on the horse. âI think I'll pass, Bjorn. Maybe another cliff where I can go on foot.â
âDon't be a pussy. It's not that craggy.â Then, he kicks his horse hard and it sets in motion. It doesn't surprise you, but when the mare moves as well, following him, you're startled, and in the sudden change, you let the halter fall.
Holding on the sell, you can only watch as Bjorn's horse easily climbs the slope, at a fast pace, and yours do the same. But when it suddenly turns left, around a huge rock, you lose your balance, and since there's nothing to hold on to, both your feet escape the stirrups, and you're pulled to the ground hard. Losing your breath, a sting on your ankle makes you yelp as you roll down the slope, only stopping once the ground is flat again. Rolling on your back, you take deep breaths, trying not to move the left leg since the pain is spreading through your foot and calf. âDamn it!â You exclaim, removing the hair from your face.
â(Y/N)!â It takes only a few seconds until you see Bjorn kneeling by your side. âAre you alright?â
âI just fell from a horse and rolled down a hill!â You speak fast, the pain on your back making itself aware. âOf course I'm not fine!â
âLet me take youââ He says as he starts to pull you up.
âNo.â You cut him off, slapping his hands away. Bjorn has done enough for today. If he wasn't trying to be a freaking show-off, this wouldn't have happened. âGo getââ
â(Y/N)?â You hear his voice and breathes out relief. âI heard a yell.â
âOver here. Lying on the ground.â Annoyed, you cover your eyes with both hands. âCan you please see if my ankle is broken?â
âWhat happened?â He asks in a low voice, and you uncover your eyes to see him jumping to the ground, kneeling next to your stretched out leg.
âBjorn made his horse bolt up the slope and mine followed.â You explain, giving him a hard glance, groaning when Hvitserk lifts your leg to remove your boot. âEasy there!â
âSorry.â He mumbles. âBut calm down, it's not broken, just sprained.â
âShit.â Taking a deep breath, you sit up taking off the other boot as well and throwing it at Bjorn. âYou can't keep yourself from getting me hurt, can you?â
âMe? Everything you had to do was hold on. The horseââ
âI'm not a Viking!â Bursting out, you look up at him. âI'm not some shieldmaiden, I'm still trying to fit in here and learn things. You can't expect me to follow your pace.â
âI justââ
âBjorn, you should get back. Help father with the traders, I'll take her back to Kattegat.â Hvitserk interrupts him, and Bjorn leaves after a grunt, saying something you couldn't understand.
âAnd he thinks he has the right to be pissed!â Lying back down, you groan. âI think this is a sign to stay away from him. Every time he's in the situation, I get hurt.â
âAlright, c'mon.â Hvitserk pulls your arm until you're seated again. âYou need to put some ice on this ankle, let's go.â Hvitserk takes your mare first, tying her up with his horse before mounting and pulling you up to ride with him.
Despite the slow pace he keeps, your back still hurts. Resting your head on his back, you sigh. âWhy are you so quiet?â You ask after a while.
âI'm thinking about the right words to tell this to mother. She won't be happy.â He answers, a hand resting on his thigh as the other holds the halter. âShe's not very fond of Bjorn already.â
âIt was partially my fault too, I think. I let the halter slip and had nothing to hold on to.â
âYou're know Bjorn likes you, right?â Hvitserk suddenly says, and you pinch your eyebrows together. This thought hasn't crossed your mind. âThat's probably why he did that. That's how he... Gets a woman's attention.â
âWould you do the kindness of telling him it's not working?â Muttering, you rest both your arms on his back folding them as if his shoulders were a table. âActually, I've been meaning to tell you... I met Ivar at the market place today.â
â...And?â He asks after a few seconds of silence.
âNothing, just... It was nothing, really.â It's hard to understand exactly what you want to tell Hvitserk. You just can't seem to put your feelings or thoughts together. âI was looking at these things and he said they wouldn't suit me.â Stretching out your arm, you show him the bracelet. âI bought this there.â
âThat's nice. But cheap.â Rolling your eyes, you remember Ivar said pretty much the same thing.
âHe also said I'm kind. But that was probably in a mocking tone, so...â You get into Kattegat, and Hvitserk greets some people. âI don't know.â
âI believe it's safe to assume Ivar doesn't hate you.â Hvitserk slows down the horse when a group of kids run by. âIf he did, he wouldn't put himself on your way like that... Or look at you the way he does.â
âAnd how does he look at me?â The words come out slowly because you're not sure if you want to know.
âThe only thing I can say for sure is that he never looked at a woman like that.â You finally get to Ragnar's house, and Hvitserk asks a man to help you down. Once you're safe on the ground, he jumps off, telling the man to take the horses. âAnd I mean it in a good way.â
He puts a hand around your waist, helping as you jump on the right foot until the table in the main hall. âDo you think heââ
âWhat happened this time?â Aslaug asks, her voice already giving out that she's not happy.
âTwisted ankle. She fell from the horse.â
âTake her to her room, Hvitserk.â The Queen mutters, saying something to the girls who were following her. âAnd carry her this time if that isn't too much to ask.â
âAlright.â He replies, picking you up with a hand on the small of your back and another under your legs, quickly finding the way to your chambers.
Giggling, you give him a look âI love when your motherââ
âCareful with the teasing this time. I might just drop you to the floor and I don't care if your a princess who fell off a horse.â The fake angry tone makes you laugh again.
âMy bad, Prince Hvitserk.â You snap back, rolling your eyes.
Aslaug has her maids help you bathe first, cleaning the dirt that is attached to your face and hair before lying you on the bed again and applying a piece of fabric with cold water on your ankle, keeping it elevated with some pillows. She isn't happy to know the whole story, despite you assuring her it's alright now. You could've died, she said, breaking your neck. But it's useless to worry about what could've happened. The best thing to do now is to focus on the ankle, which she said will be better in a few days, and let the whole incident go.
Later that night, you give little jumps to the main hall to eat something. It's just Ubbe and Bjorn, seated on a table at the corner. Nodding at them, not wanting to chat with Bjorn at the moment, you sit at the edge of the table in the middle, your back turned at both men, taking the jar and pouring yourself something to drink.
âHow's your ankle?â Ubbe asks, and you look over your shoulder.
âIt's fine. I'll be able to walk normally in a few days. But my back still hurts.â Completely ignoring Bjorn's existence, you turn away from them again.
Drumming your fingers on the table, you wait for the Queen's maids to bring your meal. When you feel someone moving behind your back, you assume it's them, and place your cup further away to open some space. But instead of the bowl with rabbit stew, a necklace is put down before you. And it's absolutely beautiful, with three blue stones surrounded by a golden metal, delicately molded around it. It's different from anything you've ever seen in Wessex. Taking it in your hands, you see Ivar dropping to the seat next to you, and you turn to look at him.
âWhat is it?â You ask, unable to hide the smile that comes to your lips.
âA necklace.â He simply says, and you roll your eyes at his tone. What a way to ruin the mood.
âYeah, I noticed.â The smile slowly drops as your eyes go back to the piece, fingertips caressing one of the stones.
âThis was made for a princess. Not those cheap things.â He gestures at your bracelet, and you giggle.
âWell, this is absolutely beautiful.â Glancing at him, you find he was already staring. âIs it for me?â You inquire in a lower voice, not wanting to make any assumptions that might embarrass you.
Ivar nods, lightly pushing your shoulder. âTurn around. Let me put it on.â
Doing as he says, you turn your back at him. Ivar takes the necklace and places it around your neck, and you hold your hair up so he can close it on the back. Once he's done, you let the hair fall before turning to face him, folding your left leg and carefully laying the wounded ankle on the bench between you and Ivar. âHow does it look?â
You wait for an answer, but it doesn't come. Ivar's eyes were fixed on the necklace, but slowly, they come to meet yours. Tilting your head to the side a little, you feel heat spreading through your cheeks.
Shaking your head lightly and looking down, you take a deep breath. âHave you heard that I fell from a horse this afternoon?â You're glad you got your brain to function, changing the subject. âTwisted my ankle.â
Ivar's stare falls to your bare feet on the bench, the skirt of your dress pulled up to your knee. âMother told me it was someone else's doing.â As he speaks, Ivar gives an angry stare at where his two brothers are, and it's obvious who he's looking at. âBut I think you'll survive.â You feel his fingers caressing your skin, from your knee and down through your calf, so softly you wonder if he's really touching you.
âI will.â You assure him, biting back a smile.
âIvar,â Ragnar calls, and it does take a while until you both look at where he's standing, near the thrones. âYour mother wants to speak with you.â
âWhat now?â He asks, annoyed.
âI don't know. Go ask her.â And he disappears.
âGuess I'll have to go.â He glances at you, grabbing the clutch.
But before he can push himself up, you grab his arm. Perhaps you shouldn't do it. Perhaps this whole thing is just some kind of joke he's pulling on you, but still, the necklace is beautiful and he was... Kind. So you lean closer to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. âThank you for the gift. It's very beautiful.â
Ivar is frozen, even after you let go of his arm. He stands there, blue eyes locked on yours. Slowly, painfully slow, a smile comes to his lips. And it feels different. True, genuine. âYou're welcome, princess.â He whispers before pushing himself up to his feet and walking away.
You're still a little dazed when the rabbit stew comes, and you can do nothing but play with the spoon. But heavy footsteps get your attention, and when you look at your side, you catch a glimpse of a very angry Bjorn disappearing inside.
He saw everything. And it takes you by surprise to notice that, the moment you laid eyes on Ivar, you immediately forgot Bjorn and Ubbe were here. Everything just... Faded away, and there was nothing else, just you and him. And this is not the first time it happens.
Ă
@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07
#ivar imagine#imagine ivar#ivar x you#ivar x reader#ivar x y/n#ivar the boneless imagine#ivar the boneless fanfiction#ivar the boneless x reader#imagine ivar the boneless#viking imagine#imagine vikings#ivar vikings x reader#vikings x reader
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sakusa kiyoomi hates you.
he had been classmates with you for years
and in all of them, for at least some time, he always had the ill fortune of having to sit next to you
you â who was messy beyond his comprehension
there isnt a day you dont scatter your textbooks on the floor
your pencil case was unclean
and was your bag even a bag or was it a trash can?
you always leaned in too close whenever you ask him a question
and because you almost never understand the first time heâd have to explain again and again
you lent your things to anyone who asked
and despite that, youâre his rival for top of the class
you bothered him
he thought he was finally free of you when he started college
lol
on his first day, he saw you on campus
you were already laughing with and clinging onto the arm of someone he did not recognize (so he assumes itâs someone you have just met)
he comforted himself with the thought that you werenât going to be classmates with him anymore at least (since you were taking different courses)
and he was happy for a while
he lived his life as he normally did
he liked how he could walk around the room and not see your mess of a place somewhere
he liked how easily he topped the class
he liked how people distanced themselves from him (awe, respect, fear â he didnât bother to know why)
he liked life without the minor incovenience that was you
he had always been wary of you though
years of wanting to avoid you had trained his eyes to keep watch for you so he could quickly slip away or prepare himself before he has to face you
it became a habit he couldnât stop, even in college
he would find his eyes on you every once in a while
and you would be laughing with your friends
or studying
he would pass by a room you were in from time-to-time and he would see how much cleaner your place is
it was only right, he would think
the change satisfied him
then he noticed other changes about you as well
you seemed to be more confident
your choice of clothes fit you better
your hair was worn up or down appropriately
you even had a hand sanitizer chained to your bag
there was something different about the twinkle in your eyes
and when he saw you present at one of those school gatherings
he realized you were shining
but he stored this thought away why should he care anyway?
you show up at one of his games
he saw you first at a food stall and hurried away
but he tried to look for you in the crowd during warm-ups
he needs to know whether youâre cheering for his team or for the opposing team: this is what he tells himself
you meet his searching eyes and smile
brightly
and once again, sakusa thinks youâre shining
you give him a thumbs up and proceed to your seat in the stands
obviously, you were supporting him your schoolâs team
he saw you take part in the cheering and the celebration of points
more accurately â he looked at you
the entire time he was aware of where you were in the stands
and he found his eyes drifting toward you when he can
after the game, he found himself wanting to ask you how the game was this was his first time seeing you at a volleyball match btw
but he couldnât
because, though you had been classmates for years before, he didnât think the two of you were close enough for him to talk
besides, all those years, he had made clear he didnât want to talk to you but you talked to him regardless
it would be awkward
so he pulls away
but because he had left himself unsatisfied, gnawing at him inside was the feeling of wanting to talk to you
whenever he saw you laughing with your friends, he wanted to know what it was about
he wanted to know what book you were reading and what for
he wanted to know what on your phone screen was so enrapturing to you
he wanted to know
he wanted to talk to you
he realized how he wasted all those years with you
there you were then, approachable and also approaching him
friendly, kind
and he pushed you away
he shunned you
ran away from you
because sakusa kiyoomi hated you
but now
as he gathers the courage to make his way to you
all he could think of was how he hated even more the regret of not getting to know you
#i just wanted sakusa kiyoomi enemies to lovers#sakusa#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa college!au#sakusa kiyoomi college!au#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu college!au#omi#omi x reader#omi college!au#omi-kun#well its not really enemies to lovers is it#but something along that#b:cei
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house rules {2}
pairing: jimin x reader (f.)
genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au
rating: explicit
warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut
words:Â 19.6k
summary:
â {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of themâŠ?} â
or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two donât know what the fuck theyâre doing
.
.
Next morning, on Christmas eve, you try to be as nonchalant as you can. Thankfully your walls are thick enough so no one took notice of your late-night shenanigans and what happened between you before Hoseokâs interruption was barely anything out of the ordinary.
Thankfully you get yourself distracted with the preparations for this evening. Every year the five of you plan a traditional Christmas dinner, idea courtesy of Hoseokâs and Seokjinâs minds, where every single one of you was assigned to different tasks.
Seokjin is in charge of the roasted turkey, as he is every year, Hoseok will cook his famous vanilla-roasted sweet potatoes, Jimin will prepare a cauliflower soup and Ana is always in charge of the desert. This year choosing the recipe of a Buche de Noel.
Youâre left with the simple task of making smooth mashed potatoes and bringing the booze.
Even though simpler than what others have to do, it gives you time to be alone and focus on something else other than Jimin. Whether youâre cooking or going to the store to pick up the alcohol, your time is productively filled with anything other than thoughts of him.
You take a nap around midday, leaving the kitchen free for the guys to use. Taking a hold of this opportunity to stay clear of Jiminâs gaze. You make sure your interactions are limited between the lines of what is only necessary, even when the preparations are done and you sit around the table.
Ana and Seokjin arrive together, the turkey the size of a small TV, which Seokjin himself puts on the table. Not letting anyone else help him or carve it, flashbacks of last year when Jimin tried to carve it and nearly dropped it still etched to everyoneâs memory.
You help Ana move the desert to the fridge for later, and as all of you take your places at the dinner table, you feel a particular set of eyes on you.
Thankfully you donât sit next to him so you donât have any one-on-one conversation like you do with Seokjin sitting to your right. You only talk to him when the conversation involves the whole group and thatâs only to not alert anyone that something is off.
Your mind is swarmed with memories of Jiminâs look. With the way heâs looking at you now.
You ignore it in favour of talking to Ana at the end of the table as she rumbles excitedly about the party next week. You immerse yourself in that conversation, going lightly over some details and pouring another glass of wine as Seokjin passionately joins you.
Although, even if youâre engrossed to something else you canât help but notice one thing.Â
He never mentions Dinah.
And that gives you magnificent, dreadful hope.
.
.
Itâs New Year's Eve, and youâre in an awfully good mood.
The party is in full bloom, the essence of joy and excitement wafting through the air, people dancing their worries away and laughing under the neon-lights (Ana really went all-in in the decoration department), having fun in what can only be a fitting welcome for a bright New Year.
The mulled wine has gotten slightly into you, landing you in that perfect spot between sober and tipsy, just enough to elevate your already high spirits. Besides youâre also celebrating finally finishing your book. Itâs been a bitch of a struggle but finally, youâve gone and did it. Finally booking an appointment with a publishing company that took an interest in you after reading one of your drafts youâve previously sent them.
And well. Dinah isnât here.
âI cannot believe Iâm talking to the next Stephen King!â Hoseok yaps excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder, voice raised higher than normal due to the several âold-fashionedâ he managed to throw back.
You grunt from the sudden weight as he leans a bit too much on your side to stand up. âOkay, step it down a notch, buddy,â you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder.
He thinks it over before-. âSir Arthur Conan Doyle?â
Your eyes widen, an involuntary laugh escaping you. âI said step it down a notch, not climb the whole mcfreakin ladder?â Hoseok giggles happily, before his eyes rest on the hostess, whoâs currently talking to a coworker, gleeful smile in full bloom.
He waves at you to lean closer to him and you oblige. âSee that girl over there?â he whispers to you conspiratory, pointing at Ana who seems oblivious to your conversation. You chuckle at his drunk antics but decide to appease him and nod.
A blissful smile takes over his lips. âImma marry her someday.â
You barely keep your smile at bay. Honestly, Hoseok is whipped for Ana and anyone who doesnât see that is blind, so it doesnât sound weird coming from him. Youâre willing to bet his wish is gonna come true someday. Itâs just a matter of time.
Though youâre happy for your friends, you canât let this teasing opportunity pass you by.
âHey, champ, I got some bad news for youâŠâ you press your lips together in mock-sadness and Hoseokâs face falls.
âShe has a boyfriend,â you deliver the final blow and his eyes widen. Before he bursts into tears.
At least a couple of people stare at you, as Hoseok bawls his eyes out and you canât stop cackling. Oh, god, you didnât know he was this drunk, he was perfectly fine moments ago! Although to be perfectly candid, he has a low alcohol tolerance, so really this one is on you.
Ana shows up after a few seconds, worry etched into her features after seeing her boyfriend cry like a baby. âWhat happened? Are you okay?â she asks him, obviously more sober than him, but once she sees you laughing, her eyes narrow. âWhat did you do to him?â
You shrug, your expression being the poster-child for innocence. âNothing! I just told him you have a boyfriend.â
This sends another wave of tears down Hoseokâs cheeks and Ana laughs incredulously.Â
âIs it true? Do you have a boyfriendâ Hoseok struggles to ask through his hiccups and Ana canât repress the lovesick smile on her lips.
âYes and heâs a giant baby.â
âDoes that mean I still have a chance?â
Ana chuckles before pressing a kiss on Hoseokâs pouty lips. âItâs you, you dufus! Now, come on, letâs get you to lay downâŠâ
âReally?â he says with the most childlike smile youâve ever seen on him. And only seconds later it turns into a smirk. "Oh, I will lay down, I will lay down so hard that you-â he struggles to complete his sentence, âthat youâll want to lay down with meâŠâ
You groan out loud, not ready for the scene to turn into an NSFW one. âAre you horny all the time?â you complain out loud and the couple raises their brows at you.
â...Already know the answer to that one. Thank you very much five years of living together!â you admit regrettably and Ana tsks you.
âServes you right for having the nerve to terrorize the sun himself!â
âThatâs me!â Hoseok points to himself with a proud smile and you press your lips together to stop the giggles from escaping as Ana rolls her eyes fondly at her boyfriend.
âIâll get him to my room-â Hoseok finger guns her, winks and blows her a kiss, âcould you please make him some coffee?â Ana pleads you as she struggles to push a drunk Hoseok down the hall.
âYou got it, babe! Iâm gonna roast this coffee so bad, itâs gonna go running to its momma!â you announce in the spur of the moment, but Ana just looks at you like youâve grown a second head.
âDoesnât work for me, does it?â Ana just shakes her head and you huff. âIâll go get the coffeeâŠâ
You drive through the crowd, barely avoiding the drinks spilling left and right and finally reach the kitchen. Thankfully thereâs only like a couple of people around, so you reach for the french press easily, adding the coffee grounds and warming some water in the microwave.
âWhy on earth are you having coffee with so much alcohol around and why does that weirdly make sense for you?â Jimin enters your vision, resting his hip on the counter in a mirror of your stance and you have to take a breath.
His dark blue hair is slicked back, revealing the magnificence of his eyebrows (yeap, thatâs another spot of Jimin youâre weak about). Heâs dressed in all black; black jeans, black T-shirt with an open neckline, a leather belt hugging closely at his hips, a dangly earring gracing his earlobe and a silver chain resting against his glistening collarbones. He has been dancing and all you wanna do is dive in and bite at the skin of his neck, glinting welcoming under the dimmed lights.
Focus.
âGive me a break, itâs not even for meâŠâ you joke back, just in time to cover up your little zone-out. Jimin stares back confused.
âWho then-?â he makes a sound of realization before he chuckles. âHoseok,â he responds and you nod, a giggle already on your lips.
After Christmas eve, when you refused to even speak to him, things became less weird. It seems like the two days you spent actively avoiding each other helped in restoring the dynamics back to normality. Youâre not even sure who made the first move but after a few days, you were back to normal, as if that thing on the couch never happened.
Maybe it is for the best to pretend it never happened. No feelings are going to get hurt this way.
âYeap, Ana took him back to her bedroom,â you reply, moving to pour the water into the french press.
Jimin raises an unconvinced eyebrow as he hands you a mug. âAnd are you sure theyâre not gonna fuck back there?â
You take the mug with an appreciative nod. âHonestly, theyâre probably fucking right now on their way there. Maybe they are, maybe theyâre not. Maybe Iâll be scarred for the rest of my life walking into that and maybe I wonât.â
âAnd youâll take those chances?â Jimin chuckles incredulously and you almost swoon at the way his smile lights up the room.
âThis coffee wonât deliver itself!â you joke and Jiminâs smile turns bigger.
âYour service is greatly appreciated!â he says with an awful British accent and proceeds to laugh.
âWell, thank you good sir!â you play into it with a curtsy and both of you burst into happy, slightly intoxicated giggles.
Your eyes rest on the french press as the coffee grounds seep into the water and itâs like your lips have a mind of their own when they ask the following question.
âSo, alone tonight?â you ask with fake nonchalance and you swear Jimin tenses.
You canât help yourself. From the moment you realized Dinah was absent you wanted to know why. Theyâve been dating for almost a month, so that means theyâd still be all over each other, you figured theyâd want to spend New Year's together.
So how come Dinah isnât here?
Jimin nods, eyes absentmindedly following your fingers as they trace the marble counter.
âWhat happened to Dinah? Didnât want to spend New Years with our ugly asses?â you joke, hoping to lift the tension off his shoulders and rejoice when Jimin cracks a smile.
âNo, no. Actually, her friends are throwing a party tooâŠâ he simply says, not giving you another explanation even though something else clearly bothers him. You donât ask further, figuring heâll tell you if he wants to, so you move to press the plunger down and pour the brown liquid into the cup Jimin handed you earlier.
âAnd I actually didnât âŠâ he hesitates, biting his bottom lip.
God, this is straight-up torture.
âDidnâtâŠ?â you urge him on, sensing his desire to say whateverâs bothering him.
He takes a breath.
âDidnât have the need to invite herâŠ?â he admits, eyes on the steaming cup of coffee, struggling to put his thoughts into words as you stare at him utterly confused. He didnât have the need to invite her? Like, he didnât care if she was here?
No, Y/N, donât get your hopes up.
Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair.
âI mean.. I didnât want to.â
And you find him staring at you again, with those intense, magnetic eyes and your breath is sucked out of your lungs.
He didnât want to invite her. Why? What does it mean? Why did he do it?
And why is he looking at you like that?
Did he-?
âSurprise!â a familiar female voice echoes through the kitchen as Dinah throws herself literally against Jimin, hugging his waist with an excited smile. No concern in her eyes over your panicked faces.
You donât know if she heard your conversation but if she did, she doesnât show it.
Jiminâs wide, panicked eyes travel between you and Dinah. âDinah, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending New Yearâs at Minohâs?â he turns around to bring her forward and the intimacy hiding in the domestic action drives a knife through your chest.
âThat party was boring as hell. And I missed you,â she says with a blinding smile and leans in to press a soft kiss on Jiminâs lips, ripping your heart in two.
You canât stand this. You canât stand to watch as she kisses him right in front of you and you feel like an outsider, glimpsing at something you long for but canât have. Is it always gonna be this hard?
You swallow the lump in your throat, gripping the cup tighter and force a smile on your lips just in time for the couple to miss your crestfallen expression.
Itâs time to get out of here.
âThatâs great! Youâre just in time to spend New Yearâs together!â you exclaim with forceful enthusiasm and Dinah nods excitedly as Jimin looks at you with an indecipherable expression. âYouâll have to excuse me, I have to deliver this bad boy!â you smile, pointing at the mug and you start walking away, already waiting for the moment you donât have to keep that smile on your face any longer.
That seems to wake Jimin up as his eyes widen. âWait, Y/N, I didnât-â
âHave fun at the party!â you interrupt him, keeping the smile on for a little longer, before you turn your back at them, smile disappearing, steps fast as you miss Jiminâs face filled with despair.
.
.
Your steps bring you back to the living room, already having delivered the coffee to Anaâs room. Although Jiminâs suspicions were correct and you walked into a scene youâd rather forget, closing your eyes to avoid any more damage on your retina, resulting in you leaving the couple with a half-spilt coffee.
Not that theyâll be needing it now anyway.
Stepping into the main area of the party you canât help the sour mood that takes over you, watching everyone have a good time. You were also having a good time until Dinah arrived.
Which reminds you. What did Jimin mean back then? Was it just stupid you with your tendency to read way too much into things or did he actually mean what you wanted him to?
And if he did, why is he still dancing with her?
Your eyes are stuck to the couple in question, dancing in the middle of the living room as a mid-tempo dance track plays through the speakers, Dinahâs hands wrapped around Jiminâs waist as he sways her softly to the beat.
The night started out so well. You were having fun, for once all worries put aside as you didnât have to think about the book or Dinah, or Jimin. You were happy.
But then someone decided to shit all over that happiness and you were back to the beginning. Having your heart broken by your best friend and he doesnât even know.
You take a breath to calm the erratic beating of your cracking heart when you see a too familiar face emerging from the kitchen.
Oh no, what is Jaehyun doing here?
You move quickly, dreading to talk to him, hoping he wonât see you but, alas, luck was never on your side.
His eyes spot you all the way across the room, with numerous people in between like he has laser vision or something. A smile takes over his lips as he waves at you and begins walking towards you.
God, no. No, you canât deal with him right now. Heâll probably want another date and you know he deserves to know the truth but you just canât do it right now.
Youâre quick to move to the balcony, trying to lose him through the crown but his voice keeps calling you even outside. You slip through the people and into the living room, stopping to see him briefly lose you as his eyes scan the balcony.
You escape into the kitchen, hoping he wonât look for you here and in your hastiness to hide, you fall face-first into Seokjinâs chest.
âFuck, sorry, you need to move!â you say urgently, trying to hide behind the massive wall he calls his shoulders.
Seokjin regards you with a suspicious glare. âWhat are you doing?â
âTrying to hide from Jaehyun!â you bite through gritted teeth as your eyes scan the open area behind you. With relief you realise Jaehyun isnât anywhere near, just a bunch of other people and Jimin talking with Dinah and Hoseok.
Your heart still clenches uncomfortably when Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.
âWhy are you hiding from Jaehyun? Didnât the date go well?â he asks you purely confused and with guilt, you realize you never told him nor Ana that you bailed.
You bite your lip. âI didnât goâŠâ
Seokjinâs eyes widen comically. âWhat?! Why?! I thought you wanted to!â
You groan rubbing your palm on your face. âI just⊠didnât feel like it anymore! And now heâs here, looking for me and I donât know what to do! Who invited him anyway?â
At that Seokjin has the decency to look guilty. âI may have seen him at the coffee shop and invited him⊠But in my defence I didnât even know you bailed on him!â he looks at you with a scolding glare and another groan leaves your lips.
âOh, shit here he comesâŠâ Seokjin looks carefully behind you and you steal a glance to indeed see Jaehyun stepping into the living room and walking straight towards you.
âOkay, fuck, let me thinkâŠâ you mumble in thought when you see something on the ceiling, hanging just a few centimetres behind Seokjin.
âGot it!â you exclaim, and when Seokjin doesnât follow, you push him back so both of you stand right beneath the thing hanging from the ceiling and then you point at it, knowing heâll catch the drift.
Seokjinâs eyes follow your fingers, only to widen in horror when they rest at what you're pointing at.
Mistletoe.
âNo! No, no, no, Iâm not kissing you so you can get rid of him!â he hisses, eyes swimming in denial and disbelief. But you narrow your eyes at him.
âItâs your fault heâs here! So step the fuck up Kyle!â you hiss back and Seokjin looks less than thrilled.
âDonât quote vines to me, you heathen, I wonât hesitate bitch!â he responds and you know youâre halfway winning him over.
âI canât believe youâve done thisâŠâ you reply, mastering the perfect puppy eyes.
The sound of his favourite vine has him yielding in a matter of seconds, choking back a laugh before he rolls his eyes. âFine. But we gotta hurry up, heâs almost here,â Seokjin relents, eyes falling behind you.
âBuckle up,â is the only thing you say before grasping Seokjinâs panicked face and press your mouths together.
You stay like that for a few seconds, simply pressing your lips together like an awful K-drama kiss though thereâs no romantic music playing in the background. The kiss is at its best⊠underwhelming. Thatâs what you were lusting after all those years? It certainly doesnât live up to the expectations.
You lean back, staring at Seokjin who barely manages to conceal his weirded out face. âIs he gone?â you whisper and Seokjin nods in relief.
âYes, heâs goneâŠâ he mumbles, letting out a breath as you let his face free and take a step back, finally breathing freely.
âDonât ever do that again!â he exclaims, his words followed by a loud gagging noise.
âAnything for you Beyonce!â you say, sharing the sentiment and you grab a random shot glass on the counter, to wash out the feeling of Seokjinâs clumsy mouth on yours.
âWe donât tell anyone. We take this to the grave and live the rest of our lives feeling slightly awkward with each other. Sounds good?â Seokjin states with wide eyes and you laugh at his seriousness.
âAy, ay, captain! Now take a shot with me to erase the memory for good!â you say, filling two glasses with tequila and you hand him one.
âTo forgetting this ever happened!â he raises his shot and you follow his movements before downing the contents of the glass.
âAmen to that.â
.
.
Half an hour later, its time for the countdown so the New Year can officially begin.
The automatic clock on Anaâs TV screen reads 23:59:03 and you rush to gather your friends together in one place, so the New Year can find all five of you together as it has for the last four years.
The rest of the attendees also gather in groups; friends, couples, coworkers, newly made acquaintances but all shimmering with the vibrating delight to welcome the New Year and the opportunities that are bound to come.
Ana and Hoseok are already counting down the numbers - admittedly a bit too early -, and Seokjin passes you four tequila shots to celebrate once the clock strikes midnight. But then heâs left with an extra one and realization strucks you.
âHey, whereâs Jimin? Heâs supposed to be here!â you yell to be heard amidst the loud chattering of the crowd, but your question remains unanswered when Seokjin shrugs his shoulders in loss.
Ana looks around to find said-man but itâs Hoseok that finally puts an end to the mystery. âUh, actually he went home!â
Your eyebrows furrow, confusion apparent in your eyes. Heâs never missed out on this! How could he leave? You always spent New Yearâs together, the five of you, it was your unique tradition, one youâve expected him to keep up with.
Maybe he was feeling a bit under the weather, you try to reason with yourself. Letâs not get mad at him before knowing the whole story.
âWait, so he left without telling anyone? Is he okay? Did he even tell Dinah heâd leave?â you question back, aware of Ana & Seokjinâs wary gazes but you donât bother to acknowledge them.
Thankfully, Hoseok still isnât entirely sober to notice them either and start asking questions.
He just shakes his head at you. âOh, no, they both left. Oh, the countdownâs started!â
As people begin shouting along with the voice on the TV you canât help but stare aimlessly into space.
They both left. Jimin ditched you, all four of you to spend New Yearâs with Dinah. Alone.
And it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
It shouldnât feel as much as a personal attack but it does. He left all four of you but it still feels like he specifically left you behind. As if he doesnât care anymore. Before all that the chance of the two of you ever happening was abysmal. But it was still there, however small. You were fine with that cause at least you knew he valued you as a friend.
Now, youâre not even sure of that anymore.
You should be fine with him leaving. Youâre just his friend.
And yet the heartbreak is overbearing.
Seokjin looks at you carefully as Hoseok keeps counting down to one, entirely unaware of what just happened as Ana counts with him but her eyes are on you.
You give her and Seokjin a weak smile, before averting your eyes quickly to count as well, not bearing to see the looks of pity in their eyes.
You hate this.
The clock strikes midnight.
Youâve never felt more alone.
.
.
The next morning finds you exhausted when you wake up on Seokjinâs couch. Youâre not sure you could handle going back to the apartment and having Dinah and Jimin across the hall from you. Hoseok was going to spend the night at Anaâs, meaning firstly he kinda gave Jimin the pass to run wild and secondly you couldnât crash at Anaâs. Of course, she insisted it was okay but you didnât want to cockblock her on New Yearâs. So Seokjin offered his home as an alternative which you happily accepted.
Youâre dreading to go back to your flat, though already knowing itâs an inevitable curse, you leave a note for Seokjin to find when he wakes up and then you leave his apartment.
On the way home, you wonder if you should trek over to the donut shop around the corner for some heavenly delicacies but then youâd have to buy Jimin and Dinah some. And that is simply something youâre not willing to do.
Hopefully, theyâll be both asleep when you arrive, too tired to be up at 10 am on New Yearâs, so youâll get your chance to quietly slip into your room and avoid everyone for the rest of the week.
Maybe even a month until those stupid feelings finally decide to disappear.
You try your best to be as soundless as possible when you unlock the front door. You enter the living room on your tiptoes, closing the door quietly behind you before moving to throw your coat on the hanger.
The moment you think youâre alone passes by quickly when you hear the door of the fridge being shut and immediately turn around to see Jimin staring at you with bleary eyes. His hair is a mess as heâs clad in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants as his pjs, a cup of what must be steaming coffee on one hand as the other runs through his locks. You find yourself salivating.
âWhere did you go this early in the morning?â his gruff voice comes out, purely confused and before you get to correct him, his eyes fall on your figure. And he realizes youâre still dressed the same as last night.
âDid you just get here?â he asks, his voice a tad too sharp and accusing to be considered friendly and your arms wrap around your middle protectively.
âUh, yeah⊠I crashed at Seokjinâs⊠Too tired to come back after helping Ana clean upâŠâ you joke, forcing a laugh to hopefully ease the sudden tension hanging in the air.
Though your airy laugh doesnât reach Jimin. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall to his right, jaw tense in what seems almost as anger before he takes a quick sip of his coffee and slum the cup on the counter.
âUgh⊠are you okay-?â your confusion is apparent in your voice as Jimin walks off the kitchen, down the hallway.
âIâm going back to sleepâŠâ he mumbles through clenched teeth before he disappears inside his bedroom and closes the door with a loud bang.
You stare weirdly at his door, bewildered by his entire behaviour but youâre still too sleepy to let it get to you. So instead you opt for crawling over to your room and hide beneath the covers.
.
.
The days after New Yearâs turn out weirder and weirder to the point of questioning your mental state.
Seokjin still feels somewhat awkward around you after the kiss but instead of avoiding you, as any normal human being would do, he actively seeks you out, clinging to you and following you around like a shadow, as if the over-exposure will help him get rid of the awkwardness faster.
True to your words, none of you have said anything about it to the others, so you were half waiting for everyone to be immediately weirded out by Seokjinâs sudden display of affection. But apart from Ana that gave you some scarce confused looks, the other two havenât made a single comment, as if this is a completely normal situation. They barely blink when even yourself gets creeped out from Seokjinâs insistent coddling.
Which brings you to the other weird thing happening in the flat.
Jimin barely talks to you anymore.
You donât have the slightest idea why. If you said something, or done something that offended him, youâre none the wiser. And how are you supposed to know when he barely greets you in the morning?
Every time you attempt conversation, thereâs always something he has to do, which sounds completely ironic, given you were the one that kinda did the same before.
Not to cover your own ass but you did that for the sake of your friendship! If Jimin ever finds out youâre into him, you canât bear to think the effect this might have on your friendship.
Whereas Jimin might as well be angry over such a small thing as you using his earbuds.
It wouldnât have bothered you that much if it wasnât for Dinah.
Well, she barely does anything, it's just that Jimin always goes to her when he has the chance. Nights spent with all five of you together munching on popcorn in front of the TV, turn into awkward gatherings as Ana and Hoseok pair up against you and Seokjin, leaving the two of you cringing whenever the couple does something too coupley.
At New Yearâs Eve, he practically admitted he wasnât that much into her anymore and now heâs always with her. Did he lie back then? And if so why?
Everything is wrong and you donât know how to fix it.
If only Jimin hadnât begun dating Dinah, none of this wouldâve happened. You wouldnât have realised you liked him, he wouldnât have spent so much time with her, he wouldnât abandon the four of you for her.
Although, a small part of you screams you wouldâve realised you liked Jimin either way. It wasnât about Dinah.
And yet you canât help the loathing that emerges like bile in your throat when you hear her name.
Or when Jimin, after two weeks of avoiding the rest of you, announces you are to throw a dinner so you can get to know her better.
You feel the headache splitting your skull open.
.
.
Itâs nearly impossible to hide your sour mood once Dinah steps into the apartment.
A switch has flipped and where there was a smile from joking around with Ana, now thereâs a permanent scowl on your face as you refuse to even acknowledge the newcomer, as she greets the rest of your friends.
Once she says hello to you too, you mumble something that resembles a greeting, not even bothering to look at her direction, as Ana regards you with a warning glare.
Deep down you know most of your attitude comes from Jiminâs behaviour these last couple of days, and Dinahâs direct contribution is only at roughly 10%. But youâre stubborn, immature and putting the blame on her seems like an easy way to cope with the situation and the hurricane of feelings swirling in your mind.
No one said itâs the right one. But for now, itâs what keeps you from hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in self-pity. Not that you wonât do that later.
You result in setting the table with Hoseok in silence, not really in the mood to talk, as everyone else sits in the living room and you catch glimpses of their conversation.
Seokjin and Ana talk about a new addition Seokjin wants to put on the menu of his restaurant, while Jimin and Dinah dally on the other side of the room.
You think youâre gonna barf.
âUgh⊠Y/N are you okay?â
You turn around at the voice, surprised to see Hoseok stare at you with confused and worried eyes. Shit, did he sniff out something?
âAh, yes! Why?â you put forward your most cheery voice in the hopes it will throw him off.
ââCause you keep stabbing the meat with the forksâŠâ he comments carefully, leaning a bit backwards as his worry grows, once your confused eyes meet his.
And then you look back to the meat and, surely, all the forks you were supposed to pass around the table are stabbed into the steaks on the centre of the table.
Your eyes widen as you press your lips together in horror. God, why canât you just behave for once?
You rush to remove all the utensils, dumping them into the sink and you pick out new ones, as Hoseok keeps staring at you with a raised eyebrow.
âIâm fine!â you respond with a clipped voice and youâre not sure what Hoseok hears in your voice but he drops it, in favour of placing the napkins around the table. Though you can still feel his weirded-out stare from time to time.
Once the table is set, Hoseok calls for everyone to gather around and one by one flock to their seats.
And as you put the finishing touches, you canât help but hear Jiminâs conversation with Dinah.
âWe have ice cream for dessert, youâre gonna love this one, itâs heavenly!â he says with excitement.
âOh, only if itâs vegan, me and regular milk donât go alongâŠâ she jokes and as Jimin says heâll have someone check, an idea pops into your head. A petty, childish idea but it gives you some purpose for now.
So, sheâs lactose intolerant? It would surely be a shame if she were to eat normal ice cream.
And by âshameâ you mean hilarious.
The little voice in the back of your head berates you for acting so immature but at this moment you desperately need this. You can be salty for one evening.
Whatâs the harm?
.
.
Once everyoneâs plates are empty, the lot of you migrate to the living room, as you stay in the kitchen to get the ice cream out of the freezer.
Jimin told Ana to ask you to check for the ice cream some time ago, -can you believe it, he didnât even ask you! He had to talk to Ana for godâs sake-, and you did. But just as youâd suspected it wasnât vegan.
So your plan is good to go.
You have Seokjin help you carry the bowls of ice cream to the living room and you pass each one around as theyâre expected with excited noises.
Ana almost moans at the delicious flavour and Hoseok chuckles at his girlfriendâs antics as you sit next to Seokjin and dive straight into your own bowl.
During dinner it seemed everyone got along just fine with Dinah, talking and joking together as if sheâs been a part of this group for a long time. And it bothers you even more.
You also recognize her attempts to get close to you as well but really you canât be bothered. It comes to the point where she talked to you and all you did is give her a one-word answer before turning your attention somewhere else.
Though right at this moment your attention is solely on her as she takes a scoop out of her ice cream.
âMmm, itâs really good!â she says excitedly to a smiling Jimin, as she swoops in for another spoon.
But after a few seconds, her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, as she keeps the ice cream in her mouth, looking as if sheâs trying to figure out something. You can barely contain your gloating.
âUhm, this ice cream is vegan right?â she rushes to say, eyes growing just a bit wider with what seems like panic.
Ana turns to look at you and you answer with the most innocent look you can manage, acting like you just realised you didnât.
âOh, oops! I guess I forgot to check, sorry! Why, are you lactose intolerant?â you respond in the first complete sentence youâve given her tonight, internally gloating at her misfortune.
She swallows, her eyes widen even more, traces of fear growing in them. âUgh, no-â
What does she mean no?
âIâm allergic.â
At once every conversation ceases, all eyes resting on her, wide in shock.
Fuck.
Jimin is the first to react.
âWhat?! Shit. Are you okay, should we take you to a hospital?â he asks in panic, placing the ice cream as further away from her as he can while youâre left staring at her in horror.
âWell, since I can feel my tongue thwelling, I thay we thould,â she comments shaking, losing the ability to pronounce the letter âsâ as more time passes.
âOh my god, Iâm so sorry,â you struggle to say, full of remorse, but no one seems to hear you as the situation goes haywire.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasnât supposed to happen!
Seokjin is immediately on his feet. âIâll drive you there, you guys clean up here okay?â he commands urgently and as you feel the guilt overwhelming you, you stand up form your spot in an instant.
âIâll come with!â your voice trembles as you reach for your bag while Jimin and Seokjin help Dinah out of the apartment hurriedly.
But as soon as you speak Jiminâs furious eyes are on you.
âI think youâve done enough.â
And then he slams the door behind them.
Youâre left staring at the piece of wood with trembling eyes, as Ana and Hoseok simply stare at you, Hoseokâs eyes wide in shock as yours while Anaâs are filled with disappointment.
You. Fucking. Idiot.
.
.
Itâs almost four hours later when Jimin and Seokjin return, finding only Hoseok in the living room waiting for them as he asks them how it went.
But Jimin doesnât bother answering him as he instead marches with loud, angry steps towards your room.
On the other side of the door, your nails are nearly non-existent from all the nervous thinking that has plagued your mind for the last few hours. Your texts to both of them asking how Dinah was, were left unanswered and you were left brewing in your own nerves.
Until the door opens and Jimin walks in.
You freeze in your spot once your eyes meet his and see the undecipherable expression on his face.
You only manage to mumble a guilt-ridden âhiâ and he closes the door behind him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath.
Although it seems to not do much.
âWhat the fuck, Y/N?!â
Your answer is immediate, full of regret. âI know, Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorry! Is she okay?â you ask, out of your wits with panic as you wait for him to answer.
He seems too tired, too exhausted as he responds. âThey gave her an antihistamine, sheâll be fine,â he says with a sigh but then his eyes are full of rage as they rest on you again. âBut do you realize what might have happened if we were a bit late?! She could have died!â he yells at you, voice full of unbridled outrage as his eyes grow even more with the passing of time and you feel smaller and smaller.
âIâm sorry!-â you repeat again, feeling incredibly awful with what youâve done, â-I thought she was just lactose intolerant, not allergic!â you say in hopes of redeeming yourself even just a bit but maybe this wasnât the right thing to say as it seems Jiminâs anger only grows.
âThis isnât the fucking point, Y/N!â, you flinch at the volume of his voice, âThe point is you've been trying to sabotage this for weeks! You think I haven't seen the side-glances and the mocking giggles?! I fucking know you donât like her but couldnât you just pretend for my sake? Do you have to go to such lengths to let us all know you hate her?!â he spits at you with wild eyes and you fight the urge to wrap your arms around your frame.
âI didnât poison her on purposeâŠâ you mumble in explanation and your eyes stare at your feet, not daring to look at him, drowning in shame.
âNo, but all the other things were!â he refutes with impatience, but then he sighs. His shoulders fall down but his jawâs still clenched. âWhy canât you just be happy for me? I know what she did better than anyone, believe me, but people are allowed a second chance, and frankly, itâs not your place to decide if she deserves it or not. All I was asking of you was to be decent towards her because I was stupid enough to think youâre my friend above everything and youâd respect my wishes!â he confesses, face crest-fallen and what you once feared, -him looking like this because of you-, has finally come true. You can feel your eyes watering but you can do nothing to stop them.
âI am your friend!â you respond desperately with pleading eyes, trying to stop him from questioning how much he means to you. If only he knew exactly how much.
âAre you really?â, he questions back, âBecause the rest of the guys are my friends too and they donât have a problem with her. Itâs just you! And if you canât accept her and be happy for me thenâŠâ he stops, eyes falling on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze and you have an awful feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.
â...Then weâre better off as just roommates,â he delivers the final blow.
You canât believe your ears. Thereâs no way, no way.
You feel your throat closing up. â...You donât mean thatâŠâ you mumble in denial, eyes blurry and voice almost breaking at the possibility of losing your best friend.
Jimin still refuses to look at you, his lips pursed as he shakes his head. âYeah? And you said youâll support me no matter what so I guess we both said things we donât mean.â
âOr I guess that was just you,â he says in a final tone, eyes serious this time on you before he turns towards your door to leave your bedroom. To leave your life.
You canât breathe.
âJimin-â you manage to stutter out although you feel like choking. You canât lose him, you simply canât.
âNo, Y/N, you canât just-!â he snaps back but stops himself before saying anything else, pressing his lips together.
Then he takes another breath. He collects himself and before you manage to stop him, he closes the door on his way out with a loud bang.
And you canât move. Your eyes simply stare at the door, refusing to let any tear drop and you purse your lips, feeling a mixture of stubbornness and sorrow.
He left. How could he? How could he push you aside for her?! Youâve been friends for a little more than five years now and he ruins your friendship because of her?! Her?!
You rush to lock the door behind him with blurry eyes, putting the blame on him as for now you need this to stay sane.
Tomorrow youâll know that everything was your fault.
But for now, you choose to believe otherwise.
You step back from your door, crossing your arms on your chest in defiance.
âIf he doesnât want to be friends then we wonât be!â you exclaim in an attempt to salvage your broken ego but once those words are out of your mouth, once they finally feel real, you canât stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.
You have to cover your mouth to drown the sound of your sobs.
You canât let him hear.
At that moment thereâs a knock on your door, before âY/N? Itâs Seokjin, can I come in?â
His voice is quiet, calm, reminding you that he and Hoseok probably heard everything. You canât deal with it. You canât deal with any of it.
âGo away, SeokjinâŠâ you mumble with a low voice in order to hide the fact youâre crying.
You hear him sighing. âCome one, at least talk to me-â
âGo away!â your voice is coarse as you yell back, for a second not realising it was you. You know you're gonna regret yelling at him later, but you just want to be alone.
Thereâs silence on the other side. Then the echoing steps of someone leaving.
And then you break down in the middle of your room.
Alone.
The only sound coming from your quiet sobs.
.
.
{Jiminâs POV}
Keep it together. Donât lose focus now just because she looks like sheâs about to cry.
Itâs easier said than done, but Jimin manages to remain focused on what he came here to do. Even if itâs just barely.
He canât go on like this. Maybe if you were happy for him and actually supported him, things would be different. But when you act like a spoiled baby that didnât get her wish with no excuse whatsoever when you were supposed to be okay with Dinah⊠thereâs not much he can do.
Not when your behaviour acts as a false beacon of hope. One he canât afford to see. Otherwise, he might do something he canât take back.
Heâs got to be firm and decisive.
So he turns around to leave before he takes it all back.
âJimin-â he hears the breaking in your voice, knowing how much this may weigh you down but all he can feel right now is unfairness. Itâs unfair how he wants to move on but with one single word he finds his resolve crumbling.
You shouldnât affect him this much.
âNo, Y/N, you canât just-!â he begins but stops himself. What was he about to say? Something he shouldnât, probably.
Still, you stop talking. And you just stare at him, with disbelief written in your eyes. He avoids those in favour of staying true to his words.
Thereâs no saying what heâll do if he meets them.
So, he simply leaves your bedroom.
Marching through the small distance between your door and his, he can see Hoseok and Seokjin, from the corner of his eyes, staring.
They probably heard everything.
He steps into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, needing some space. To calm down, to take a breath, to finally think about what he just did.
You looked like you were ready to break down at any moment.
Maybe he shouldnât have been that harsh with you. Maybe he was a bit too hasty, too vengeful in making that decision.
Someone knocks on his door.
What if itâs you?
His steps canât take him to his door any faster.
But itâs just Hoseok.
â... what?â he hears himself get defensive once he sees your door still closed shut behind the other man.
Hoseok stares at him with understanding. âIt doesnât have to be like that, JiminâŠâ he comments with a soft voice, always knowing how to approach Jimin when heâs angry, better than anyone.
Jimin sighs, still feeling stubborn but he knows by the end of what Hoseok has to say, heâll almost certainly listen.
â... Letâs talk about it okay? Iâm sure Y/N wants that tooâŠâ at those words Jimin swears he feels a small pinch of pain on his chest. He wishes theyâre true.
âSeokjin is also gonna talk to herâŠâ
But those words manage to bring his stubbornness back full force.
Thereâs a chuckle coming out of Jimin but none of it sounds happy.
âOf course he willâŠâ he snaps at Hoseok, who bites his lip once he realises his mistake. âYeah, Hoseok, I think Iâll pass,â the bitterness is evident in his words, not bothering to hide it from the one person that knows the cause of it.
Hoseokâs eyes widen once he realises Jimin is about to close the door on him. âWait, Jimin, donât-â
âGoodnight,â is what Jimin simply says before closing the door on his best friend.
.
.
He canât be sure when everything began to change. He canât place a finger on the exact moment his feelings had changed.
On the exact moment, he fell in love with you.
Was it the moment you walked through the door as a roommate applicant? He canât be sure. But somewhere along the way, the feelings bloomed, outgrew everything he ever felt for anyone.
He just was a bit late at realizing it.
When he woke up after you slept together and his eyes rested on you as you slept, he felt a pain in the middle of his chest. But it didnât feel like a regular pain, it felt like his heart was expanding like he was experiencing growing pains. Because while he stared at you, he realised there was nothing else heâd rather do. You looked so serene, so at peace sleeping next to him, he never wanted the moment to end.
And thatâs how he realised.
Of course, he had to push his newly-found knowledge aside when he saw you nearly going into panic mode. Just because he felt like this, didnât mean you did too.
So he hid those feelings, playing it cool for the sake of being your friend.
But this shit was difficult when he was surrounded by you twenty-four-seven.
Right before Seokjinâs birthday he had sworn heâd finally tell you. He thought that maybe, just maybe youâd like him back, or at least heâd get to have a weight lifted off his chest.
But then he saw you hugging SeokjinâŠ
He wasnât trying to spy on you or anything. He was just trying to reach the bathroom when he saw you wrapping your arms around Seokjin. Around the guy you had a crush on for the past few years. It was like a stab to his stomach, even more so when he knew you werenât really into hugs and when you did hug someone, it usually meant a lot to you.
Jimin couldnât believe his eyes. He also couldnât believe how much it hurt and how much he needed something to distract himself.
Or, rather, someone.
Thatâs how Dina came along.
He never intended to string her along this far though. At that night she was just a distraction, someone familiar who knew how to take care of him, despite everything that had transpired between them in the past.
But Dinah kept trying, kept fighting vigorously for that second chance and he couldnât help but acknowledge how much sheâd changed over the past year. So he let her back into his life, hoping that at least sheâd help him forget about you.
And it worked for some time. Until that night.
Until the night you were supposed to go on a date with Seokjin and cancelled it because of him - heâs sure of it even if you vehemently denied it back then-. The night you were dressed on that tight, little, black dress, the one that reminded him of that night eight months ago and suddenly his mind was going haywire with thoughts, or rather, memories of you.
He swears he saw hunger in your eyes when his palm was on your thigh, scorching both of you at the connected spot and if it wasnât for Hoseokâs interruption, he was sure heâdâve lost control.
Jimin hates to admit it but that night he kept thinking of you, of your eyes, of your lips, of the way your thighs had fit around his waist back then, of the sound of his name falling from your lips as he touched himself, trying to drown his moans onto his pillow.
He couldnât talk to you after that for a couple of days. Too ashamed, too embarrassed, too enamoured with you, he thought youâd be able to see right through him.
But once things got back to normal, they were ruined once more.
Dinah appeared at the worst of times at New Yearâs. He was so close to letting you know how he feels, encouraged by your reaction when you ditched your date for him, which was another green light for him at the moment. But Dinah showed up and you were out of there before he even got a chance to explain.
Hoseok had found him then, drinking away his sorrows.
âAnd the worst of all is, sheâs dating Seokjin, which I now realise makes me a big jerk and an awful friend as I keep trying to steal away his girlfriend,â Jimin mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.
Hoseok seemed perplexed but that might have been from the near-alcohol-poisoning he just had before Dr. Ana ânursedâ him back to health. âAnd remind me, how are you sure sheâs dating Seokjin? They havenât told us anything yetâŠâ
Jimin stared into his drink, already sort of tipsy on alcohol and self-pity. âSaw âem hugginâ...â he mumbled behind the glass. Hoseok had to do a double-take at that.
âWhat?â Hoseok responded in disbelief. âThatâs it? Dude, I do that with Seokjin all the time, that doesnât mean Iâm dating him!â
Jimin sighed in annoyance. âIt was more than that okay? There was this feeling to it! I could tell it wasnât just a simple hug!â Jimin groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand.
Hoseok rolled his eyes at his friend. âStill you can never be sure by just a hug! Have you talked to her?â
âNo, I tried to but Dinah came in and she left as soon as she saw herâŠâ Jimin admitted and Hoseok almost laughed out loud at his friendâs idiocy.
âBro, if that isnât a sign to talk to her, then Iâm not dating the most bomb person in the whole ass world.â
Jimin wasnât impressed as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend.
Hoseok wasnât deterred. âI can see you have an objection here and itâs a complete disgrace to Anaâs name, so Imma pound you to logic city later, you limp dick, but right now you need to talk to Y/N!â he concluded as he shoved Jimin out of his stool.
Jimin groaned as he stood up, but as his eyes fell to the bottom of his drink, he realised Hoseok was right. He shouldâve talked to you first. Maybe he had misunderstood and there was nothing going on with Seokjin.
And right then as he saw you bumping into Seokjin, he figured it was a great opportunity to find out what was happening between the two of you from both parties involved.
But as his steps got him closer and closer, he saw you kiss him.
He froze. He couldnât look, couldnât bear, but still, his eyes stayed glued to the both of you as your arms circled around his neck to press him closer.
Jimin felt like vomiting.
He turned around right then and there and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He gave Dinah a half-assed apology as he also sent her on her merry way and he left for his apartment. He couldnât even tell Hoseok why he was leaving the party, only announcing his departure and disappearing.
It was the first time in years he spent New Yearâs alone.
He hated it.
.
.
{Y/Nâs POV}
Youâve done the worst sleep in ages.
You rub your eyes, immediately regretting it when the slightest touch has them stinging from how swollen they are from all the crying.
Right. It wasnât just a dream.
You drag your feet begrudgingly across the floor to the bathroom to splurge some water on your face, in a futile attempt to calm down your puffy eyes. Before youâre off to the kitchen where Hoseok is currently eating his breakfast cereal.
Once he hears the sound of footsteps, he raises his head, only to see you awkwardly walk in the kitchen, eyes downcast as you go for the fridge.
âHey,â you hear him say.
With your face facing the inside of the fridge you take a breath, letting the low temperature calm you down.
You knew it was coming. Hoseok definitely listened to everything along with Seokjin. And yet you donât feel like replying.
Nonetheless, you turn around and acknowledge him with a tilt of your head as you move to have the coffee machine working.
âSo⊠How you feeling?â
The question prompts a humourless chuckle out of you and Hoseok sighs in response.
âI know, thatâs a lousy question. I justâŠâ he takes a breath, eyes gentle on you, not at all judgemental as youâd expect them, after what youâve done yesterday, âI mean I know Jiminâs side of the story, but I never heard yoursâŠâ he concludes, letting a soft smile take over his features.
Huh. Your side of the story.
You swallow the lump in your throat, but the words donât come out. Instead, you resolve to looking down at the floor as your hands grab tightly at your empty cup.
Hoseok, sensing your hesitation, sighs resigned but he doesnât push you on it.
A moment passes when both of you remain silent until your coffee is ready. You pour the liquid into your cup, almost moaning in relief you donât have to stay here another second.
But before you get to leave Hoseok speaks up again.
âI know things may look like a mess right now but Iâm sure this wonât be the case forever. Jimin⊠yeah, heâs mad but you're his best friend. Heâs gonna change his mind soonâŠâ Hoseokâs gentle words reach you and, oh god, how do you want to believe them.
You turn to look at him and see the hope written in his eyes.
You give him what might have resembled a smile if you werenât feeling so beat-down.
âYou didnât see the way he looked at me HobiâŠâ you whisper and Hoseokâs face falls just a bit at how broken you sound.
âThings will change, Iâm certain of it,â still he replies, eyes full of determination that make the slightest sliver of hope go through the cracks of your sorrow.
Right then another pair of footsteps echoes as Jimin walks into the kitchen.
His sudden arrival has you both freeze, eyes resting on the newcomer and while Hoseok keeps on looking at Jimin, youâre quick to avert your gaze, the lump in your throat growing.
A second passes where Jimin doesnât move forward or backwards. Like he isnât sure if you could be in the same room anymore after yesterday's events. Your heart pangs at the thought.
He coughs awkwardly.
âI didnât know you were awake, I can come back later-â he begins softly, eyes avoiding yours as well, making the pain grow a little sharper.
âNo, itâs okay, I was done anywayâŠâ you interrupt him, hands gripping tightly at your steaming cup as if it is a life board.
And without another word, youâre out of the kitchen.
.
.
{Hoseokâs POV}
A week passes by and it seems thereâs no hope for reconciliation on the horizon.
Both of you went the extra miles and rearranged your schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. Jimin spends nearly every night at Dinahâs, barely seeing the others and you spend days locked into your room under the pretence of writing, but really youâre just avoiding everyone.
The rest of the guys donât know what to do anymore.
Itâs a Friday afternoon when Hoseok is over at Anaâs place, the mood in his apartment too heavy to bear and he canât bear this anymore.
âBabe, Iâm back, they didnât have any vinegar chips so I bought oregano instead. Can you imagine the disgrace?â he shouts as soon as he steps back into the apartment, after a small walk to the seven eleven down the street.
But instead of hearing his girlfriendâs welcoming back, he hears her sigh. Then he sees her walk around the corner from the kitchen with her phone pressed to her ear like sheâs in a conference call.
âI still donât understand why wonât you just tell him!â Ana speaks on the phone, sending a tired wave to her boyfriend who looks at her entirely confused.
Hoseok just takes his shoes off and plops himself on the couch, sensing Ana wonât be done with that phone call anytime soon.
Thereâs a silence from her side as she listens intently to what the other person is saying. Hoseok decides to open the bag of chips just to keep his hands occupied.
After a while, Ana talks again.
âBut what if she doesnât tell him?â she? First, she mentioned a âhimâ and now a âsheâ? Hoseokâs getting more confused by the second.
âAnd what about Jimin then? Doesnât he deserve to know the truth?â her voice is stern, like a mother berating her child and a sound of understanding leaves Hoseokâs lips, as he concludes Ana is talking to you.
Thereâs a small silence from your side, indicating no response to Anaâs question and so she keeps talking.
âAnd Iâm talking about the whole truth Y/N.â
Hoseokâs intrigued. What whole truth?
âI know I was the first person to be against telling him about your feelings but with how poorly you handled the situation, I donât think you can possibly make anything worse!â
At that, Hoseokâs eyes blow wide open. Feelings?! What feelings?!Â
Heâs immediately up, approaching Ana with quick steps as she listens to your response. Your voice, even though muffled through the phone, sounds weaker, sadder. Disheartened.
Anaâs words are softer now. âBut youâll never be able to do this. Youâll never be ready but, the truth is, no one ever is. Thatâs kinda how it goes and thatâs okay. But you gotta do it at some point, sooner or later,â she talks to you calmly, Hoseok sensing her sorrow at hearing you like this.
But he canât shake the feeling that he can somehow help if he finds out what those feelings are.
Ana sighs tiredly as if what she just said didnât have much of an impact. âY/N-â but before she gets to respond you hang up.
Ana gasps while staring at her phone. âShe just hung up on me, I canât believe it, how dare?â she says to no one in particular as she rubs her hands on her face tiredly.
âTough luck?â Hoseok comments wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana welcomes the embrace, her hands winding around his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder.
âShe just wonât listen! Sheâs so infuriatingly stubborn and itâs driving me nuts!â she blows a stray hair out of her face, accidentally tickling Hoseokâs skin in the process and he chuckles.
âKinda like you then?â he teases as he finally pushes that stray lock behind her ear and she pokes out her tongue at him in retaliation before falling into peaceful tranquillity.
Hoseok hates to disrupt this but he has to ask her what all of those things meant. For the sake of Jimin.
âHey, babeâŠâ he begins and Ana hums in acknowledgement.
âWhen you talked about Y/Nâs feelingsâŠâ he feels her stiffen in his embrace but nonetheless he carries on, â... what did you mean?â
Ana takes a breath. âI guess thereâs no point in not telling you nowâŠâ she speaks softly before taking another breath, one Hoseok holds until he hears her answer.
âY/N⊠she likes Jimin. Well I mean thatâs what she says anyway. I think itâs way more than thatâŠâ Ana admits sadly but Hoseokâs mind goes into overdrive.
âAre you seriousâŠ?â he asks in what can be perceived as a calm demeanour but in reality, his head is about to explode.
Ana chuckles calmly, still in Hoseokâs embrace. âI know right?â
Oh my god, theyâre both idiots, he thinks. But he has to do something now.
âOh god, those giant baboons!â he almost yells, making Ana flinch and take a step back to look at him perplexed.
âHoseokâŠ?â
He laughs incredulously as he takes a step back, trying to process the situation.
âFor how long?â he asks and Ana looks more weirded out by the second.
âTwo months, give or take?â Ana responds with narrowed eyes.
Hoseok chuckles. âThatâsâŠâ when Jimin started going out with Dinah, of course, it all makes sense!
âSeriously our friends are the worst idiots ever!â he complains once more.
âOkay, now do you mind telling me whatâs going on?â she retaliates, getting irritated with her boyfriend and his tendency of not explaining anything for the dramatics.
âJimin likes her back!â he shouts out loud, the magnificence of what he found out too overwhelming to bear.
Anaâs eyes widen. âWhat? How can that be? What about Dinah?â
Hoseok narrows his eyes at her. âHe began dating her again after that one night stand that only happened because he saw Y/N hugging Seokj- Wait! What about Seokjin?â
Ana seems confused. âWhat about Seokjin?â
âIsnât Y/N dating him?â
Ana almost bursts out in giggles. âWhat? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?â
âCause of the hug!â
âSo what, a simple hug means automatically theyâre dating each other?â
âWell, we all know Y/N hates hugs, plus she had a crush on him so it would be believable- Wait, thatâs not the point. So Y/N isnât dating Seokjin?â
âNope. Never did,â Ana concludes as both of them fall into the same realization.
âSo Jimin did all that stuffâŠâ Ana begins, not quite believing the absurdity of the situation.
â...Because he thought Seokjin was dating Y/N,â Hoseok admits tiredly.
âWe gotta tell Jimin,â Ana grabs her phone to punch in his number before Hoseok stops her.
âWaitâŠâ he stares at the phone, the cogs in his mind whirling before his eyes light up.
âI got a better idea.â
.
.
{Jiminâs POV}
Sweat still drips down his forehead as Jimin bids goodbye to his students, after the end of his contemporary class. He reaches for his water bottle and heads for the teachersâ lounge where his stuff is before he gets to his last class.
He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before pressing the now lukewarm bottle on the nape of his neck, to get some sort of relief.
Once again, his focus wasnât entirely on the class. It has been like that ever since your fight, but at least it started getting better as time passed. Still not at its best though.
He finds himself feeling guilty more than he thought he would. Guilty towards you, towards Dinah. Itâs a mess.
Admittedly, he was really mad at you but as he got to think it over, he realised he acted too rashly in cutting you off. And he misses you already.
But the thing is⊠you haven't made a move to reconcile either. That could be because youâre afraid of him pushing you away again. But shouldn't you make the first step? If you did, Jimin is sure he would forgive you on the spot.
He shakes his head tiredly as he enters the teachersâ lounge and reaches for his backpack. Everythingâs a mess.
And then thereâs Dinah. Dinah whoâs changed, whoâs kind and understanding. Dinah who he strings along and whoâs possibly already aware of Jiminâs use of her as a distraction. They both know that, even though Dinahâs changed and everythingâs seemingly fine, the relationship is doomed this time around as well.
Although this time itâs Jiminâs fault.
He needs to come clean to her. He has to end this.
Right then his phone begins ringing.
Once he sees the contact name, heâs a little less willing to answer it.
âWhat do you want?â is his response once he picks up and thereâs an awkward chuckle at the other end before the caller finally replies.
âWhoa, okay, forward, canât you buy me a drink first, champ?â Seokjin tries to make the tension disappear unsuccessfully, resulting in Jimin not even answering that particular quip.
He hears Seokjin sigh on the other side, before âAnyway, canât I just call my friend to see how heâs doing? Itâs been a while since the last time we talkedâŠâ the other man admits cautiously and Jiminâs defensiveness slowly ebbs away to give place to additional guilt. Heâs the one blowing off all his friends because he wants space. Or more precisely, he thinks, because heâs a coward, too afraid to really deal with the situation, so instead picking the easy way out, at the expense of his friends.
He rubs his face with his hands, before letting out a breath. âYeah, I know, things have been kind ofâŠâ Jimin trails off but Seokjin hums, as if he understands what Jimin means without him having to say it out loud.
âYeahâŠâ Seokjin agrees quietly and Jimin feels more horrible as time goes by. When did he begin to feel such animosity towards his friend? They used to be really close ever since they worked together at the same shift, and now Jimin can barely be in the same room as him. Itâs not Seokjinâs fault in any way and the truth is Jiminâs animosity arises not towards Seokjin but more towards himself.
He has stuff he needs to work on.
âActually, thatâs what I wanted to talk to you aboutâŠâ comes Seokjinâs response that has Jimin sitting up straight in his seat, terrified of what his friend wants to talk to him about.
And it seems his fears were not unjustified.
âHow long have you liked Y/N?â
There it is.
Jimin takes a breath, panic trying to take over him but he wills it to go away and answer his friend. Even if heâs terrified to do so.
âIâŠâ he begins, audible shakiness colouring his voice, â... how do you know?â
Seokjin doesnât hesitate to answer. âHoseok told meâŠâ
Jimin takes another breath, one full of guilt.
âLook, I⊠Iâm sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did! And I know itâs awful of me to have done this but, yeah, for some time I had thought of acting on it. But now that I know for certain youâre together, I wouldnât even dream of-â
âFirst of all, Y/N and I are not together.â Seokjin interrupts the babbling idiot and Jimin stops mid-sentence.
He blinks, uncertain. âI⊠what?â
Seokjin sighs with a chuckle. âY/N and I arenât dating,â he repeats.
Jimin opens his mouth like a fish, in complete and utter shock. âBut⊠but I saw youâŠâ he states full of doubt, almost like a question.
He can almost hear Seokjin raising his eyebrow. âYou saw us doing what?â
The lump in his throat doesnât make this any easier. âI saw you kissing a-a-aand-and hugging!â he retaliates, trying to support his reasoning.
Seokjin sighs once more, the gesture coming off him naturally by now. âOkay, she kissed me because she wanted to avoid a dude she ghosted, I had little to no say in this!â Seokjin responds in a typical Seokjin fashion.
But Jimin has more questions. âA dude she ghosted?â
âYeah, she was supposed to go on a date with this guy in my restaurant but blew him off for some reasonâŠâ
Wait.
âWhen was this?â Jimin asks, eager but nervous to find out the answer.
âA couple of days before Christmas.â
So that wasnât a date with Seokjin but just a rando?
God, Jimin has fucked up big time.
âAnd what about the hug?â he asks for the last time, to make sure he resolves any misunderstanding.
âWhat hug? Oh, you mean on my birthday? Dude, that was just her coming clean about her past crush on me and us moving past this like a couple of adults.â
Jiminâs throat constricts uncomfortably but in unbelievable hope. âPast crush?â
Seokjinâs smile is nearly audible. âYeah, âpastâ. Know why? Because she has feelings for someone else.â
And just as easily as Seokjin has given him hope, he just as easily rips it away.
âOhâŠ?â Jimin barely manages to utter, voice almost breaking alongside his heart. âWho?â
Seokjin groans on the other side, taking Jimin wholly by surprise by the irritated tone in the older manâs voice. âOh my god, you really are both idiots,â he says almost to himself, âYou, you soggy tit! Do you really think she did all that to Dinah simply because she didnât like her? No, she was fucking jealous!â Seokjin concludes, voice rushed and angry to berate his friend and finally put an end to this huge mess.
But Jimin hears only one word.
You.
She has feelings for you.
The girl heâs been in love with for nearly a year now, if not more, has feelings for him. Reciprocated feelings.
Is this real? Is this a fucking dream from which heâll wake up in the morning, feeling shittier than ever?
But Seokjin said she was jealous. Jealous.
âShe- She was? Seokjin, justâŠâ he stops himself to take a calming breath, refusing to believe this just yet, âPlease, donât joke about this, Iâm not gonna laugh,â he warns his friend. He canât bear to have his heart messed with any more than it already has been.
âDoes it sound like Iâm joking? Believe me, I wouldnât, weâre all too invested in your shit, itâs not healthy.â
Jimin canât believe this. He wants to, desperately, but what if itâs not real? What then?
âIâŠâ he swallows his nerves, âShe really has feelings for me?â he asks, not unlike a hopeful child. God, his heart is about to burst.
âYeah, buddy, I know itâs hard to believe when I exist!â Seokjin tries to lighten up the mood with a joke.
Jimin doesnât laugh.
â...Too soon? Sorry, anyway, I thought you should also know Y/N really feels awful for everything and if thereâs one thing that can confirm that, is the fact she apologized to Dinah,â Seokjin concludes carefully.
Jimin doesnât know how to respond.
âBut if you donât believe me⊠Ask Y/N herself.â
But he knows what to do.
.
.
{Y/Nâs POV}
Youâre washing the dishes, alone at home for another hour at the very least as Jiminâs classes end in one hour.
Should you go to Anaâs? Ugh, but Hoseok is there.
Maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room for the scarce time Jimin will be here before heâs off to Dinahâs.
Which reminds you of earlier today.
In Dinahâs defence, she handled your apology quite gracefully, in contrast with you. You were a babbling mess, trying to put your thoughts into place and at first, she was suspicious of you, but once your visit made sense, she seemed to understand. Something even you couldnât at times.
She accepted your apology with a calm smile, confusing you even more as she said she appreciated your effort to put all of this behind you.
You were glad she seemed to not hold it against you although, honestly⊠you donât think you deserve it.
You have no idea if sheâs planning on telling Jimin or not and quite frankly youâre terrified of what heâll say if he finds out.
Once youâre done with the dishes and close the tap, you hear the front door open and close, assuming itâs Hoseok back from Anaâs.
âHobi, is that you?â you ask before turning around, only to almost choke on your own breath when you see Jimin instead.
Heâs standing just in front of the door, not going forwards or backwards, as his eyes stare at you. Serious, careful but calm. No anger residing in them. Just awkwardness as he seems to not know what to do with himself, as he simply rests in place and somehow a tiny drop of hope begins to bloom.
âI⊠Donât you have classes?â is the first thing you manage to get out of your mouth and he takes a breath.
âI had to get out earlyâŠâ he responds and you canât help but focus on the âhad toâ. Did Dinah talk to him after all?
â...Why?â is your careful question, when in reality your mind is in a state of disarray. Is this a good sign? A bad one? Is he here to restore your friendship to what it used to be or finally cut ties with you and move out?
Your mind is gonna short-circuit.
âIâŠâ he begins, eyes falling to the floor. Then he takes another breath. âI had to talk to you,â he says.
Oh god. This is it. Youâre done.
Your throat closes up as you blink quickly trying to stop your eyes from welling up. Damnit, you already cried so much about this, you shouldnât have any more tears left!
He takes a tentative step forward, eyes finding yours once again. But they look⊠soft, tender. Apologetic.
âI⊠Iâm sorry. For the way I acted,â he breathes out and your eyes widen, having to do a double-take to make sure you heard right. âI was too harsh on you, basically taking out my nerves on you and even though what you did was awful, I shouldnât have taken such drastic measures. I took it too far by saying we shouldnât be friends and Iâd like to take it back if you want toâŠâ he concludes, observing you cautiously.
Youâre left staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Is he serious? Did he just apologize to you like he was the one at fault?
âJimin, oh my god, you shouldnât have to apologize, I should!â you rush to say, instinctively grabbing his hands to soothe him, completely missing the taken aback turned loving look in his eyes.
âI acted way out of line and truth be told I think I needed that as a wake-up call. You were right, what kind of friend am I if I donât try to get along with the girl youâre dating?â you continue, too self-conscious to be able to look Jimin in the eye, instead staring at your joined hands with a new kind joy.
You got your best friend back. And if keeping him means you have to bury your feelings for him, then youâll do it. For real this time. Whatever it takes to not lose him again.
Jimin chuckles in response. âUsed to date,â he corrects you.
This time though you canât help it when your eyes snap back at him. âWhat? What do you mean?â
Where you expected to be a sorrowful expression, there is none. Instead, Jimin is looking at you with a soft smile, a serene one, one that matches the peace in his eyes. âWe broke up,â he says and you canât find the proper words to react to this.
âOh⊠H-how so?â you say instead, unwillingly holding your breath.
Jiminâs eyes rest on your face for a moment, that damned smile still gracing his lips, before his eyes fall to your hands. âI guess you helped me realise some things with what you did,â is his cryptic response.
But before you get to question his answer his eyes turn stern, with a note of mischief hiding in their corners. âThat does not mean what you did was okay, though,â he says, pointing his finger at you like a teacher disciplining a child and you chuckle at his attempt of lightening up the mood.
âBelieve me, I know. I donât think Iâll ever be able to forgive myselfâŠâ you respond, rubbing a hand awkwardly at the base of your neck, still awfully aware of your other hand still connected to Jiminâs.
âWellâŠâ he says quietly, his eyes on your joined hands, âGood thing I did thenâŠâ he mutters, his thumb running over the back of your palm soothingly and once your eyes meet his, you know youâll be okay.
.
.
After that talk with Jimin, -that ended with the both of you watching Space Jam and cuddling to sleep-, everything is once again back to normal. The past week has been amazing compared to the one before it. You find yourself smiling all the time as your friendship with Jimin is back to its prime, laughter and joy returning to your shared apartment.
Your group returns back to its routine, hanging out together in front of the TV, roasting Hoseok for his abundant sexual energy, you know, the usual.
And yet you feel like somethingâs changed. More particularly, with Jimin.
You catch his eyes on you more than once, more than what could be considered normal but ever since you made up the two of you havenât been left alone once. The guys are always around and, really, itâs not like you donât want them to be but thereâs always something hanging from Jiminâs mouth, something he wants to say but never does due to their presence. Itâs slightly unnerving, reminding you of that night outside your bedrooms when he wanted to say something but didn't.
You canât tell if itâs good or bad. All you know is suddenly your knees shake when he looks at you for too long and you have goosebumps whenever his skin touches yours.
So thatâs why tonight you chose to sit on the lone armchair as he sits next to Hoseok on the big couch and Ana is placed next to Seokjin on the small one.
Somehow the conversation managed to go on that New Yearâs party and Seokjin ended up spilling about your kiss.
âYou said âwe take this to the graveâ!â you respond with a low voice, trying to mimic him unsuccessfully as Ana and Hoseok stare at you with eyes wide as saucers. Jimin, for some reason, looks unresponsive to the news yet he laughs at your bad impression of Seokjin.
Seokjin at least has the decency to look guilty as Anaâs scandalized eyes turn to you. âYou kissed?!â
You raise your hands in defence, for some reason avoiding to look over at Jimin. âI didnât do it on purpose! Well⊠I kinda did but not with the motive youâd assume,â you rush to explain, though Ana is less than satisfied.
âOh then with what motive? Please amuse me, hoe,â she responds, crossing her hands on her chest and you huff out in annoyance.
Seokjin answers her. âWell, obviously, she wanted a piece of all that. Iâm pretty irresistible to all humankind,â he jokes lightly and you suppress a snort.
âYeah, no, this ainât it, chief,â you rush to say, suddenly nervous, not wanting anyone to think youâre still into Seokjin.
Actually, replace âanyoneâ with just âJiminâ.
Seokjin gasps in offence. âWhat in the world do you even mean?! Youâre lucky I kissed you and not just because you got rid of that dude! Iâm a pretty good kisser, no scratch that, Iâm an excellent kisser, a connoisseur of kissing if you will!â
âI think I wonât be able to kiss anyone after thatâŠâ Hoseok responds which makes Seokjin gasp once more before he looks over at you.
âY/N, tell them the truth. How my kissing is so utterly magnificent, it could end world hunger!â he says before actually hearing what he just said then deciding against it, âNope, canât do that, sorry, thatâs on me.â
You chuckle at his antics, although a bit reluctant to actually reveal the truth.
âActuallyâŠâ you start.
Another gasp resonates. âDonât âactuallyâ me! Just tell them!â
You turn to the other guys with a roll of your eyes.
âLook, itâs not like you were a bad kisser per se. Itâs just that it was a bit⊠lackluster?â you finish, almost afraid to see Seokjinâs reaction to the reveal.
Jimin suppresses a chuckle, Hoseok oohs from the side and Anaâs eyes widen in surprise.
Seokjin looks at you with disbelief.
âLackluster?â
You rush to make amends. âI mean itâs okay given I took you by surprise, but due to that crush I used to have on you, I had this notion of a kiss full of passion. And that one just⊠didnât have it.âÂ
Seokjin pouts angrily at you before crossing his arms on his chest as Ana pats his shoulder soothingly. âI canât believe you just said my kiss didnât have any passion.â
You shrug. âWell, it didnât,â you say as a matter of a fact before Ana jumps into the conversation.
âItâs probably a good thing your kiss didnât have any passion, it just means your friends. No chemistry there so donât beat yourself up too much, champ,â she says with an affectionate pinch on Seokjinâs cheek, who ponders on her input.
âYeah, Ana is right!â you rush to agree. âItâs because weâre just friends! When you find someone you really like, believe me, itâll be nothing like that,â you go off track a bit as certain memories reappear. âItâll be full of passion and yearning and not getting enough of each other, youâre not sure if you can go on without kissing them!â
And somehow by the end of that, your eyes fall on Jiminâs and stay there.
Because he stares back.
âOkay, I think we heard enough about Seokjinâs kissing techniques,â Ana comments, breaking the spell and your eyes fall to your lap, fire residing in your cheeks.
âI just have one last comment on what I think Seokjin couldâve used but didnât cause heâs a wuss,â Hoseok jumps in.
âTongue.â
A round of gagging noises is heard around the apartment.
.
.
The hours pass by smoothly and soon everyoneâs getting sleepy. Seokjin leaves early, having to go to the restaurant first thing in the morning, leaving the rest of you to clean up.
Once again Jimin picks up the trash with Ana as Hoseok helps you do the dishes. The apartment falls into a comfortable silence with the occasional chatter between the four of you while you clean up. Hoseok is to sleepover at Anaâs so when youâre all done the couple bids you goodbye, heading to Anaâs apartment.
Leaving you and Jimin totally alone.
Which is something that shouldnât scare you but for some reason your nerves are going through the roof.
âAre you done with the kitchen?â Jimin asks from the living room, where heâs rearranging the pillows on the couch.
âYeap! Just finished!â you call back, your voice a bit higher than usual and you cringe internally before clearing your throat.
âGood, Iâm going to bed then,â he responds as you walk out of the kitchen.
âIâll walk with you,â you respond with a smile, following him into the corridor.
You walk in comfortable silence, but still, you find yourself getting nervous as you walk side by side. It doesnât make any sense.
Once you reach your bedrooms, both of you turn around to face each other, seemingly unwilling to depart just yet. Jimin looks at you with a soft smile as you grab at the opportunity to talk to him.
âJimin, I just⊠Iâm really happy we got past that and again Iâm sorry for the trouble Iâve caused,â you say in what seems like the hundredth apology this week.
Jiminâs smile grows fonder as he shakes his head gently. âI told you, you should stop apologizing, Iâm no longer mad at you,â is his quiet reply as he tilts his head, his eyes staring at you in a way it makes your heart race.
âI know I just⊠That week we spent not talking to each other was the worst week of my life and IâŠâ you pause searching for the right words, but no words could ever describe the magnificence of what youâre feeling right now, the desperation of wanting to have him in your life. So you simply stare at him, out of breath, hoping he gets it.
His smile is one of the best things youâve ever seen and you know he does.
You smile back. âAnyway, Iâve gotten too sentimentalâŠâ you chuckle, clearing your voice to sound more collected.
Jimin giggles softly. âHappens to the best of usâŠâ he responds gently and you have to remind yourself to not stare. Even if he does and it makes you feel out of breath.
You nod with a smile. âWellâŠâ you respond nervously, yearning for the moment youâre alone in your room, free of all this tension. âGoodnight,â you say simply, turning around to get to your door.
But a hand wraps itself around your wrist, turning you around suddenly. Your hands naturally fall to Jiminâs chest as his palms wrap around your waist and hair as his lips fall fervently on yours.
Your mind goes into overdrive and you can only kiss him back.
His plump lips wrap around your own softly but with an intense sense of urgency, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your hands are quick into grabbing his shirt to pull him unbelievably closer. You respond with just as much hunger, letting your mouth move fervently against his own, pushing more and more against him, aiding his hand thatâs tangled in your hair, gripping the locks as if he canât get enough. Then both of his palms are on the small of your back, holding you close as if fearing youâll leave. But you never do and that makes him press more against you until your back hits the wall next to your door.
The impact makes Jimin lean back just enough to stop the kiss, but his eyes still remain glued to the image of your swollen lips, as you almost lean after his own.
Your heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise quiet corridor, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his open shirt as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened.
âDid you mean something like that?â comes out his gruff, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.
His question brings you back to the earlier conversation about a perfect kiss and you canât control your breathing any more than your beating heart.
You nod quickly, eyes still on his lips. âYes,â is your breathless answer.
Jiminâs still breathing heavily as his eyes land once again on your lips.
âGood.â
And then heâs kissing you again.
And, fuck, you canât get enough.
Your palms land on his neck as you stand on your toes to reach him better and his hands wrap around your waist to keep you in place.
Fuck, youâre kissing him. Youâre kissing him and heâs kissing you back. As if heâs a man starved of your kiss and he needs anything you can give him.
But then he stops again and you almost groan out loud.
âYou need to stop doing thatâŠâ you exhale with an affected chuckle and he chuckles as well.
âI just⊠I need to talk to you before anything else happensâŠ.â he whispers and even though you know he wouldnât do anything to hurt you, you canât help but feel a pang of fear in your chest.
âIâŠâ he says, eyes dazedly looking at your face before he takes an encouraging breath.
âI want you to know that this isnât like last time. Itâs more, it means more, I-â he stops once more, voice trembling as he refuses to look anywhere else but you.
His words give you hope but for the first time in weeks, you welcome that hope. You welcome that glorious feeling to settle deep in your chest because you recognize that warm glint deep in his eyes.
âIâm in love with you,â he reveals and you swear your heart will burst. Thereâs moisture in your eyes but you will it to go away.
âYou areâŠ?â you ask with a small voice and Jimin smiles at you, all happiness and comfort. Thereâs a fuzzy feeling in the middle of your chest and at this moment nothing makes any more sense than you two.
âYes. And I spent the past year trying to run from itâŠâ he admits carefully as he slightly crouches down to meet your eyes.
âIâm not running anymoreâŠâ he concludes, a spark in his eyes and youâve never seen him more sure for anything in his life.
Thereâs a whirlwind of emotions in you. Relief, hope, undeniable joy. It makes your throat close and for a few seconds, you canât answer him. You only stare back and hope he understands like so many times before.
âI-â you manage to choke out with a weak voice but heâs quick to shush you, before kissing the inside of your palm.
âI knowâŠâ he responds softly, still holding onto your palm as his eyes find yours. You canât look away, couldnât if you wanted to.
And then you canât stop smiling, and heâs smiling back and before you know it youâre kissing again.
Happiness rolls like a current between, from all the places your bodies touch, you canât contain it so you keep on kissing fervidly, hands touching whenever they can, mouths moving in tandem like itâs natural. Like itâs the way itâs supposed to be.
âGod, I have so much I want to tell youâŠâ he whispers against your lips before heâs diving back in, tongue reaching out to meet yours.
âMe tooâŠâ you reply after a few seconds, pushing him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair. âBut not nowâŠâ you whisper sternly, pushing your chest against him, needing to feel more of him.
He curses under his breath, the sound sinful, licking his lips before heâs kissing you again and his hands fall lower down your back to rest over the swell of your ass.
You moan in appreciation when his hands grab at the tender flesh, making you arch out so he has better leverage. Thereâs a throbbing between your legs and you resist grinding on him just yet, to drag it out as long as you can.
Jiminâs lips move down the column of your throat as his body cages you against the wall, hands keeping your hips still as he wedges one leg between yours, so his thigh can press upright against your mound.
You moan again when he leaves a particularly deep hickey on your skin and your hips instinctively roll against his thigh, your hands holding on to his back afraid you might fall.
He chuckles darkly against your skin. âStill into thighs I seeâŠâ he mumbles before biting softly at your earlobe, a shiver running down your spine.
You bite your lip before, âCorrection, still into your thighsâŠâ you admit as you roll your hips slowly on top of his thigh, starting to feel that delicious warmth building up in your stomach, making you feel dizzy.
Jimin almost bucks into you with a low moan, as his hands are certain to leave marks on your hips as he struggles to remain sane.
âFuck⊠Although Iâm really tempted to just fuck you here, we should probably moveâŠâ he murmurs between kisses to your collarbone and you have half a sane mind to agree. The other half is already picturing him doing it either way.
But before you get to move, his arms are quicker, lunging under your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist with a surprised yelp. His palms are resting right on top of your ass, subconsciously pushing you closer, making your insides burn in anticipation.
Thereâs a smirk on his lips as he licks them, eyes roaming your face to make sure you donât have second doubts. Although your eyes are glued to the movement of his wet tongue.
When he realises this, heâs quick to move towards his room as you choose now as the perfect moment to lick and suck bruises on his neck, not able to deny yourself any longer.
âShit⊠Y/N, if you keep this up Iâm gonna drop youâŠâ he mumbles with a stern but clearly-affected voice and you smile in victory before softly biting at his skin, savouring his taste on your tongue.
He kicks his door open before he carefully lays you on his bed, lips immediately after your own as you reach for his neck to desperately press more of him against you.
Your palms move down his chest, grabbing the edges of his flannel to push it off his shoulders, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans.
âWhy are you wearing so many clothesâŠ?â you ask breathlessly, immediately reconnecting your lips like a woman starved and Jimin chuckles, grabbing the hem of your T-shirt instead and pushing it upwards. You sigh in relief as soon as your heated skin is free, yearning to feel more of his skin against yours.
âJust trying to keep myself warm,â he comments rushedly as he discards the piece of clothing somewhere behind him and his eyes fall to your covered breasts. He curses, lowering his face to kiss down your collarbones until his lips reach the bare top of your tits. His mouth leaves a wet trail behind thatâs making you gasp as your thighs rub together to gain some relief.
Jimin notices and chuckles darkly before biting your bottom lip. âYou want any help there?â he teases and you groan out loud with a pout.
âYes, but please take your clothes off a little bit faster. Itâs making my dick soft,â you whine, bucking your hips towards him.
He pins them down between his own legs, forcing them to stay still. His fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings as your breaths turn heavier while only looking at his eyes.
âAw, so I wonât have my ass rawed by your dick? Such a shame babyâŠâ he teases once more with a sinful smirk and the last word has your eyes rolling back into your head.
âFuck, say that againâŠâ you murmur, arching your chest upwards as you feel moisture gather between your legs, just by the single mention of a nickname.
Jimin laughs out loud as he moves to get your leggings off and youâre quick to aid him. âIs this really what turns you on?â he comments playfully as he leans in, lips kissing the underside of your jaw.
âNo, I meantâŠâ you stop, suddenly self-conscious, â... the other partâŠâ you mumble quietly, turning your face to the side, knowing a deep red has taken over your cheeks. Itâs not simply about the nickname or the tenderness in his voice as he said it. Itâs about what it represents, what you already heard from his lips but you simply canât have enough of. It makes everything real.
Jimin regards you for a second before, âWhat? Baby?â he asks, rather innocently and yet you still canât look at him, too embarrassed as you nod.
Jiminâs eyes turn softer as he bites his lip to contain his smile. Fuck, heâs so in love.
He moves to press a tender kiss to your jaw. âBaby,â he repeats slowly, before resting his lips on your collarbones and you sigh in content. âBabyâŠâ he says again, leaving a kiss in the valley between your breasts, making your breath hitch. âBabyâŠâ he moves lower, dragging his plump lips down your torso as your breaths quicken, the sound of the nickname having your heart making somersaults.
âBabyâŠâ he whispers lowly one last time, the tone completely different, darker, more promising. His eyes rest on you as his face now lays above your panties. Then his hands are hooking behind the waistband, dragging the material down your legs and he bites his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.
âGod, I wanna taste you so badâŠâ he says almost to himself and before you get to react, he hooks your legs on top of his shoulders and his tongue lands with kittenish licks on your clit.
An involuntary groan escapes you, bucking your hips into his mouth for more. And yet he maintains his pace, sending waves of pleasure up your body but never enough to get you where you want to. You canât help the movement of your hips as you crave for more friction, his movements delicious but never enough. Jimin pins your hips down, tsking you before he presses a kiss at the junction between your thigh and cunt.
âYouâll get what you want, baby, all in due timeâŠâ he says sternly, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth returns to your clit, and you bite your lip to drown your moan.
Though now, he leaves aside the kittenish lick to wrap his mouth around the swollen nub and suck it between his lips.
A loud moan breaks free from your lips, heavy pants resonating as his plush lips envelop your clit, finally giving you more, moving expertly against your folds and your hands find purchase on Jiminâs locks to press him more against you.
He lets you do as you please while one of his hands travels up your torso, pushing your braâs cups down to toy with one of your nipples.
The added pleasure has you cry his name in ecstasy, losing all control of your hips as they move against Jiminâs face, as if they have a mind of their own, chasing after your high like a madwoman.
And as one hand tugs at your erect nipples, the other finds this chance to move down your body and trace around your entrance, making your pussy clench in anticipation. Before finally pushing two digits inside your velvety walls.
âJimin!â you almost sob, your hips furiously chasing after your high as you feel the warmth building up more and more inside your stomach.Â
His fingers keep thrusting inside you, slowly at first to let you get used to the intrusion, before he picks up the pace, moving them quickly, roughly inside you. Knuckles deep as his fingertips find that little soft spot inside your walls that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.
And when you open your eyes and see Jimin staring you back with darkness and lust in his own from between your legs, the band snaps.
You come with a loud moan, riding your orgasm against Jiminâs tongue, as the pleasure seems too much, too intense. But then the feeling starts to fade away and Jimin lets you relax as he leaves butterfly kisses against your thighs.
You try to catch your breath as Jiminâs kisses move upwards, up your stomach, to your breasts until heâs kissing you again. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, never having quite enough of him.
âThis is not fair, you knowâŠâ you chastise him playfully, kissing his underjaw when a quiet moan rolls from his tongue.
âWhatâs not fair?â he asks, trying to keep up with the conversation but judging by the way his hip rut against you, you know heâs struggling.
âThe fact Iâm completely naked while you still have your clothes onâŠâ you observe with a cock of your eyebrow and a smirk grazes his lips as his finger tugs at the elastic of your bra and lets it snap against your skin.
âAh but youâre not completely nakedâŠâ he teases against your lips as his fingers move down your body in a sensual caress.
But being you, you take that as a challenge. So you push him slightly away just so you can move your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra with one movement.
Jiminâs eyes go wide as you flick the undergarment across the room, swallowing heavily before his eyes return to your bare chest.
âNow I amâŠâ is your witty retort as you subtly arch your back just so he can have a better view. He stands there staring at you for a few seconds before he curses and moves quickly to get rid of his clothes.
You giggle at his impatience when he ends up stuck in his T-shirt, sporting an adorable pout. âEasy, baby, Iâm not going anywhereâŠâ you joke, sitting up to help him take off his t-shirt with a soft smile, one he reciprocates as he moves to unbuckle his pants.
âWell, it wasnât me getting too impatient to- WaitâŠâ he stops mid-sentence after taking his pants off. A spark of realization has entered his eyes before he turns to you to meet you with a teasing smile.
âDid you just call me baby?â
Your eyes widen in shock as a blush creeps into your cheeks and with a scoff you lightly shove him for daring to make fun of you.
âY-you said it first, genius!â you try to justify yourself with a frown, but Jiminâs smirk only grows as he pushes aside his pants and crawls towards you.
âYeah, but Iâm not the one that spent more than half her life refusing to call her partners that because itâs cheesyâŠâ he comments playfully as he traps you beneath his body once more.
âEven if the rule never applied to herâŠâ he smiles teasingly at you, brushing his lips softly against your pout, reminding you that even if you never called your partners âbabyâ, you never stopped them from calling you that.
You purse your lips together as you look at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. âWellâŠâ you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, â...youâre differentâŠâ you mumble quietly, not really ready to look at him even if you know he feels the same.
That has him halting, and as he sees you too uncomfortable to go on, he doesnât say anything else. He presses a soft kiss to your knee instead, wishing to convey everything he feels as well through that small kiss.
The movement of his lips on your skin is so tender that has your heart flutter and, while he looks back at you, his smile puts your embarrassment to rest. Because heâs here for you because he feels the same.
âI know it comes a little late but⊠Can I kiss you?â he asks softly, eyes stuck on your face, tracing your features as if he hasnât really seen you before, not until now.
The question has your heartbeat quicken even though itâs completely unnecessary. Though your lips stretch out in a smile as you nod.
Jimin leans closer, eyes on your lips as if heâs under some spell. You suppose itâs the same youâre under.
You let his lips envelop yours gently, hands tangling in his hair as you both find yourselves moving back until youâre lying down with Jimin on top of you.
Your hands are greedy to explore his body, even though youâve done so before. Though that time youâre main motive was to get off, so now gives you the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with his body, to map out every little detail to memory, until heâs the only thing you see.
His lips move lower to kiss and bite at the column of your throat, eliciting the sweetest moan from your lips that sound like music to Jiminâs ears.
Your breaths get quicker, hands moving recklessly to get rid of the remaining piece of fabric that separates you. Jimin rushes to help you, throwing away his boxers, now standing in his complete naked glory.
Thereâs nothing else to say, not really when a single look can convey everything you feel without unnecessary words. And the way Jimin looks at you right now makes you feel like youâre in heaven. Like youâre cared for, safe and content right here in his arms.
His hand brushes a lock behind your ear and the motion is so tender, loving, it makes your heart skip a beat.
âAre you ready?â he whispers softly, eyes gentle, ready to back off if you say so, reminding you of yet another reason youâre so helplessly in love with him.
You simply nod, too afraid to talk but your smile is all it takes for Jimin to go forward.
He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes glued at that spot between your legs with anticipation. He moves forward, guiding his tip through your folds, going slowly in case itâs painful but the look of pure bliss on your face and the way your walls welcome his cock has him losing control and going the rest of the way in with a deep thrust.
Your nails claw into the skin of his back with a loud cry while Jimin breathes deeply against the skin of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.
âFuck, I-...â he exhales, lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a grip. â... You okay?â he says breathless, eyes searching yours for anything thatâs not okay.
A breathless chuckle escapes you as you press your lips on his jawline. âMore than okay. But please move.â
âOh, thank godâŠ.â he mumbles before pulling out and thrusting in again. His movements are slow, yet the perfect pace to help you build up slowly but surely towards a second high.
Jimin rolls his hips with the expertise only a dancer could possess, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each roll, hitting that spot again and you canât help but close your eyes to savour this feeling.
Shallow breaths leave you as his pubic bone brushes against your clit with each motion, driving you crazy.
âUgh, you feel⊠mmâ so goodâŠâ he mumbles between thrusts, letting his lips land on your breasts, to suck lovebites on your skin.
âJimin, fuckâŠ!â you cry out, high-pitched moans escaping you as your hands go to his ass, coaxing him to drive his cock even deeper.
He growls from above your chest before you feel his palm cupping your cheek. âOpen your eyes for me, loveâŠâ he mumbles quietly and you have no choice but to comply.
Opening your eyes, youâre met with Jiminâs piercing ones, staring at you intensely, burning with unspoken feelings that are too easy to recognize. After all, you feel them too.
You move to the side to kiss the inside of his palm before you smile at him.
He smiles back fondly at you before his hands move to lace his fingers with yours at each side.
âKeep your eyes on me, loveâŠâ he whispers before moving again.
This time around, his pace is slightly quicker, his cock hitting your sweet spot with renewed vigour and yet you can only concentrate on his eyes. His eyes that stare at you with such fondness and love it makes your eyes water.
You see the frown on his face before he stops moving in concern, yet you push your heels on his ass to keep him going.
âNo, itâs okay, Iâm okay, keep goingâŠâ you say, almost choking with the emotions overwhelming you. âItâs just that⊠I canât believe Iâm so luckyâŠâ you admit softly, an unbelievable chuckle escaping you as you stare at him with what you hope he sees as undeniable adoration.
He smiles at you again, -you think youâll never get tired of that smile-, before he leans in to kiss away the stray tear that flowed free from your eyes.
He picks up the pace once more, resting his forehead on top of yours, as shallow moans roll off your tongue. Your high keeps approaching, you can feel it and still youâre only focused on his eyes. Soft grunts escape him as he drives his hips into you, getting closer to his high as well, his hands grasping yours as if theyâre a lifeboat.
He brushes his lips gently against yours before âI love youâŠâ he mutters against you and you think your heart is gonna burst.
You press another kiss on his lips before, âI love you too.â
And then you donât say anything else as your high approaches and after a few more thrusts you both come entangled in one another, each otherâs names on your lips.
You lay like this for a few moments, with Jiminâs body on top of yours as both of you struggle to catch your breaths. Then your eyes find each other again and everything seems so clear, so right.
You canât stop smiling at each other like lovesick fools as you fall asleep next to each other, at last content.
.
.
When Jimin wakes up the next morning he thinks it was all a dream.
But as his eyes rest on your peaceful sleeping form he knows he could never dream something as perfect as this.
He canât help the lovesick smile taking over his lips as he looks at you through sleep-ridden eyes. He shuffles closer, resting his face on his hands to get a better look while you sleep soundly next to him. He feels like he can never get enough of you. Not now, not ever.
Suddenly your body begins moving though your eyes remain closed and Jimin figures youâre still asleep.
âStop being creepyâŠâ you mumble with a sleepy smile and Jimin grins too, realising he was wrong.
âIâm not being creepyâŠâ he argues softly, still smiling. You pop open one eye to look at him unimpressed before you yawn and open both your eyelids.
âOh, yeah, âcause itâs super romantic staring at me while Iâm asleep, where can I find another man like thatâŠâ you tease him with a drowsy smile as your eyes find his.
He groans dramatically though his smile still remains. âYouâre unbelievableâŠâ he mumbles, his voice still gruff from sleep and you have to suppress a shiver before shuffling closer.
âI know but you love meâŠâ you mumble against him before kissing his lips slowly. He lets himself get lost on the kiss before you lean back and he licks his lips to savour your taste.
âAnd now you canât take it back!â you exclaim out loud before smiling mischievously at him.
Another groan breaks free from his lips. âAlready regretting itâŠâ he comments, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes.
You gasp as if offended by his quip. âWell, maybe then Iâll just leave so you wonât regret it anymore!â you respond, gathering his sheet on your chest as you make a move to leave his bed.
But Jimin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you back on the bed, crawling on top of you with a predatory smile.
âNow, now, letâs not result in desperate measuresâŠâ he dives in for another kiss.
You canât help but smile again as you kiss him, hands circling around his neck as he softly bites your bottom lip.
âCareful sir. You might trigger something dangerous hereâŠâ you whisper seductively, moving one leg so your thigh can rub against his already half-hard member.
Jiminâs smirk only grows. âMmm, maybe I like dangerâŠâ he responds before his lips envelop yours once more. His hands travel beneath the sheet, tracing your skin before they move lower and-.
A loud bang echoes through the apartment, surprising both of you before a booming voice is heard through the walls, one that belongs to none other than Hoseok himself.
âHave you fucked yet or nah?!â
Your eyes widen, face immediately growing red. Jimin looks at you with an apologetic smile and before you get to ask why Hoseok is asking that, said man bursts into the room.
Thereâs a sudden explosion of sounds, you screaming as you hide beneath Jimin, Jimin cursing at Hoseok as he pulls the sheet to cover you both and Hoseok whistling at the image before him.
âWoah! You finally did it buds, Iâm so happy for you!â he cheers you on as he steps inside to fist bump a very angry looking Jimin and a very visibly confused you.
âHoseok, excuse my french, but what the fuck are you doing here?â Jimin is positively seething with his friends' interruption but as you see Hoseok basically beaming at the both of you, you canât help but giggle at the absurd situation.
âI came to see if my buddies finally worked it out! And you did, finally! Can you imagine if you hadnât and Iâd burst through the door screaming that? Thatâd be awkwaaaaaaard!â he comments, too cheerful to notice Jiminâs deadly stare and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.
âRight. That wouldâve been awkwardâŠâ Jimin comments sarcastically though Hoseok still seems oblivious as he sits on top of the bed with a happy smile hanging from his lips.
Youâre about to burst into giggles as you watch Jiminâs eyes growing wider in disbelief and youâre certain heâs gonna kill Hoseok any minute now.
âIâm so happy for you guys! My besties are finally dating!â he comments full of joy and Jimin is about to have smoke pouring out of his ears.
âHobi, weâre happy too but I think itâd be better for you if you leftâŠâ you comment with a smile, pointing with your head at Jimin whoâs about to lose it any second.
Hoseokâs eyes widen finally in realization. âOh, whoops! Right, right, Iâm leaving, keep going, stallion, show her how itâs done!â Hoseok throws finger guns at Jimin as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
As soon as Hoseok is out of earshot and you turn to look at Jimin you canât help but burst into giggles by how absolutely mad he looks.
Though when you start laughing, Jiminâs incredulous stare turns to you. âWhy are you even laughing?!â
Even though his ominous stare is directed at you, you canât stop laughing. âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry, itâs just too funny!â you say breathlessly through your giggles.
âToo funny?!â he asks incredulously before his gaze turns dark. His eyes have your laughter dying in your throat and instead another feeling rising up at the pit of your stomach.
âIâll show you funnyâŠâ he whispers sinfully before he lunges forward and you forget what you were laughing at for the rest of the day.
There are more important matters to tend to.
#95line.net#btsguild#bangtan bookclub#kwritersworldnet#jimin scenario#bts scenario#bts jimin scenario#jimin fanfic#bts fanfic#bts jimin fanfic#bts#jimin#bts jimin#jimin smut#jimin fluff#jimin angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst
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middle blockerâs clothing aesthetics
since a longer fic i was writing got deleted, hereâs something else while i decide if iâm going to restart or just pretend i never had the idea :) also i did kuroo in captainsâ clothing aesthetics, so thatâs why he isnât here
hinata
he needs to be comfortable and able to move around a lot in his clothes, because he is just a jumping ball of energy, so he has a casual streetwear aesthetic.
he hates jeans and accessories because they are uncomfortable and they get in the way of all of his overexaggerated actions he makes. he also hates accessories because once one of his necklaces got caught on a fence, and it almost choked him.
he gets a lot of inspiration from bokuto, because they both have the same requirements for clothes, so he always asks him for clothing tips, and bokuto happily obliges.
he cannot buy expensive clothes, because he always finds a way to stain his clothes or get them dirty. like he could be in the cleanest place imaginable and he still would get something on his shirt-
yamaguchi
he is the literal definition of soft boy, so he definitely has this aesthetic. yamaguchi doesnât want to attract too much attention to himself, so he doesnât do anything super extra like others, but his style is still amazing.
yamaguchi is a big advocate for thrifting and sustainable shopping, and he usually brings tsukishima along with him for thrifting trips, and they both get some nice pieces to add to their wardrobes.
he uses a really nice smelling fabric softener with his clothes, so his sweaters are really soft, and they smell nice, and itâs the literal perfect combo.
he doesnât like wearing thick chains and more edgy acessories, but he likes to wear a simple gold chain necklace to just bring his outfits together and itâs just- *chefs kiss
aone
this man is so soft- like i canât imagine him ever wearing anything black or remotely edgy because he just wantâs to seem friendly and inviting, so he wears a lot of sweaters and has that indie soft boy aesthetic.
because the soft sweaters cost a lot of money, aone tried to knit one himself, and it actually works, so now at least 1/3 of his collection is handmade and heâs really proud of it.
he doesnât like wearing jewelry, so he accessorizes his outfits by layering lots of clothing, and though it may not seem like it, the layers actually work really well together and he ends up having a well put together outfit.
he loves to support sustainable brands that fund good causes, so most of his clothes are a little more on the expensive size because of that. he doesnât mind because he knows that heâs helping the planet out a bit.
tsukishima
his clothing style is kinda simple, but it still looks really good. he doesnât like being extra with his outfits because he thinks people that try too hard are ânot coolâ so heâs pretty chill with his aesthetic.
he didnât really think thrifting was that exciting until yamaguchi took him once, and now he enjoys looking for new jackets or pants to make into outfits, though he will never tell yamaguchi that he looks foward to the trips.
he hates wearing necklaces, because he thinks they look really weird and they throw off the vibe of the outfit, but he is willing to wear rings, depending on how they look.
he doesnât like wearing tight, movement constricting clothes, and he really doesnât like getting his clothing dirty, so he will take active steps to get out of the way of hinata and noya, or his clothes will be ruined.
tendou
he 100% wears the alt/punk style fashion, and he can pull it off really well. he loves to just experiment with layering and different accessories and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesnât.
he is an avid thrifter, and he loves to just go to his local stores and find new crazy items that would work well with his chaotic aesthetic, and sometimes he brings ushijima along (he doesnât really understand why tenou likes thrifting so much).
he knows that he dresses well, and he isnât afraid to make fun of the other people on the shiratorizawa team about their fashion sense (especially semi).
he doesnât really care if his clothes get dirty or ripped, because if they do it just adds to his aesthetic, so he does whatever he wants, and actually gets a little excited if his clothes rip or get something on it.
suna
suna is an eboy. you cannot convince me otherwise. he loves the black on black aesthetic, and accessories are his favorite part of all outfits. he especially loves rings, because they always add that needed âedgeâ to his outfits.
he has one of those tik tok accounts where they just show off their fit and their hands, and like hundreds of thousands of people just like simp for them even though they never show their face, and he has a shit ton of fans.
he hates when his clothes get dirty, so when he has an outfit that he put a lot of effort into, he is really careful with it, and will not let the miya twins even touch him.
he makes shady comments about his teammateâs fashion sense, because he knows he dresses well, and he wants everyone else to know it too. he really likes making fun of atsumu.
lev
he has a retro/80s aesthetic, and his sister introduced it to him, because she thought it would look good on him (and it does), so the aesthetic just stuck with him.
he likes to thrift, but he doesnât usually go thrifting, because he never can find anything in his size, so when he does find something that fits, he gets really excited and buys it immediatley.
he doesnât really use accessories, because he just doesnât know how to match it to the outfit, so most of his outfits are pretty basic, but they look good. he also never can find matching socks for some reason, so he counts that as an accessory.
he does care about the condition of his clothes, so he is sort of careful not to get it dirty, but not enough that he wonât spill something on his shirt every once in a while.
matsukawa
he is another person who has the sort of retro aesthetic, but unlike lev, he likes to use accessories and layers to make his outfits a little more extra. he doesnât like rings though, so thatâs one thing he wonât wear.
he goes thrifting with hanamakki a lot, and while they do get clothes that would actually look good, they usually buy some really weird and borderline creepy shit just for fun.
if the brand is showing on the clothing, he doesnât like to mix it with another brand. there really isnât much of a reason to it, itâs just one of his fashion pet peeves.
he doesnât like to wear things that are super tight or uncomfortable, so he only wears loose clothing and accessories. he is pretty chill if his clothes get dirty or stained, but he prefers that they wonât get dirty, so he is sort of careful about what he does, but not as careful as others.
i hope you enjoyed!
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyu#haikyu headcanons#matsukawa issei#lev haiba#yamaguchi tadashi#aone takanobu#tsukishima kei#shoyo hinata#suna rintarou#tendou satori
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