#i accidentally made the white section of his mouth go too far so it looks like he has a mustache
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fiiresiidefrfr · 9 months ago
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Here's the very rough pic I made for @son1c and @sonlc 's April Fools joke.
No, I'm not super thrilled about the quality, but in terms of digital art, the only tool I have is a mouse so I'm good with it.
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twistedchristianscience · 10 months ago
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forgot to post about him here BUT I finished my silly little Vashraptor fursuit just before Emerald City Comic Con (and Vancoufur)
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except he's not actually "finished", just finished enough for me to wear him to those cons for a bit. he still needs a few more details, namely feetpaws, the stitches on his torso, a more raptor-like hand for his prosthetic, and claws. plus I'm not totally happy with his ears so I might redo them. I'll make legs and different prosthetics eventually, but that probably won't be for a while.
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as per usual of raptors, he looks pretty silly at any angle other than side profiles, so its a little difficult to get good photos while im actually wearing him.
more ramblings + WIP shots under the cut because this was the most complicated project ive ever done and im insane
so far, he's taken about $700 worth of materials and 150 hours but I'll make another post with updated numbers when he's fully finished.
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the headbase is made of EVA foam, with a hinge from WeaselsOnEasels (covered with that pink fabric because I accidentally put it on the inside, rip) and 40 teeth from DreamVisionCreations. the eyes and antorbital fenestrae have .5mm computer fan pvc mesh-- his vision and ventilation are fantastic, rivaling my suit with a 3d printed base, but fine details like writing and text are lost as per usual with vision meshes (that's not normally much of a problem for me with the furry conventions I go to annually and know the layout of, but it made navigating ECCC a nightmare since ive never been before and the venue is HUGE. I imagine ill have the same struggles if I go to sakuracon-- anyone wanna be my handler for that? lol). the unfurred section is coated with Plastidip and spraypainted dark brown. most of his mane is zippered on both sides so I can remove it and make interchangable versions (I plan to make spiked-up hair in yellow, half yellow/black, and fully black) while the tip of it is magnetic so it lies flat against the base. his tongue is also magnetic. I was originally going to make magnetic eyelids, but in all honesty, I might prefer to make them velcro as they tend to be easier to adjust + more secure than magnetic ones.
the part I hated making the most was his tail, not because it's bad, but because when I was almost done with it my dog got to it and chewed it apart.
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you can see there's an awkward little bump along the top near where the light yellow and black fur connect-- when im wearing the tail that bump makes it look broken. but since he's so mangled anyway it can just be considered part of his design since I didn't add any scars to it
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the tail feathers were a bit of a nightmare to make but the progress shots are cool
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the part I loved making the most, and that im most proud of, is the bodysuit. I thought the scars were going to be a nightmare to sew, but they were actually the most fun and I love how they turned out!! he will be getting an interchangable mane down his back as well but I didn't have the time to finish it. I might also extend the shoulders a little for a better fit, particularly the left as theres a noticeable gap between the suit and the prosthetic as it is.
I showed this video of the pattern to a friend at When Furballs Strike a few weeks back and she told me I was insane. she is correct, and I'm fairly sure me actually finishing the bodysuit in a week only proves it further. but I did it anyway, and I had fun doing it.
Fur used: Yellow (Hair/Mane, Tail Feathers): HowlFabric Buttercup Luxury Shag Light Yellow (Main Body/Face): MofuMofu Mi Yellow Long Fur White (Neck, Top Surgery Scars, Tail): BigZFabric White Short Shag Brown (Ears, Tail Feathers): HowlFabric Fossil Grey Luxury Teddy Black (Arm, Tail): HowlFabric Natural Black Luxury Teddy Scars: HowlFabric Salmon Minky Tongue: HowlFabric Banana Minky Inner Mouth: HowlFabric Vanilla Minky Inner Ears: BigZFabric White Minky
note about the mofumofu fur: it's pretty thin, if you trim too much you can see the backing through it. HOWEVER. this proved to be a positive for the bodysuit, as it's MUCH more breathable than thicker furs like howl's and bigz's. (for the one day I could make it to ECCC and two days of Vancoufur, I wore this suit for 10-12 hours straight with a sweatshirt underneath and never felt like I was overheating, the minky scars most likely helped with it but STILL??) it also doesn't get as matted. whether or not it's worth the $55/yd price depends on what you need it for, if it's within your price range and you're particularly sensitive to heat, I'd say go for it. I only needed a yard for this as I'm kindof a little guy (5'5", 120lbs) so it was worth it for me.
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rayraygo1267 · 1 year ago
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A Gabenath Fanfiction: Admiration in Disguise Chapter Three
Rated: T
Warnings: Minor Languge
Word count: 1,875
Link to Chapter One
Link to Chapter Two
Chapter Three
"What would you like for breakfast Adrien?" Nathalie asked the following morning whilst wiping the tiredness from her eyes, making  her way to the stove. Adrien, who was already perched at the kitchen island, smiled lazily up at her, his arms stretching as he yawned.  
"Can we have French toast?"
"I don't see why not," Nathalie said with a shrug, already cracking an egg into the pan. She was fairly certain that it would be reasonable to say they were both growing tired of Gabriel’s pancakes. In fact, she was herself considering purchasing a cookbook for him, just as a gentle nudge.
As she stirred the mixture of ingredients, her mind began to wander and she started to hum — a melody she didn’t know well but was familiar with — probably one of Adrien’s old piano pieces. Though as the batter began to sizzle, the smell of powdered sugar wafting through the air, the sound of Adrien’s voice snatched her from her thoughts. 
“Hey Nathalie, can I ask you something?” His tone was reluctant which was never a good sign and caused a sense of dread to wash over Nathalie. 
 She had stayed up far too late —  tossing and turning — to think through anything clearly. Her mind felt as if it was in a frazzled mist — her only thoughts being of Gabriel and how she could convince him that she was still a mandatory asset to his goal. Her brain only had room for one pressing matter at a time. 
“Of course Adrien.” She replied anyway, trying her best to mask her exhaustion. 
Adrien perked up, his face brightening, and with as much nonchalance as ever he asked, "So, tonight there's going to be this party with Kitty Section and..."
He didn’t need to finish, his pleading expression was enough to indicate his desire. Nathalie mentally groaned, for she couldn’t deny Adrien when he gave her that look. The look that made her stomach churn with a pungent guilt. The poor boy never got out much due to Gabriel’s rigorous inclinations — and while she found it endearing that Gabriel cared so intently for his son’s safety, she knew that his strict conduct took a toll on Adrien mentally, causing him to feel isolated. 
Nathalie let out a deep rueful sigh, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the handle of the frying pan.
"You may go."
Adrien paused, eyes widening in surprise.
"Really? But what about Father?"
Adrien was right, Gabriel wouldn't be pleased to say the least. Nathalie knew she could convince him though, even if it would require a lot of begging and bargaining on her part. Gabriel was as stubborn as he was dedicated, which to Nathalie was both impressive and infuriating. 
"I'll handle your father," Nathalie placated, sliding a plate of golden-brown French toast his way. Adrien grinned, his green eyes glistening, an uncanny reflection of his mother's. Sometimes when looking at him, all Nathalie could see was Emilie, her eyes, her hair, even her face shape.
He was a spitting image of her — a ghost.
Nathalie could hear the scrape of cutlery as Adrien drenched his French toast in a puddle of syrup. She took hold of her own plate, turning to take a seat across from him. 
Adrien’s gaze was on his food, his eyes unfocused. "Thank you, Mom,” he said with his signature bout of cheeriness as he shoved another bite of French toast into his mouth. 
The dish in Nathalie’s hands nearly slipped from her grasp as Adrien's words registered. Time seemed to warp in that instant as Adrien’s hand flew to his mouth, his fork clattering against the countertop. 
"I—Nathalie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..." he trailed off, his cheeks aflame.
"It's alright Adrien." Nathalie muttered quickly, her brain still trying to fight through the cloudy mess that was her own complicated whirlwind of emotions. 
She would be lying if she said she wasn't extremely touched by Adrien's sentiment, even if it were accidental, but she couldn’t say it didn’t stir up an emotional tempest within her. 
Personally, she'd never once thought of herself as any type of mother figure, especially to Adrien — that was Emilie’s job — but that didn't mean she didn't ever want to be one.
All those flashing memories of Adrien’s youth came rushing back to her. She remembered all the times she had held, played, and even soothed the young Agreste. She had done all those motherly pursuits in both Emilie’s and Gabriel’s absences because she refused to have Adrien growing up in a world where he felt alone. 
Nathalie was abruptly jolted from her reverie by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. Adrien appeared by her side, placing his empty dish in the sink. The atmosphere around them now felt fragile, a suspended moment in time.
"I'm really sorry Nathalie.” Adrien began sincerely, arms pressed against his chest.
“I didn't mean to upset you. I just...well ever since mom...disappeared...I've just felt so alone, almost like there was this void in my heart and with Father being so distant—your presence has been a huge comfort to me,” his face brightened, “You truly do mean a lot to me Nathalie. You always have."
Tears glistened in Adrien’s eyes as he spoke, turning and enveloping Nathalie into a firm hug. Nathalie was momentarily motionless, her heart stuttering, but she seemed to pick back up to speed again when she felt a seed of warmth blossom throughout her chest. 
“I’m truly not upset Adrien,” she murmured.  "Not at all, you know that I love you,” she assured him gently.
Adrien leaned back, his features in jeopardy of crumbling, his eyes springing with a fresh set of tears,“You do?” 
Nathalie smiled tenderly, her affection clear in her gaze, “Of course I do. I made a promise to both your mother and father to look after you and I plan to do just that.” 
Adrien pulled her back into his embrace, his grip on her tightening, a joyful cry escaping his lips as he buried his face deep into her chest.
“I love you Nathalie.” He murmured, voice muffled.
Nathalie chuckled wetly, resting her chin on the crown of Adrien’s head, her arms encircling him, “I love you too Adrien,” she whispered.
“Always.” 
Nathalie sighed as her head hit the pillow, a hint of a soft smile forming on her lips, her gaze following the delicate sway of her bedroom’s ceiling fan.  She still couldn’t fully grasp the day’s events.
Her maternal love for Adrien had taken a secure presence in her mind, throwing her off balance from everything she had thought she knew. For over the past decade the Agreste family has been a key part of her life — a constant. She cared for all of them and although she was bound by the constraints of an employer, she couldn’t deny the connection she felt. She wondered — based on what had occurred if it was possible that they felt the same way. Did they truly consider her as part of the family? And if they did what did that entail for their future?
In the beginning, before she had even started working for the Agreste’s, Emilie had been the one Nathalie confided in. For her, Emilie had been a sister. Her first remnant of anything remotely related to a family. Losing Emilie had torn Nathalie apart, like withered fabric. Yet she saw her everywhere — the whole house, everything was her. The kitchenette, the dining room, Adrien’s room, Gabriel’s room, Gabriel’s office, the atrium, the lair — everywhere. Even so, with her presence so fully embedded into the Agreste household, Nathalie couldn’t hold back her grief, which was all the more reason she needed to help Gabriel. 
Thoughts of Emilie, in turn, always led her mind to Gabriel — a man who’s determination and compassion coursed effortlessly through him, as if instilled in his bloodstream. The qualities of which she was enthralled by, all possessed by one singular person whom she admired wholeheartedly. 
Although, she had to admit that something foreign ignited within her when it came to Gabriel. The small fragments of time in which their eyes met — whether in the concealed shadows of the atrium or in the midst of a battle against Ladybug and Chat Noir — time seemed to cease and she couldn’t help but think that she was more — more than just a measly assistant, perhaps even family. And although she may not be an Agreste that did not diminish the fact that she belonged to them.
Gabriel was so kind to her, in spite of his standoffish nature. He didn’t even argue when she told him of Adrien’s plans to attend his friend's party. He merely gave the boy a curfew and told him to have fun, which was certainly unexpected but kind nonetheless.
And if she were being honest, the more time she spent pondering this, the more she felt other feelings begin to surface, feelings that resided in the nooks and crannies of her brain.
Is it possible that what Duusu had suggested could actually hold some truth? For one thing, it wasn't particularly idealized as normal for one to care for their boss to the extent at which Nathalie did for hers. She had thought it to be due to their long lasting friendship and even now all those emotions that came over her whenever they shared a look, or simply brushed a hand, wasn't that all just her deep admiration for a man who was so fervently devoted to his wife?
Or was it something else? 
What did people call it when they felt like they were constantly on the edge of their seat — waiting to let go? The feeling of butterflies was too light of a term, in fact akuma’s would be better for when she sought out these feelings.  All it brought on her was concentrated ambivalence. 
Her loyalty to Gabriel stemmed farther than she ever thought it would. He was her colleague, yet he was her friend and also he was the one person who made her feel.
All her life she fought for herself — fought to work, fought to thrive — Gabriel had given her a job — a life — and showed her what living looked like. Nathalie. Mayura. She got to experience it all, with him by her side, his once infectious smile there to guide her. 
She wouldn’t risk giving him up for anything — no matter how selfish that desire made her. Her feelings concerning Gabriel were as much a part of her as anything else and at last she finally knew what those feelings meant.
Without any warning, as if jostled from an unsettling dream, Nathalie bolted upright in her bed, a cold sweat intruding down the back of her neck and up the start of her hairline. She could feel the erratic thump of her heart against her ribcage and she knew she could no longer bury it, for hearts did not beat with no purpose. 
Even if Gabriel did not feel for her as she did for him, she knew that she had to try.
She had to try because she was in love with Gabriel Agreste. 
In fact, she was utterly, irrevocably smitten.
A/N: Sorry for any grammatical errors. I edited this late at night, but hopefully it turned out semi-good. Anyways, thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed chapter three of Admiration in Disguise! And as always if you have any gabenath fanfic requests let me know!
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glossyfairytears · 3 years ago
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Start of the story: Bnha magical AU
The walk to the library is always a nice way to have some alone time for yourself. It’s not far from student dorms making studying there a lot more appealing. The approaching the old building, you admire how the vines have grown into a solid green blanket, clinging to the stone walls. Last time you were here a certain hot headed blonde had been “practicing offensive spells”outside the library with Izuku and accidentally hit one of the vines causing a section of the vines to wither.
“I SAID I WONT DO IT AGAIN SHITTY HAIR”
“Just making sure, man. Wouldn’t want to see you expelled or anything.”
“IT WAS ONE TIME”
Ahh speak of the devil.
Bakugo and Kirishima were coming from the path opposite you. Not really wanting to deal with Bakugo at the moment, you slipped inside the weathered doors.
The smell of books and incense greets your nose. Ms. Midnight must be around. She always carried a soothing smell of lavender and rose.
Talking a turn, you head for the stairs, making your way to the spot you tend to study in. It was a smaller table, pressed against a wall and hidden by some shelves. It gave a great view of the courtyard in front of the library.
After what felt like a considerable amount of time, you shut your book, satisfied with the progress you had made. Checking your watch, it was around 7:00. Dinner usually started around 7:30, but it never hurt to get there a little early, besides if you are leaving dinner a little early to meet Todoroki at 8:00 you wanted to at least look presentable for when he would kill you. Speak of the devil. Glancing out the window, you catch sight of Todoroki’s distinctive red and white hair. Strange. He seemed to be talking with someone but you couldn’t quite see who it was.
He wasn’t unattractive, you supposed. The way the dying light hit his hair made it glow, the silver side seeming to possess an ethereal quality to it and the red lighting up like flames. The contours of his face seemed to rival incubi, and his build put statues to shame.
…maybe he was attractive.
Todoroki’s head turns, staring straight at you and you jump. He couldn’t see you, right? The library window isn’t too opaque, so he shouldn’t be able to see you. You see his lips move saying something unintelligible and Momo’s dark hair pops out from behind the hedges. She too glances at the library before parting Todoroki on the shoulder, laughing it looks like before she walks away.
Thoroughly embarrassed and slightly creeped out for possibly being caught staring and stared back at, you quickly shove your things in your bag and leave. Todoroki was still in the courtyard, but had began to walk away, luckily not in the direction of the dorms. You scurry down the main path, taking extra precautions so that he may not notice you. It would feel weird, in your opinion, to see him before the set time considering all of the possibilities flying around your head.
Stopping a moment, you glance back at the library, finding the window you were at. The window was indeed dark enough that he shouldn’t have been able to see anything. Perhaps he was looking at the last patch of wilted leaves near it. Hopefully he was, but it felt Ike he made eye contact. Like he knew you were there.
Brushing it off you raced up the stairs and haphazardly plopped your things on your dorm bed. Heading to your dresser, you glanced in the mirror. Your tie was a little crooked and the collar on your shirt had shifted a little, but other than that you looked about the same as you did this morning.
Fixing those, you grab your scarf from your dresser. It tended to get a little cold once the sun dropped and since Todoroki was so adept with ice magic it couldn’t hurt for extra protection… who are you kidding, a scarf wouldn’t protect you from ice of that caliber. Huffing, you straightened your tie once more and wrapped your scarf neatly over it, out of spite.
As you had expected, the sun setting had chilled the air with its recent disappearance. The sunset was still very pretty though, framed by the old buildings of the campus. You didn’t have long to admire it, however as you made it to the dining hall rather quickly. Pulling open the doors to the main building you could hear the sounds of the dining hall from off to the right.
It was a beautiful building, tall arches melting into towering ceilings. Stained glass replacing a few of the normal windows. The warmth it gave off around meal times felt so welcoming. Spotting mina’s horns and bright pink hair, you made your way over to her.
“Started without me?” You ask, smug look on your face.
She jumps, swallowing the bun in her mouth in one gulp.
“No?” She flashes doe eyes at you, “I haven’t the faintest clue what your talking about.”
“Right, and I don’t have black hair” Sero quips from behind you.
Mina smiles, scooting over so that you and Sero can sit. You tend to sit in the middle of the two, definitely not to steal food off of their plates. They never seem to mind, however.
“Soooo?” They both ask you.
“Soooo?” You ask back.
“Oh come on!” Mina grabs your shoulders. “Are you gonna go or what I’m dying to know!”
“Please (Y/N), you gotta tell us”
“Okay, okay” you sigh:
“I’m going”
“I’m not going”
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loser-hub · 4 years ago
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All For One.
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Summary: There needs to be more content for this gloriously sinister man and I am more than happy to provide! How does it begin? Will you escape his clutches or will you submit to his desires?
Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Kidnapping, Mild mention of Starvation, Dubcon, Quirk use during sex, Mind-Break and a whole host of degeneracy.
Notes: I tried to make the reader as vague as I possibly could for insert pleasure! GN with as few details as possible so it could be anyone or anything! This is 18+, minors dni. If you'd like to block any content of this nature on my page please put Tw: Heavy Spice in your filtering options!
A/N: I really don't know if I should apologize for this or not, you can see the point it got out of hand so please be warned and take your tastes and limits into account while reading!
A terrible fate has befallen you, hasn't it?
Your meeting was rather innocuous. So easily forgotten despite the feelings time with him supplanted. Long before his debut in the Kamino Ward and before his defeat at the hands of the Symbol of Peace. He wasn't heavily deformed then, he could easily mix in with the crowds and disappear as quickly as he appeared. His shaggy white hair and piercing blue eyes matched only by his stature and smile, the consensus of the humdrum day-to-day passerby was that he was quite attractive. Not that he ever entertained their mindless and painfully obvious observations.
The fateful event happened rather cliché all things considered. It began in a library. Wonders never ceased and he was unsure what compelled him to enter the home of knowledge and entertainment but he never once regretted it. Wandering the sea of books he looked for anything that would pique his interest, he nearly gave up the search until his eyes landed on you. An innocent, tiny thing that perused the history section for your latest essay or project, he never specifically asked why you were there.
He was captivated, captured by your beauty. Staring there at the entrance of the aisle for so long that when you turned you shrieked, believing him to be a well dressed Weeping Angel that you had read about the night before. That was the most embarrassing moment of your life as you apologized to him and to the librarian that zipped to the location to scold you about being too loud. For once he found apologies endearing, cute even, adorable if you feel so inclined and the sheer shock that a creature like you could exist in this world was pushed to the wayside.
The encounter was swift but profound, for him at least. Using his towering height to pull a book from the shelf you were too short to reach and place with the over growing collection. You were stuttering and blushing something fierce underneath his gaze and he had to stop himself from smirking at your bashfulness. He asks for your name and once you divulge it he responds by insisting you call him Mr. Shigaraki. After more insistence from either side hearing his name fall from your lips was like he was graced with hearing the voice of an Angel.
Sadly that's where the meeting ended as your time was up for whatever was going to take up your time next and you needed to scurry away. You wouldn't be forgotten as your face was forever burned in his memory, a fondness churning in the pit of his stomach. He believed everyone else was beneath him, save for his brother, who were all ants that needed to be squashed. You were different and he needed to find out why.
Time passes, as it always does. You forgot your encounter with Mr. Shigaraki and life went on. The day started off oddly, you couldn't place why but the hairs at the back of your neck stood on end. A lingering sense of doom settled in your mind like a dense fog on a dewy spring morning but whatever the reason had yet to reveal itself. This too was forgotten as the day progressed until it was late, late enough for you to seek refuge in your bed. About to drift off to sleep when suddenly your whole room shook, no, the entire area shook like an earthquake had just opened the earth beneath your feet. Looking out your bedroom window you saw chaos, the entire area had been decimated and nothing but rubble remained. Heroes had appeared and began evacuating just in time for your home to collapse.
You drifted in and out of consciousness. The moments where your eyelids were opened you saw none other than All Might, the Symbol of Peace, face down a masked villain in a suit. Shock was written on the hero's face when you called out to him for help, accidentally gaining the attention of the villain as well. If he still had eyes they would be wide and manic, he had not forgotten you of course but there you were. He had searched for you so fervently and yet here you were right under his nose. Your presence, he could feel it using that quirk from the cat rescuer and he instantly knew it was you. What luck. The fight was abandoned when he saw this was his best chance, the rest of the heroes were too focused on fighting off his pawns and All Might was too wounded to move.
In an instant the masked villain moved the rubble that had been pinning you in place and whisked you away.
Your fear was intoxicating. The pleas, begs and sobs that you cried were more delicious than anything he had ever experienced. More euphoric than any narcotic, sweeter than ambrosia. The beats of your hands on his back drowned out by the drumming of his heart, his mouth was beginning to water. He could hardly wait.
Like any self respecting villain All For One had many, many hideouts and safe houses. Many hadn't been used in years, others were still unknown to the heroes, then there was one. The place he took you was far more special, the place he had planned to bring you after that fateful day but never used when you slipped away. Well, you wouldn't escape this time.
For a place that hadn't seen life in years it was surprisingly well kept. Not a speck of dust laid on any surface, a few lightbulbs had died or exploded when he flipped on the lights but the water still ran and there was heat, it would do nicely for the time being. During the short trip via warp gate you had passed out, the silence when it had been delicious begs was disappointing but his signature smile appeared. There would be plenty of time to hear you cry while he breaks you into the perfect doll.
After your "retrieval" he places you on the never before used emperor sized bed and retreats to the lounge chair at your bedside. He sits perfectly still, staring at you much, admiring how much you changed and grew in his absence. A hint of pride bubbles up, he's pleased to know the lovely being he remembers became even fairer and more perfect. The feat would be impossible for any other person but you were made for him, you're his, and you had to be for a man such as him.
When you wake up those beautiful, blissful begs are heard by his worthy ears once again. Behind his life support helmet he sighs, a heavenly breath that you take for annoyance. You cry. "Please don't kill me", "Don't hurt me", "I'll do anything" but oh sweet thing, you're going to do anything he says regardless. You're his. Why would he hurt or kill you? If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead.
It comes as a surprise that he's afraid to remove his facial cover. He might be the Symbol of Evil with plans of world domination but there's a portion of him that is a slave to your desires, just as the world is a slave to his. A sliver of doubt appears as you ask who he is, if he reveals his identity and you ask for proof, his disfigured appearance would revolt you. No blue eyes to see you blush, no hair for you to run your hands through, no lips to feel yours on his.
"Mr. Shigaraki" was the clue he gave you. It was adorable seeing your face go blank as your mind was wracked trying to remember the face. He watched with bated breath as your eyes showed recognition, you remembered him. You remember his face, his smile, his feeling. That wasn't helpful, now you had a face to the person who kidnapped you. Who was holding you captive for...what? Ransom? To be tortured? To be his plaything? Every possibility was worse than the last, each one more dire and inescapable and bleak.
He did his best to comfort you albeit in a deleterious manner. The Emperor of Darkness' weight was displaced from the lounge chair and moved to the bed, his near gigantic form towering over you. Knee pressing into the mattress, causing your body to naturally shift into him. You couldn't move. There was no gap to dash through if your body would get over being paralyzed in fear. The hand that could cover your head was placed on your cheek with uncharacteristic gentleness, a soft gesture that was masked by the sinister appearance staring down at you.
"Fear not, My Sweet." His voice is slightly muffled by the life support, the emotions were unbridled, intense and all together unhinged. He's wholeheartedly delusional, diluted enough to believe he's going to the the greatest Demon Lord who ever lived and would dismantle the world, rule it all the while having your love. He craves it, he needs it, he's desperate for it. It drives him mad and being this close to you sends him to the brink of insanity.
Your limitless stubbornness is as wonderful as it is infuriating. All For One can't have the object of his love be a pushover from the gate, at least not yet. He has to experience the pleasure of breaking you, making you submit to him before you're allowed to follow his orders. He has to make you his Doll first, his obedient, beautiful Doll. That's a tall order and as the days pass his desperation grows. The itch in the back of his mind needed to be scratched and it was becoming clear his tactics were having the effect he desired. You stymied his every attempt, reacted the exact opposite of how he expected. He loved it, the last flame of your fighting spirit getting snuffed out in his raging insistence. He was beginning to wear you down, headway was being made and the inevitable end result was near.
All For One's machinations had increased in cruelness, once he had left you enough water to last a week and nothing else. The food vanished and all you were left with were bottles of water. He was gone for two weeks, it only took ten for you to teeter on the edge of sanity. Devoid of any interaction from the outside world. Only you, your thoughts and the dwindling "supplies". When he returned he was pleased he was greeted with showers of affection, your touch was smothering and your body was pressed to his as close as humanly possible. The last of your will had fled in his absence and now his Doll was in the perfect state to mould to his liking.
That night it begins. You're so needy, so greedy. He decides to indulge you and removes his helmet, confident you wouldn't be repulsed by his scarred visage. He's correct of course, when you were met with the invitation to express your desperation you take it. Your lips wander. Pressing messy and half-opened kisses to his neck, jaw, and whatever remained of his own lips as his massive hands lead you towards the bed. You don't notice until the back of your knees hit the edge and suddenly you're falling.
He's on you in an instant. The bed sinks with his added weight and the heat he radiated replaced the warmth provided by your clothes. Before you knew it his thick yet dexterous fingers were pushing into your hole unprompted, sheathing them down to the knuckle before they were retracted. He was going to take immense satisfaction by making you climax until you were babbling incoherently before even preparing you for his villainous cock.
Which was exactly what he did, denying you orgasm until you were red in the face and sobbing. All For One sat back on his knees in victory, smirking as he watched you wiggle and writhe at the loss of attention. There was one final thing: hearing you finally give into him. He owned your body but he needed to own your mind, your soul, your spirit, everything.
"Say it." In the moment his voice was low, gruff, reverberating throughout your clouded mind to send heat straight down to your nethers. You might've been aroused before but nothing compared to what his voice did to you.
"S-s-say w-wh-wha?" Barely able to form a sentence you willed yourself to speak, if only to repeat whatever he wanted so he would continue with his mind numbing ministrations. The lack of sending you in a desperate rut the likes of which you had never experienced. He was cruel, further denying you what you wanted. His hand so near to your skin that the tiny peach hairs picked up the presence but when your hips bucked to force him to touch you? He left entirely.
"Beg. Beg for me to fuck you, to ruin your body, to corrupt your mind and make you mine. Mine alone."
That was quite the mouthful and you weren't sure if you could say it back but that's what he wanted. Mustering your frenzied will you commanded yourself to speak, to plead for what you so desperately wanted. "Please, please fuck me. Please I need you, I need you, please make me yours. I want to be yours, please!"
Every second, every breath, every thought had been leading up to this moment. All For One was in Seventh Heaven upon hearing your final submittance, exultantly triumphant. Your reward was swiftly delivered, the bulbous head of his cock pressed against the entrance of your hole and with one swift thrust he inserted himself to the hilt. The sharp edge of his hips cutting against the plush of your inner thighs, it hurt, it hurt so much. He had prepared you, scissoring and stretching you, it wasn't enough. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the full stuffing of his cock inside you was enough to make you regret begging him to fuck you, sensing this he didn't move. Giving you time to adjust and acclimate while licking away your salty tears. The heat of his heavy breath oddly comforting.
Once your filled hole stopped fluttering all bets were off. His hips snapped expeditiously in the customary manner of fucking ones Doll till they came undone and fell into unconscious from the exhaustion and pleasure they felt. He was unrestrained. The initial softness and care he showed was the furthest thing in his mind now all that was left was a feral need to fuck his Doll till they were bedbound. He makes sure you know who owns you, using his numerous quirks to let you there was no escape. Musculoskeletal Coiling to make his already bed shattering thrusts harder. Proliferation, creating several pairs of arms and hands to tease you in places all at once. Reaching to grasp at your neck, fingers tweaking your oversensitive nipples all the while more teased and played with places unimaginable. Once using his Air Walk quirk to suspend you both amidst the impactful love-making.
Time had no meaning. Whatever seconds you counted to remember how many times he had made you climax were a distant dream, black spots appeared in your vision, your body somehow numb and pained all at once. The lightest touch was like you had been set on fire. In one particularly lucid moment you swore a drop of his milky cum was sliding past your nose but you don't remember blowing him or snorting it out but in the haze who knows what had happened. Finally the peaceful sleep wrapped you in its arms and carried you off to a safer place for a time.
Just as you passed out All For One finally came. Engorging you to the very brim, his fingers acting as a stopper to keep his demonic cum from spilling out. Whatever was left of the wrecked bed was used as All For One took your limp, sleeping body and wrapped you up in the soiled duvet.
The afterglow shone brightly like a halo while he laid with you. Keeping you flush against him. The plotting began again. Awaiting your eventual awakening to show you the other quirks at his disposal. He was far from done with you. It hadn't been a day since your submission and he intended to keep you as his Doll till you were well and old and your last breath was the escape from his eternal love.
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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
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if i could keep cool | 4
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pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader
length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters
summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.
tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut
There was no other word for it. Todoroki was a menace.
Though his schedule seemed to return to something approximating normal, he was still in the apartment often enough that you began to anticipate him being there. Even when he wasn’t, however, he made life difficult enough for you by leaving behind gifts, with progressively more disappointed notes if you didn’t take them. You didn’t know how it was possible to convey that flat tone in the shape of his letters, but you could practically hear it as you read them over.
Worse, he seemed to know exactly which of your weak points to exploit to get you to want the gifts--leaving you several more books, a bag of the really nice coffee beans from the coffee shop you’d told him about, and a sinfully soft scarf as the weather turned colder. When you continued to ignore the insane amount of money he seemed to think passed for a tip, fresh vegetables started cropping up on the countertops with notes that said things like I’m not going to eat these, if you don’t take them they will be wasted to guilt you into compliance.
A month into it, an entire grocery order started showing up every Thursday shift. My refrigerator is full so don’t try to stuff any of this in there, his note commanded.
He was a master of manipulation, it seemed, and to what end you didn’t know. You made mental notes to not mention any further likes during your conversations, but when he was there, Todoroki’s conversation was so easy and so natural, he continued to pull all the details out of you with ease.
So things you really, really liked kept turning up. And as you talked to him, Todoroki was turning into a thing that you really, really liked as well.
It was overwhelming.
The final straw was a Friday afternoon when you hit up the fancy coffee shop just outside campus. You walked in with the extra money you’d saved up not buying your own groceries, and the vague idea that you would get a head start on an upcoming paper. And then, the barista very obviously glanced between you and a sheet of paper taped to a corner of the register, and refused to let you pay for your order.
“Your order is free!” she chirped cheerfully.
You stared. “What?”
“It’s already taken care of!” she said, and immediately, a cloud of suspicion settled over you.
“What’s the occasion?” you asked.
She smiled. “The occasion is someone already paid for you!”
You glanced around the coffee shop, but you could find nothing but a few unfamiliar students purusing books or churning out work on their respective laptops. You turned back to her.
“And if I were to walk into this coffee shop tomorrow, would the occasion also be that someone already paid for me?”
She nodded. “Yes! All your future orders are paid for, please come as often as you like!”
You gaped at her, and she cheerfully stuffed your coffee into your hands. Then you glared down at the white paper cup accusingly, and it stared back at you, looking like one half of a certain menace’s hair color.
Oh, he was in for it.
You stalked over to a table and whipped out your cell phone, shooting off a message so fast your fingers practically burned.
todoroki what the hell
To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.
It’s Shouto.
Like hell it was.
first names are for friends, not psychopaths. did you really pay for all of my future orders at the coffee shop?
Is this your first time there this month? he answered. Where do you usually go?
You stared at your phone. He’d done this a month ago? Also, no way you were telling him your budget spot where you picked up lukewarm bean water when you couldn’t afford four dollar americanos. The last thing you needed was for him to buy them out, too.
You got to your feet, marching back over to the barista.
She smiled. “Back for something else?”
“Yeah, how do I cancel the all my orders are paid for thing?” you asked. “Can you just delete whatever info he left you and charge me from now on?”
She looked you up and down. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
She stared, then leaned in to whisper. “You do know who paid for all your orders, right? Are you actually sure you want to cancel?”
A migraine started in your temples. Had Todoroki actually come in here himself to give his information? Was he trying to get you caught up in the secret lover bullshit that was still swirling in the media?
“I’m extra sure,” you smiled, then went back to your table, satisfied.
No sooner than you had dug out your laptop, though, when your phone buzzed. You looked down at the name on the screen and paled. Todoroki was way easier to deal with via text when you couldn’t hear that low, smooth tone directly in your ear. His face and his voice were absolutely fucking mind-melting, and it would be hard to maintain your stubborn stance even in the face of just one.
Still, though, this was the last straw.
“How many times do I have to tell you that friendship is free?” you hissed quietly as you picked up.
“They told me you tried to cancel,” he said flatly, and your head whipped up to glare at the barista accusingly. She smiled.
“Todoroki--”
“Shouto,” he said.
“Fine, Shouto,” you said, “It’s been a month and maybe I let you get the wrong idea by accepting all of the vegetables and everything, but this ends here. I told you that it doesn’t cost anything to be friends with me, and you had better stop apologizing. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but--”
“Then do,” he said simply.
“What?”
“Then just appreciate it,” he answered. His voice was somehow even lower on the phone and a shiver went down your spine, despite your frustration with him. “Just accept them. Why is it so bad if a friend gives you things?”
God, he was such a rich boy, wasn’t he?
“Shouto, I do appreciate it,” you said. “But I don’t need any of that. And I know that you know this isn’t necessary--I highly doubt that you are buying Midoriya all of his weekly coffees or draping Bakugou in soft scarves. All you need to be friends with me is to just hang out, the same way you do them.”
Shouto was quiet a moment. “Hang out,” he finally said, slowly, like he was tasting the words in his mouth. Then, “Are you free right now?”
“W-what?” you managed.
“You don’t have class right now, right? Your last lecture just let out.”
You were surprised that he remembered your class schedule. Just how much had you told him?
“Uh, yeah?” you asked.
“Good, stay where you are. We’re hanging out,” he pronounced the words like they were foreign on his tongue, then hung up.
You stared down at your phone in shock. He wanted to hang out with you? Like, outside of his apartment?
There was no arguing the two of you got along relatively well, now that the threat of your crazy fandom and the weight of his mistake no longer hung over your relationship. You talked easily enough the one or two times you saw him during any given week. But so far your interactions had been somewhat limited, confined to the familiar space of his apartment and limited to the time that you had to be there. You texted a little outside of that, but you’d never just casually hung out.
Then the weight of his words really hit you. He was coming here? To the coffee shop? In full view of your entire campus? Was he insane?
You ran through a mental checklist of things in your bag that could be used to disguise him but came up short. You didn’t know exactly what he planned to look like when he put in an appearance here, but you were not interested in fanning the flames of the secret lover garbage that was still all over twitter and splashed across the glossy pages of the magazines at the grocery store.
You shot to your feet and threw your bag over your shoulder, then ran out the door, dashing for the campus shop that sat just outside the student center. You blew through the door and dove straight for the apparel section, grabbing the least heinous hat that looked like it would cover most of Shouto’s distinctive hairstyle while also drawing the least amount of attention to its wearer. You also helped yourself to a plain pair of sunglasses that would probably be kind of inappropriate in the fall weather, but would go a long way in hiding his eyes and that scar.
Why did he insist on having so many distinguishing features? Would it kill him to have dark hair and dark eyes like most of the rest of the earth’s population?
You threw the items and a wad of bills down on the register counter, then paused. A few small, slightly-wilted looking bouquets of flowers sprouted from buckets just beside the register in the colors of your university. You didn’t know what the colors or type of the flowers were supposed to mean, and they probably didn’t give off exactly the message you wanted to send, but Shouto had gotten you flowers as the first gift he’d ever given you…
You grabbed the least wilted looking bunch and threw them on top of the other items.
The cashier rang you up with all the urgency of a sloth, and you tapped your foot nervously as you waited. How was Shouto getting here? How long would it take him? Would he be at the coffee shop already?
You stuffed the flowers into your bag, then launched yourself out of the campus shop like a rocket, catching that mop of red and white hair just outside the entrance to the coffee shop. You put on a burst of speed and managed to jam the baseball cap down over his head before he pulled open the door. He turned to you in surprise.
“Y/N,” he said.
“Yes, hi, hello,” you managed while also trying to ram the sunglasses onto his face.
He let out a small huff of amusement. “What are you doing?”
“What you should have done before coming here, you absolute wackjob,” you said, finally managing to slip the shades over his high-bridged nose without poking his eyes out.
Shouto let you manhandle him to your liking, until his face and hair were mostly hidden under your university merchandise.
“Okay, you should be good now,” you said, looking him over. He still stood out, honestly, too tall and outrageously handsome, even covered up as he was. The sweater and well-fitting jeans he’d chosen would still draw anyone’s gaze straight to his trim figure, but it would have to do.
“We can’t go inside, though, you’ll look too shady with the cap and glasses,” you said. “We need to go somewhere outdoors.”
He stared down at you, one eyebrow lifted over the top of his sunglasses. “It’s fall.”
You thought for a moment.
“How do you feel about izakaya?” you asked. “There’s a street-side one not far from here that’s mostly outdoors. They’re good, and I think they’re still open.”
He nodded. “Do you go there often?”
You eyed him. “Oh no. If I tell you places I go, you apparently buy them out. The whole point of you being here is to prove that buying me things is stupid when we can just hang out.”
The corner of his mouth twitched like he was being told a joke you couldn’t hear. “Lead the way, then,” he said evenly.
You pulled him down a few blocks, expertly navigating your way through the winding city streets. You would never admit as much to him, but this place was one of your faves for good beer and cheap yakitori, and you could probably easily find your way both blindfolded and drunk. Shouto followed you easily, a tall, silent warmth at your back.
There were few people at the izakaya when you arrived, considering it was still a little early for dinner, and no one gave the two of you a second glance when you pulled back the curtains and helped yourselves to pair of stools in the corner of the stall.
“Okay, you have to get a beer and yakitori first," you said. "You can do whatever you want after, but the first round has to be that. Just trust me.”
“No vegetables?” Shouto asked.
You laughed. “I know that’s my brand. And there are good veggie side dishes. But there is nothing like fresh, warm, cheap yakitori and a really good beer, especially on a cool fall day like this. I know what I’m talking about.”
A soft smile pulled at his mouth. “So you do come here often.”
You stared up at him accusingly. “If you dare throw a single dollar at them, you’re in huge trouble. I know where you live.”
He smiled down at you. It was easier to notice how boyish his grin was when the rest of his face was hidden by his sunglasses, and heat flared in your cheeks. He was just so damn good looking.
It suddenly dawned on you how forward you’d been with him, sending him sassy texts and putting your hands all over him when you were attempting to stuff him into your university swag. Your relationship had progressed somewhat since that first book he’d bribed you with, but honestly, this was completely new ground for you.
Your face burned hotter. You’d been so, so inexcusably forward. Had you lost your mind?
Shouto seemed to be thinking about the hat as well. “So, do I look like a student at your university?”
You looked him up and down. Aside from your school’s name emblazoned across his baseball cap, he looked nothing like a student, too put together in his dark sweater and jeans that probably cost more than your monthly rent. You wondered if he’d even been within ten feet of an instant ramen cup in his entire life.
“Uh, no,” you said. “You look like someone forced you to wear a hat they panic purchased and it just so happened to be the least horrible one available.”
A smile played about his mouth again. “What were the other options?”
You grinned. “It was this one or a proud dad of a college grad cap.”
He let out a small huff of amusement. You smiled, then leaned forward as the man at the counter came over to take your order, making sure to cut Shouto off before he could attempt any rich boy tricks. You put in an order for two beers and what was probably a concerning amount of yakitori, then turned back to Shouto and almost fell off your stool when he was much closer than you’d expected.
“Do you have a teleportation quirk I don’t know about?” you asked, internally panicking at his proximity. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of him and catch the scent of his cologne, light and fresh and disturbingly good.
He smiled that boyish smile again and your heart suddenly forgot how to do its job, freezing in your chest. “It’s cold.”
You rolled your eyes. “You have a fire quirk.”
You felt the air grow a little warmer around the two of you. “I meant for you,” he said.
You were torn between relaxing into the sudden warmth and freezing up in embarrassment. It was beginning to dawn on you just how attentive and thoughtful he always was, and you wondered vaguely if the gift giving was actually just a really extreme manifestation of that personality trait. Maybe being an awkward rich boy with a weird way of making friends was just part of the issue.
Your heartbeat suddenly kicked into overdrive. He was already so overwhelming to look at, incredibly brave, such a good listener, and way too easy to talk to. You did not need to pile on other endearing qualities to the frankly alarming number of things feeding into what was quickly becoming the fattest crush of your lifetime. Did he have to be so good all the time?
A hand suddenly reached out, pulling you closer so that you were practically fused to his left side. You stiffened, resisting the urge to curl into the warmth pouring off of him in thick waves.
Not good, this was so not good.
“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, tongue thick, like you were speaking through a mouthful of applesauce. “I’m wearing the scarf you got me.”
Shouto tilted his head, and though you couldn’t see his expression behind the sunglasses, something like satisfaction curled the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he said in his deep tone, “but this will help too.”
“Really, you’re my friend not my personal space heater,” you insisted, trying to squirm away from him. “You don’t need to do this.”
He flared hotter, and a strong arm went around the back of your chair, halting your escape. “I don’t mind,” he said.
God it was like he didn’t even know what effect he had on people. People, of course, being cleaning ladies with twitters full of zoomed in pictures of his abs. It was not good for your health to be this close to him, couldn’t he just let you sit ten thousand miles away from him where both of you would be a little safer?
The izakaya owner interrupted this train of thought, pushing two beers and a plateful of yakitori between the two of you.
You instantly seized on the distraction, bringing a beer to your mouth to give you a couple moments for your brain to turn on again. It was refreshingly cold, and the flavor was nostalgic, tasting like breaks after class with friends and late nights stumbling back after several rounds of karaoke and drinking. You wondered now if, in the future, you would taste it and think back to the one time you’d hung out with Shouto Todoroki.
“It’s good,” Shouto said, looking at you over the rim of his own beer.
You smiled. “I told you.”
Then you shoved a stick of yakitori at him. “Now eat this and tell me I was right about it too.”
His fingers slid along yours as he took the stick from you, calloused and warm. “...You were right about this too,” he said after managing a bite.
You felt yourself puff up. “Of course I was.”
He smiled and helped himself to the rest. With the food and drink absorbing some of your attention, you were able to calm down somewhat, and the conversation returned to normal, you doing your best to forget about the sinfully warm arm curled around your back.
Here, too, Shouto was absurdly easy to talk to, the new venue doing nothing to dull his charm or the easy way that he pulled information out of you with a few, short, well-placed questions. Over the course of a few hours, you worked your way through a few beers and several more side dishes, the conversation never letting up. Shouto was just as intelligent and thoughtful as ever, and he made you laugh with a couple of unexpectedly short tempered comments. Even the discovery that he was not as princely as he usually seemed just fanned the flames of your crush.
It was only when the people around you began to shuffle off of their stools and pack up that you realized how late it had grown, and that you’d spent the entire evening hanging out and talking.
Shouto helped you off your stool when you stumbled a little, the number of beers you’d consumed suddenly making themselves known. “You’re more of a lightweight than I would have guessed by the conversation,” he teased.
You looked up into his face, realizing that he’d shed the sunglasses at some point during your conversation and you hadn’t noticed. Had anyone else noticed? No one had come over asking for an autograph. Maybe he was so unexpected at a place like this that the hat had been enough of a disguise.
You blinked, realized you’d been staring. “Nonsense, I’m a pro. I’ve put in many more beers at this place.”
Then your eyes narrowed at the slow movement his hand was making along the counter, what looked suspiciously like a stack of bills underneath. That little shit.
“Are you trying to distract me?” you demanded, grabbing his hand and stuffing the money back into it. “This is on me. I haven’t paid for groceries in weeks, thanks to somebody.”
Shouto smirked, looking strangely pleased with himself. His hand curled around yours, and his other came up to take your free hand. It was only when he’d transferred both of your wrists into one large palm that you realized what he was doing, plopping down a handful of bills on the counter quickly with his free hand, then pulling your backpack over your shoulder and tugging you away from the izakaya before you could make a scene. You’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered.
“I’ll take you home,” he said, steering you back out into the street. “Give me your address.”
“Shouto,” you whined, “this whole evening was supposed to be about proving you don’t need to spend money to be my friend. We were supposed to hang out.”
“We did hang out,” he pointed out, looking down at you from under the rim of that ridiculous baseball cap. “Your point was very much made.”
It was a testament to how tipsy you were, probably, that this warmed you. You forgot your annoyance with him almost immediately. “Really?”
He huffed a laugh. “Really. Now give me your address so I can take you home.”
You did and he plugged it into his phone. Then he led you along with one hand curled around yours. You spent the whole walk musing on how warm his fingers were in yours, how much larger his hands seemed than yours. Why was even his stupid hand so nice?
It was only as Shouto walked you to the door of your apartment that you remembered the last thing you’d gotten for him in the campus store. You quickly unzipped your backpack, shoving the bouquet of flowers at him.
“For you,” you said, pressing them into his chest. “You got me those flowers. These ones aren’t as nice, but I thought that you should have some too.”
He stared down at you, something strange glinting in his eyes. “You got me flowers.”
“Do you not like them?” you asked nervously. Was it weird to give a guy flowers? It was probably weird…
“I like them,” he declared, and a genuine smile flickered across his mouth. His eyes looked a little brighter, and his gaze was growing more intent by the second. “Now, you should probably get inside before I forget my manners.”
Forget his manners? You stared up at him in confusion.
He looked down at you for a long moment, and then he was suddenly very close, his face dipping down to yours.
“Get inside,” he said quietly, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. “Please.”
You nodded, swallowing. You had just enough presence of mind to turn and unlock your door. Shouto guided you gently inside with a hand on your back, and then stepped back outside, smiling.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he said.
You waved. “See you on Tuesday.”
You watched him make his way back down the street, only closing your door when you saw him turn the corner and disappear out of sight. Then you sank down against the door frame, heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of your chest.
Shouto was the most overwhelming man on this earth. You were in such big trouble.
825 notes · View notes
rightsockjin · 4 years ago
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Summary: Jungkook is the best friend anyone could ask for. He’d been there for you through thick and thin, and right now, you were looking extra thick and his patience was thinning...
Rating:M
Genre: SMUT! A good amount of angst...
Warnings: Mutual mastrabation, porn, big dick JK. Best friend pining. Pillow riding. Butts. Blow job. Spit. Finger licking? Is that a warning? 
Word count: 4,906
Author’s note: this has nothing to do with his boots...
It's been years. Literal years. Years in which Jungkook had questioned what the nature of your relationship was. Never did he truly have the confidence or the strength to so much as toe the line between what you already had and something more.
You were laying down on his bed, your socked feet pushed up against the lowest section of the attic ceiling . Your toes were pointed and your heels tapped softly on the wall, your legs flush against it. Your butt was pushed up against the pillows on his bed. The comforter was slightly pulled from the edges. He’d be upset. Really, he would be upset since he had this weird OCD about the neatness of his bed but his mind was blank.
He leaned back against his gaming chair right across from it and in front of his desk. His laptop  was firmly closed. His heart rate must have been 100 beats per minute. His hands were sweaty and a little slick from the lotion.
It was safe to say that he hadn’t expected you that day. Given, you come over whenever you feel like, he had hoped-no prayed, that he would have a solid hour or so to himself. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see you, it was just that seeing you was the cause of the issue that he was trying to resolve.
He’d been taking you to the gym with him lately and he was really starting to see results. Especially in your thighs and your butt. Now, he had always thought you were attractive which was what had led him to question his feelings for you in the first place, but now he was getting hard ons far too often when you were around and he was running out of excuses to get away and rub one out.
It seemed that the pillow under your butt was getting uncomfortable because you started to shimmy it to the side. Finally, you pulled it out from under you and set it longways on your body. Without seeming to think much of the action, you wrapped your legs and arms around it and cuddled into the fabric that he’d freshly washed.
Your butt stuck out behind you, in perfect view of Jungkook whose erection was straining painfully against his jeans. His mind wandered back to what he had been watching before you had so rudely barged into his room. A film, of sorts, with two equally consenting adults but their faces were blurred. The woman had a fantastic ass so as he stared at yours, it wasn’t hard to put your face where her’s should have been.
He spread his legs farther to try to give the thing between his legs room to breathe but his jeans only strained over the rock hard rod. He needed to get you out of his room. He needed some relief.
“Hey,” he said, his voice cracking almost comically. He cleared his throat quickly, hoping you missed the sound but when your head snapped to look at him he knew you wouldn’t let it go.
“HeY,” you mimicked, rolling over to face him and onto your knees, your legs straddling his pillow as you sat back on your heels. The light from the attic window outlined you from behind, like a spotlight shining from almost directly behind as the sun began to set. He couldn’t help but scan your body in a position a little too sexual to be accidental. His eyes stopped on your torso. The white shirt that had been perfectly fine only seconds before now seemed extremely see through. In mock slow motion, you reached up and pushed your hair from one shoulder to the other. The shirt rode up slightly revealing what looked like thin black ribbons of fabric that wrapped around your ribs.
Jungkook’s dick pulsed where it was squished. He balled his hands into fists on the arms of his chair and forced himself not to react, though arousal thrummed through his body like a wildfire.
“Why are you such a bitch,” he groaned, channeling his arousal into annoyance as he’d recently taken to doing. It had the added plus side of making you so angry sometimes that you’d just leave him alone until he apologized which went hand in hand with when he’d finished himself off in the comfort of his own room.
“Geez, I’ve been here for five minutes and already you’re being rude.”
Jungkook groaned and rolled his eyes at you plastering a patronizing look on his face.
“Maybe it's because you came in and fucked up my sheets,” he said, waving his tattooed hand around you. You looked down, a small frown on your face as you saw the little tornado of blanket you had disturbed.
“It’s not that bad…”
Damn you. Damn you and your stupid cuteness. You shifted in your position, holding onto the pillow and spreading your legs wider in an attempt to smooth it out slightly. You probably didn’t mean it. Jungkook told this to himself over and over as you moved. From his perspective, it looked a little like you were humping the pillow. With your lip between your teeth and your brow furrowed in concentration, it wasn’t hard to imagine that you were instead pleasuring yourself before him.
Subconsciously, one of his hands slithered closer to his bulge. It was when he felt it on his thigh near his center that he froze and sat on both his hands instead. He could feel his underwear becoming wet with precum, a small wet spot appearing on his jeans.
“Just-just stop, Y/n! I’ll fix it later. I’m going to have to fucking do my laundry again…” he muttered more to himself than to you but you had clearly heard it, letting out a little hmph.
“Damn. You’ve been such a huge dick lately. I don’t know what your problem is but if you’re going to be exuding this much small dick energy, I don’t wanna be around you anymore.”
Jungkook glared at you. Your arms were now crossed over your bosom, pushing them closer together. A little bit of cleavage visible over the neck of your shirt. How could someone be equal parts infuriating and attractive?
“Well no one’s asking you to stay here! I didn’t even invite you over,” he said turning his chair around with his bare feet so he was looking at his shut laptop.
“When have I ever had to ask to see you?” You asked.
He had severely miscalculated his turn. He bumped his knee hard against one of the legs of the desk. His laptop bounced threateningly close to the edge but stopped just short of falling.
“I don’t know? Maybe you should start! You’re fucking rude sometimes!”
Jungkook didn’t dare look back. His heart had stopped suddenly. It was like he was seeing himself from another vantage point and that him was yelling at the present him to shut the fuck up.
There was a silence from your end as well. Like you couldn’t quite believe what he’d said to you. Sure, you guys cursed back and forward at each other before but it was never serious. It was always in good fun, but this time it seemed a little close to home.
“Fine,” you said suddenly, his bed creaked as you made your way off of it, “I’ll leave. I just fucking missed you since we hadn’t spent time together lately… guess you outgrew me too.”
Jungkook’s heart sank to his stomach. What had he just done? A light sweat broke out on his forehead.
Say something idiot!
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
You were by his bedroom door now. He could see you out of the corner of his eyes but he couldn’t force himself to look at you.
“You’ve changed JK…you used to love to sing, and your friends. You used to have a closet full of white shirts and hated being called oppa. You used to love banana milk and your Timbs… you used to love me…but I guess,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping and what looked like tears started to run down your cheeks, “like the rest of those things… you outgrew me as well.”
Your thin hand reached out to grasp the door knob but Jungkook chose then to act. He jolted off his chair not caring what he hit on the way, he was next to you in two steps.
“Wait Y/N-” but he was cut off by metallic thud and a loud drawn out female moan. All the blood in his body drained. His hand stayed perpetually frozen in the air between him and yourself. The tears on your cheeks ran freely but the shock on your face contradicted that emotion.
Neither of you moved. Another, rather loud moan filled the attic room. It bounced off the poster covered walls and seemed to bounce off the walls of his skull as well. Had he really been watching his ahem…films that loudly? How had you not heard it before you walked in?
“Fuck,” the video yelled and it was like someone had pressed play on both of you. Jungkook’s eyes widened and he rushed back to pick up the fallen computer. You hissed awkwardly looking at the wall to avoid eye contact.
Jungkook shut the computer faster than he thought was humanly possible. The sound cut off just as the woman was getting rammed from behind and her moans were cut coming out short and breathy.
It was when he had set the computer carelessly back on his desk that it hit him hard. You had just witnessed that. Where did you go from there?
He chuckled, because he didn’t know what else to do and the tension in the small room was starting to choke him and honestly that wasn’t one of his kinks so he needed to put an end to it.
“I interrupted you…didn’t I?” Your voice was soft and devoid of emotion. Jungkook chanced a glance at you, his hair covering his eyes slightly. If he pretended it was no big deal then maybe you would take the hint and make it no big deal as well.
“Yep.”
“Oh,” you said, ”Oh! Shit! I’m sorry! No wonder you were so pissy! I would be too if you came over in the middle of-” you clapped your hands over your mouth, your eyes wide and your cheeks red.
That was not a picture that Jungkook had even considered. But suddenly, it was all he could see. You, completely naked in your slightly messy room, your toes curling and uncurling as your fingers pumped in and out of your warm entrance. Your hair, cascaded on your pretty shoulders as your other hand pinched at your nipple. That enticing lip of yours between your teeth and little breathy moans coming out of your lips just like the ones he’d just heard.
His dick twitched again. He was unsuccessful this time in keeping his groan in his throat. It hung in the air between you like an invitation that he regretted sending instantly but he couldn’t take back. You turned slowly to face him.
“Did-did you just-”
“N-no! I didn’t! I-”
“You totally just-”
“Y/N!”
“What?” You asked forcefully, taking a step towards him.
“Please stop… this is humiliating enough without you pointing out that I-”
“Moaned at the thought of me masturbating?”
You’d said it. Somehow, he knew there was no going back. You had ventured past the metaphorical line together, maybe not in the way he’d wanted but here was the chance he’d been looking for. He either pushed you away indefinitely, or took the chance to see if you could do something more with the foundation you had built together.
“Okay fine, so it turned me on a little. So what? I’m a guy! Do you forget or something?”
You blinked at him, biting your lip and furrowing your eyebrows. A shock of arousal burst through him at the sight.
“Can you please stop doing that? You’re making it really hard to keep my hormones under control,” he begged looking up at the ceiling. The light in the room had significantly dimmed. It was making it difficult for him to see you properly.
“What if I want it to be hard,” you whispered so softly he wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly.
“What if you- if you…wait what?” He needed to hear you say it again. He needed to be sure he didn’t hear you incorrectly.
“What if,” you took a deep breath, “what if I want to make it hard for you to keep your hormones at bay?”
Jungkook.exe has stopped working. Error #6969. Recalibrating.
His mouth hung open. The gears in his brain had ground to a stop. There was no way he had heard what he thought he’d heard.
You looked at him expectantly. Hope in your wide eyes. Jungkook swallowed loudly, clicking his mouth shut.
Drooling isn’t attractive.
He scrambled around for some words to say back to you. Anything to say to you that expressed what he was feeling. Maybe a ‘hell yeah’ or a simple ‘okay’. But he couldn’t make his mouth move. His penis pressed against his jeans painfully.
“P-pardon?”
Nope. Not the optimal thing to say. Not even a little close to what he wanted to say. You were right. He was exuding small dick energy and you were projecting the complete opposite.
“You know what? Never mind… let’s just pretend that I didn’t say that and I’ll leave you alone to sort yourself out,” you mumbled under your breath reaching for the door knob again, but this time Jungkook was much quicker and there was no laptop to distract him. He clasped his hand over your wrist before you could turn the knob.
You snapped your head to look at him, the blush still prominent on your cheeks as you looked up at him. There was fear and embarrassment in your pretty eyes. Jungkook didn’t know what he was going to do but he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
“Wait! Uh… what if I told you that it’s been hard?”
It was your turn to look confused. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow relaxing your body slightly.
“What’s been hard?”
With an embarrassed hiss Jungkook said, “It’s been hard… my um…you know?”
You searched his face as if you could read his emotions and thoughts on it like a book. After a couple of seconds of tense silence, the muscles in your face relaxed and your confidence seemed to rise.
“Oh…really?” Jungkook nodded without hesitation. The fact that you hadn’t run screaming spurred him on, hoping that if he was honest he could maybe get somewhere with you, even if it was short term.
“Do you…would you want some help? With that?”
Your eyes were focused on his own but it felt like you could see right through him. The sun had fully set and the only light was coming from the stars and the moon outside the attic window. He was grateful, really. It did a good job of hiding his major dorkiness.
“You…you want to help?”
You hummed, a sound so low and even that It sent shivers down his spine. Just the thought of seeing you naked was enough to have him twitching like crazy.
“Yeah… Why watch porn on a screen when you could watch IRL right?”
Jungkook.exe has stopped working again. Error #6970. Rebooting system in progress. Were you really offering-
“I mean… you could do it as well! We could both… and you can tell me what to do if that’s what you’re into? Or we could just watch each other -hmph-” Jungkook slammed an open palm against the wall effectively pinning you between his toned body and it.
His breath was warm against your cheek. His chest was barely grazing your own. A jolt of fear and arousal hit you hard as you looked up at your best friend of many years. If someone had told you days ago that you would be propositioning Jungkook the way you were now, you would have laughed in their face. But that was then and this was now, and now you knew much more information than you did then.
“It’s the least you can do,” he whispered against your ear, “you did ruin my sheets. Give me a good reason to have to wash them.”
You looked back and forward between his eyes, searching for any hesitance. When you found none and he put his hand down, gently caressing your cheek with his knuckles, you realized that this was actually happening in real time and not in one of your many daydreams.
Jungkook nuzzled his lips on the shell of your ear before he sucked the lobe into his mouth. He nibbled lightly, pressing his lower body against yours. You could feel his erection against the lower part of your stomach. You gasped. It felt big. Really big and unbelievably hard.
His big hand found your waist easily. He held you against the wall and gingerly ground his hips into you. He let out a shaky exhale against your neck. One hand traveled up your torso. He could feel the thin ribbons he had seen earlier under his fingertips. He traced them softly. Inevitably, they lead him to your clothed chest. It didn’t take long for him to realize that you weren’t exactly wearing a proper bra as your nipples were already poking out of the thin fabric of both your shirt and bralette.
Jungkook ran a thumb over the sensitive bud. It was feather light but it ignited the fire that had been steadily burning over the last couple of minutes. You gasped softly as he did it once more and nibbled at your pulse point. His breath was hitting your neck, his hips still rotating sensually on your lower belly.
When you didn’t touch him back, Jungkook panicked. Had he gone too far? He stopped his hand at your chest and pulled away from your neck. A bit of worry was evident on his face.
“Is…is this okay?”
You nodded quickly, not wanting him to stop. He smiled brightly, clear excitement in his expression, then pulled away from you entirely. You tried to hold back your disappointment as you watched him back away.
“Hey we’re not done yet,” he assured, his teeth on display, “I’m just taking you up on your offer.” He shrugged as he lowered himself back on his desk chair. His legs were spread wide, his feet firmly planted. He was slouched against the back of it with an expectant look. Slowly, he unzipped his pants and slid them part of the way down.
Even in this darkness, you could see the enormous bulge in his underpants. Your mouth salivated, something primal awakening at the sight. You wanted to touch him. You wanted to eat him alive, but you didn’t move, still a little confused as to what you were supposed to do.
Jungkook palmed himself over the fabric. His face screwed up into a slightly pained expression. Like even this much stimulation was too much.
You swallowed thickly as you watched his head loll to the side. He was sexier than in your dreams. Sexier than you could have even imagined.
“Well?” he asked, looking at you through lidded eyes, “Get comfortable on my bed babe.”
As if you were in a trance, you walked over back to the bed and sat on the edge trying to think of what to do to entice him. You had pictured this moment so many times, but in every single one, he was on top of you or touching you in some way. You had never thought about him wanting to watch you touch yourself.
In a spurt of confidence, you pulled off your shirt revealing the infamous, barely there, black bralette. You rolled your shoulders back and pushed your chest out so he could better admire it and you weren’t disappointed. Jungkook’s mouth fell open at the sight. A quiet fuck escaped his lips and his hand tightened around his bulge.
“You like?” you asked cheekily with a wink.
“Duh,” he answered rolling his eyes, “Take off the sweat pants.”
You raised your eyebrows at him but did as he asked. Still, this was your best friend, you couldn’t help but be a bit bratty.
“Damn you’re so bossy. I’m doing you a favor JK.”
Jungkook laughed at that, pushing his pants fully off of him as he watched you strip yours.
“Annoying as always. Why did I think you would change that in the bedroom?”
“You love it,” you argued, spreading your legs wide, finally free of your pants. The black, silk underwear you were wearing on full display. You set your hands on your knees to keep your legs spread. The light of the stars seemed to catch every curve and edge of your partially exposed body. You smirked as you looked at your best friend. He was manspreading, his chest rising and falling quickly, like he’d just finished working out.
“I can’t argue with that…” he said blinking rapidly as if you would disappear after he closed his eyes, “Take off your bra.”
“Hell no. I’m more naked than you are, take off your shirt Jeon,” you argued, snapping the edge of your underwear to your skin as a punctuation.
“Hey! You said I could tell you what to do,” he groaned already reaching for the edge of his shirt.
“I changed my mind. If you’re not going to be fair then I’m calling the shots.”
“Whatever,” he groaned, his abs out in the open, but he didn’t stop there. In one fluid motion, he yanked off his underwear. His dick sprung up against his stomach, long and thick. Even in the blue tinted darkness, you could see how angry the tip looked.
“Happy now?” He asked wrapping his hand around his penis and giving it a solid tug that made him screw up his face again, “your turn.”
You said nothing, instead, you pulled down one of the black cups of your bra so your boob hung out in the open for him to see. Then, with not nearly as much grace as him, you tugged your underwear off and sat back farther on the bed.
“Damn,” Jungkook whispered, “you’re so…” he paused looking kind of embarrassed, “beautiful.”
You blushed, not at all expecting him to give you such a genuine compliment based on what you were doing right then, but you took it nonetheless and smiled.
“Hey,” he said before you could thank him, “do you think you could, uh… ride my pillow?”
You blinked at him, then looked at the pillow behind you that you had been cuddling earlier. Jungkook was anal about his pillows being clean so this request really took you by surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah… please?”
“Okay,” you agreed but you only moved the pillow closer to you and hiked a leg up on his mattress. Your lips were spread enticingly and you curved a finger so he could come closer. Jungkook did as you asked, his hand wrapped firmly around his member and stroking it. He stopped a couple of inches short of his bed, his eyes fixated on your core.
With one finger, you traced from your opening up to your clit. The coldness of your own hand sent a shiver up your spine. You whimpered, doing it again but with two fingers, collecting your arousal. Jungkook watched, enraptured by what was between your legs. The scent of you making him twitch uncomfortably.
“Wanna taste?” you asked him holding your fingers out in front of his lips. His eyes widened and he nodded leaning in quickly and taking your fingers in his mouth. His tongue worked to collect all of your juices. It felt heavenly. You could already imagine what it would be like to have his mouth between your legs, but that was a venture for another time.
When he had finished, you pulled your fingers back and onto your core. With his saliva coating your digits, it wasn’t hard to slip them into your heat. Your walls fluttered around them as you pumped in time to his hand around his shaft.
You let little mewls escape past your lips as Jungkook moaned at the sight. With your other hand, you began to rub at your clit. A shock of pure pleasure nestled in your stomach. You drew tight little circles around it. Your legs twitched with impatience.
“Ngh… Jungkook,” you moaned letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook’s hand sped up on his erection. The sound of his fist on it turned you on a little.
“Fuck, Y/N… can I ask you a favor?”
You stopped your fingers on your core and looked up at him. He looked down at his sex then back at you awkwardly gesturing at it.
“Could you…maybe get it a little wet?”
“Yeah,” you said enthusiastically, pulling your fingers from your entrance and changing your position. You pushed the pillow between your legs and spread your lips apart so the fabric was nuzzled right against your sensitive bits. Then, slowly you pressed your wet fingers to his lips again and whispered, “suck.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jungkook half joked but the thrill it sent through you was nothing to laugh at. He took your hand in his own and put your fingers back in his mouth. You leaned down over his member and began to fervently lick around it, using your other hand to stroke your spit into his skin. He tasted vaguely of baby powder and lotion which you assumed was what he was using to masturbate before.
You gave his tip a couple of good generous licks before you sucked at his slits. His precum was salty against your tongue and he casually bucked his hips up into you but you held him down. His lips on your hand stuttered and fell open.
You pulled your fingers from his lips and you used both hands to hold him down as you greedily sucked. Loud, prolonged moans came frequently from Jungkook. Maybe it was because he was so worked up but you could already feel his dick twitching like crazy. Slowly, you began to build your own pleasure with the pillow between your legs, rubbing your soaking slits on it back and forward. The pleasure made you moan around him which made him groan and choke on the sound.
Suddenly, you felt his hand on your back, traveling lower until it was on your ass. He squeezed it slightly, jiggling it and pushing you forward on the pillow. You pushed back against him sending another shock of pleasure directly to your clit. His other hand found its way to your chest. His finger tweaking your sensitive, exposed nipple and rubbing circles on the areola.
You took a bit more of his erection in your mouth, spit dribbled down yours lips and onto him. You did your best to slurp it up, lewd noises floated around you both. Jungkook’s melodic moans filling the room like music.
You found yourself close to the edge faster than you anticipated. Jungkook continued to aid you in your pleasure, bucking his hips slightly as you sucked him off with care. You ran your fingers over his toned abs, abs that you had wanted to lick since the day you saw them and the thought alone pushed you so close it was painful.
“Fuck Y/N… I love you…” That did it. Your walls clenched around nothing, blood pumped into your clit at an alarming speed, your mouth fell open, wide around his cock and it fell straight into the back of your throat setting off your gag reflex. You moaned erotically against him. The pleasure filled your every nerve as Jungkook gasped and twitched then stilled.
Ropes of hot cum hit your tongue, some making it into your throat, some spilling onto his pelvis as he orgasmed. You both came down from your high, nearly together. With his dick still in your mouth, you slurped at the remaining cum around him.
He hissed and tried to push your head off of him but you didn’t stop until you had licked it all up. When you pulled away and sat up so you could see him, his words sunk in. Jungkook loved you? As more than just a friend?
It seemed that it had just dawned on Jungkook what he had let slip as well. His cheeks darkened in the faint light of the moon and he couldn’t look at you. There you both sat, almost entirely naked, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pillow soiled with your orgasmic juices and the words hung out like an invitation that he’d regretted sending but couldn’t take back.
“I love you too,” you whispered.
Fireworks erupted all over Jungkook’s chest, his lips pulled up into his bunny like smile, his toned chest rose and fell with the quick pace of his heart. The explosion was so powerful that fireworks didn’t even seem like the right word for what he was feeling as he lunged forward and sandwiched your lips between his.
No, not fireworks. It was something more like Dynamite.
Read the rest here!
Part 2
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cheri-translates · 4 years ago
Text
[CN] Gavin’s Returning from Afar Date (Eng Translation)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 远归之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
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[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]
This is the 29th day of Gavin’s mission, and also the day he said he’d return. 
As agreed, I’m in Gavin’s house to water Little Spiky. Since I’m already here, I also tidy up the place, which hasn’t been habited for a month.
MC: Mm, its rootstocks are healthy, the colour is lush and green, and it’s growing well. Now to put it under the sun.
I carry it to the window carefully, letting it soak in sunlight.
My line of sight lingers on the wind chimes hanging near the window. I reach out to pull at the crystal piece. 
The bright and limpid crystal suddenly sends my consciousness back to the week before Gavin departed for the mission. 
[ flashback ]
The afternoon wind blows the curtains upwards, brushing across the crystal shoes glittering on the floor.
If one were to ignore the slight scratch at the back, this would have been a perfect souvenir.
I squat on the floor, one hand holding the “main culprit” - the broom, and another hand gripping my phone, giving the manufacturer a call while feeling upset. 
MC: Hello? I’m the person in charge of [MC’s Company Name]. We held an activity and ordered crystal shoes from your company. Do you still remember that? 
Person in charge: Miss MC, right? I remember, I remember. Do you want to collaborate with us for another event? 
MC: Ah, actually, one of the crystal shoes has a scratch on its back. I wanted to ask if it’s possible to fix it? 
Person in charge: Hmm... Because of the way it was designed, that batch of crystal shoes were specially handled, so traditional restoration works won’t be effective. But since you’re a regular client of our company, we can send you a pair based on the address you gave us. 
MC: ...no need for the trouble. Since it can't be restored, it’s fine. Thank you.
I hang up, a little disappointed. 
In the midst of cleaning up, I had accidentally scratched the crystal shoes Gavin gave me the other time. 
[Note] MC is referring to Gavin’s 2 Become 1 Date, which is available in EN.
Although the damage is slight, it’s not something I can just ignore.
While sighing, I store the crystal shoes back into the box, and place it in the cabinet. 
At this moment, a low knocking sound resounds from the door.
When I open it, I see that the person standing at the door is Gavin.
Light and shadows are cast on his profile, illuminating his sharp and soft eyes.
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Gavin: What are you busy with? 
He walks in while speaking. Without him noticing, I prod the the box containing the crystal shoes further into the shoe cabinet. 
MC: I was doing a cleanup, but it’s almost done. 
Gavin responds with a “Mm”. He seems to hesitate, then walks over and takes my hand in his, his thumb rubbing it gently.
Gavin: I have a mission in a few days. It’s of a high level, so you might not be able to contact me for a while.
I freeze for a moment, subconsciously recalling how Eli had previously detailed the dangers of Gavin’s missions.
MC: ...is the level of danger very high as well?
Gavin: Mm, it’s a little dangerous. Which is why I have to go. 
He pauses, then continues. 
Gavin: You don’t need to worry. Before the 30th of next month, I’ll definitely be back.
He speaks confidently. Suppressing the worry in my heart, I give him a smile.  
MC: All right. I’ll take care of Little Spiky. And will wait for you to come back.
[ end of flashback ]
The wind chime clangs, its melody light-hearted and lively. However, I can’t help but sigh. 
For some reason, the second day after Gavin left, I discovered that the crystal shoes in the cabinet had disappeared.
I searched the house, but couldn’t find a trace of them. In the end, my guess was that a thief had stolen them.
Even after pondering over it a hundred times, I remain puzzled about the thief’s motives, and couldn’t fathom how a thief could have broken in. To be safe, I ended up changing the lock. 
MC: When Gavin returns, should I tell him about this...
All of a sudden, the wind outside grows stronger, causing a magazine on the table to flip open with a rustle. 
MC: What’s this? 
I walk over, holding up the magazine. I flip through it randomly, and wind up on a page which has been folded. 
It features a custom-made jewellery shop.
The vibrant front cover is incompatible with the cold colours of Gavin’s house. On the page, the eye-catching font forms the shop’s name - “Cang Xing”.
[Note] 苍星 (“cang xing”) directly translates to “dark green star”.
MC: Isn’t this the private studio which opened recently?
In a program not too long ago, I got to know about this shop. Although its prices are hefty, and the workmanship takes quite a long time, it has a very good reputation. 
I find myself getting confused.
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MC: Is Gavin interested in this shop too...
The phone suddenly rings.
Designer: Hello. Is this Miss MC? I’m a designer from Cang Xing. Previously, a customer ordered a gift for you. May I know if you have time to drop by and have a look today?
MC: A gift? 
My eyes flit to the magazine in my hands, a vague guess surfacing in my heart. 
MC: All right, I’ll head over now. 
-
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Pushing open the doors to the studio, it’s as though I’ve stepped into another world. 
Soft white muslin can be seen everywhere. Jewellery of various colours can be seen on the ivory tables, brilliant like stars in the dark night. 
The table near the entrance has visitors’ book. The designer doesn’t seem to be around, so I instinctively pick up a pen and flip it open, planning to write my name down.
After signing my name and preparing to shut the book, I suddenly see familiar handwriting. 
On the upper section of this page, amongst a mix of illegible and serious font, there’s a handsome and light-hearted one. 
It’s Gavin’s.
The date that he filled in was the third day before he left for the mission.
??: May I know if you’re Miss MC? 
A staff dressed in working attire walks towards me.  
MC: Mm, I’m MC. 
??: Nice to meet you, I’m the designer who talked to you over the phone earlier. Please follow me. 
I follow the designer’s directions and walk towards a reception area at the side. 
Several pink jasmines are scattered on the table of the reception area. At the side, there’s a long white silk ribbon, looking as though it’s been tied halfway.
MC: Is there an event happening in the store today? 
Designer: No, there isn’t. These were leftover flowers from an earlier event. I just thought to use them to decorate the shop. I didn’t expect you to reach so quickly, so I was only halfway done with the decorations. 
The designer explains in embarrassment. 
MC: I see. Oh yes, you mentioned a custom-made gift in the call...
The designer casts a glance towards the door, her expression turning apologetic.
Designer: Well... I have to wait for the customer who ordered it to arrive before I can tell you. I’m really sorry about that. 
I nod my head pensively. Looking at the unfinished decorations, I break the silence. 
MC: Since I have to wait, why don’t I help you with the decorations? 
Designer: How could I ask that of you!
MC: It’s fine. Is this meant to be hung on the wall? 
While speaking, I pick up the jasmine flowers on the floor, and hand it to the designer. 
After that, we stand on the stools, hanging the jasmine flowers on the wall. The white muslin sways gently next to us.
At this moment, the door is suddenly pulled open. What follows is the sound of specially made boots. The footsteps are slightly hurried, and they pause not too far off. 
Gavin: Sorry, I arrived slightly later than scheduled. 
I lift my head abruptly, turning around and wanting to hop off the stool. But my coat gets stuck on a hook, which has jasmine flowers hanging on it. 
MC: !
Along with the sound of fabric ripping, a pulling force tugs me backwards, and there’s empty space beneath my feet.
MC: Gavin--
In a moment of desperation, the word slips my mouth.
A gust of wind blows up the white muslin. Accompanied by a calm laugh, a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist. 
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Gavin: [laughs] Don't worry, I won’t let you fall. 
Gavin catches me steadily. In the narrow and small world created by the soft, drifting muslin, he carries me and spins in half a circle. 
My torn coat is on the floor. Slightly embarrassed, I clasp a hand over the strap which has fallen off my shoulder.
Gavin sets me down. His gaze falls on my body lightly. Then, he hurriedly averts his line of sight. 
Gavin: [coughs] ...
The temperature in the room suddenly rises. Face flushed, I frantically search for the coat.
MC: ...where’s the coat?
Gavin: Over here.
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He picks up the coat and hands it to me, his eyes averted to the side, his ears tinged a slight red. I take the coat, but discover that it’s basically unwearable since the snag is too serious.
In the next second, a warm piece of clothing is draped over me. The texture feels slightly hard, and I can even still feel the cold insignia.
MC: ?
I lift my head to see that Gavin has taken off his uniform, revealing his white shirt underneath.
Gavin: Put mine on first.
He pulls the uniform more snugly around my body. His warm fingertips accidentally brush my collarbone, causing me to shiver.
Face flushed, I lower my head. But I catch sight of a ripped button on Gavin’s shirt. 
MC: What happened? Are you hurt? Are there any other places? Let me see...
Anxious, I’m just about to pry apart his shirt to check if there are any injuries on his body. 
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Gavin: ...
Gavin: I’m fine. 
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Gavin grips my hand to stop me, his cheeks slightly red. 
The designer had left without us realising it, leaving the private space to us. 
The surroundings are delicate and tranquil. Only the person before me carries with him a windy and frosty aura, his eyes lowered as he watches me quietly. 
[Note] Interestingly, the word used to describe Gavin’s aura, 风霜 (“feng shuang”) also has a figurative meaning to describe someone who has experienced hardships in life :’)
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MC: Let me have a look then. Only after I’ve verified it with my own eyes, I’ll believe that you’re not lying to me. 
I act in a fit of pique, angry and not understanding why he would still hide his injuries from me.
Gavin looks resigned. After a moment, his long and slender fingers touch his lapel, slowly removing one button.
His defined muscles come into view, revealing a lean figure. 
My hand gently brushes a wound on his shoulder blade which has already formed a scab, and my nose suddenly feels sour. 
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Gavin: It’s just a small wound, and it has already healed.
His gaze follows my hands and rests on the wound, then he pauses. 
After being silent for a while, I lower my head, mildly aggrieved, and speak. 
MC: Did you rush over from afar? Actually, you could have taken your time to come back. You didn’t have to... be afraid that I’d worry, and be so anxious. 
I hold onto Gavin’s hand. He hasn’t removed his gloves, and the touch feels as cold as ice, bringing with it a chill.
Gavin: It wasn’t far. 
He tries removing his gloves before holding me again. But I don’t release him, and I tighten my grip.
Gavin pauses. Then, his fingers curl slightly, encasing my hand in his. 
Gavin: The mission was completed earlier, so I came back. 
A smile dyes Gavin’s eyes. Then, he pinches my palm.
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Gavin: Let’s not talk about these things first. The gift I prepared for you - want to know what it is?
Looking at the mildly expectant expression on his face, I can’t help but store away my sour emotions, and snort with laughter.  
MC: I do want to know. So could Officer Gavin tell me what it is?
Gavin: You’ll know soon. 
-
MC: I didn’t think there would be a small showroom at the back of the private studio...
After pushing open the door inside the studio, what enters my vision is a glass showroom. 
The outer side of the showroom is constructed using glass, allowing sunlight to stream in, illuminating bouquets of pink jasmine flowers that have been strung up.
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Gavin: This is a small glass showroom originally used by the owner to allow customers to hold mock weddings. 
Gavin guides me to the centre of the showroom, brushing past the flower bouquets.
Gavin: But today, I’ve temporarily borrowed it. 
A gust of wind causes the fine gauze draped over the showcase in the middle to fall, revealing a pair of crystal shoes surrounded by flowers. 
The shoe now has a small gem embedded in the place which was scratched - brilliant, bright and sparkling. 
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MC: ...this is? What is it doing here?!
Gavin: When I went to your house the other day, I saw that you placed them on the shoe cabinet. 
I’m a little dumbfounded. 
MC: I thought I hid it in the box...
Gavin can’t help but laugh. 
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Gavin: Mm, you did hide it in the box. But your reaction was too obvious. In the span of a meal, you glanced at that area around ten times. So before I left, I took a look. 
This causes me to feel perplexed. 
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MC: So you were the one who secretly took the shoes away. I thought I lost them, and was depressed for so long. I also thought a thief stole them, and even changed the lock.
I mumble softly, but my eyes sneakily linger on that pair of fully restored crystal shoes. 
The unease from the scratched souvenir vanishes bit by bit, turning into a sweetened state of mind. 
Gavin: I searched for many places, but only this shop’s owner said he could use precious stones to try restoring the damaged area. 
Gavin: The date of the completed restoration could have been earlier, but I wanted to give them to you personally. 
Gavin: Which is why I asked the shop to give you call today. 
Gavin: [coughs] Even though it looks different from how it was before...
I interrupt him softly. 
MC: But I like it very much. 
Gavin stops, looking at me seriously with lowered eyes. 
Gavin: I did this because I didn’t want you to be unhappy over the damaged crystal shoes. 
Gavin: As long as you like it, that’s all that matters. 
His words land on my heart, rippling across it. 
Slightly flushed, my peripheral vision rests on the gem, which is reflecting specks of light. 
MC: Oh yes, what’s with this gem? 
Gavin: While I was on a mission, I passed by a shop and saw this gem through the window.
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Gavin releases an unnatural cough.
Gavin: At that time, I was about to return to help you with the amusement park wedding photoshoot. I thought it would be of use, so I bought it. 
Gavin: But after that, I didn’t have a chance to give it to you.
He seems to think about something, and laughs lightly. 
Gavin: I kept thinking about when would be an appropriate time to give it to you. 
Gavin: It just so happened that the shape of the gem needed by the owner tallied with this. 
Gavin: So it was used. 
He fixes his eyes on me, affectionate and gentle. 
Sunlight parts the layers of clouds, casting a warm shade. It’s as though I can clearly hear the sound of my own heart beating. 
The sound gradually grows louder, becoming more urgent, wanting to burrow its way out of my chest and tell the person in front of me how I feel right now. 
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MC: Although what I’m about to say may come across as being overly polite to you, I still have to say it. 
MC: Gavin, thank you.
Thank you for silently watching over my mood. Thank you for always returning to my side no matter where you go.
The white muslin drifts to and fro. My heart stirs, and I gently touch the muslin in front of me. Sunlight streams in.
My fingertips brush the soft white muslin, tracing the word “Gavin” on it. 
I turn my head to the side, blinking at Gavin a little playfully.
MC: This word - apart from it being your name, it also has another meaning.
 MC: It’s “courage”.
Gavin’s eyes pause on my face, as though he’s slightly shocked. But it quickly morphs into a smile which harbours starlight.
His smile leaves me in a daze. I turn back, pretending to be unaffected as I begin speaking softly. 
MC: Gavin, you are my courage. 
MC: You are the courage I have when I face life’s large and small twists and turns. 
MC: Next time, I’ll become a person who is stronger in heart, and won’t be dejected over such a trivial matter. 
MC: I’ll also work hard to become your courage and strength - to protect you from harm each time you go on missions. 
MC: Or... to sustain fewer injuries. 
I wave a fist towards Gavin as a display of my determination. The sunlight sifting in through the muslin is like a gentle filter, descending on Gavin slowly.
Having to part from each other and having gloomy moods are inevitable. But there’s one person who will ultimately make his way over to me, smoothening out all the anguish, leaving only happiness behind.
He will cross the mountains and rivers, walk across the clouds and the moon, to meet me at the brink of dawn. 
Gavin: [laughs] I got it. 
He turns his head, mimicking my earlier actions, lifting his hand to trace something on the white muslin.
MC: This is...
I try to decipher what he wrote, but can’t tell what it is. Confused, I look at Gavin. 
He puts his hand down, lifting his eyes to stare at me quietly. 
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Gavin: Protecting each other. 
His voice is loud and clear, reminiscent of a galloping breeze in autumn, crashing into my heart. 
Gavin: You are already my strength. 
Gavin: So I will keep protecting you, and everything you like. 
The numerous times of parting, the numerous mornings and evenings spent alone, now leave a sweet aftertaste.
MC: Gavin, I’m really happy now. 
MC: So happy that I feel as though the entire world is before me at this moment, and within reach. 
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Seeing my smile, Gavin lifts the white muslin between us, reaching out to bring me into his arms.
The coat draped over my shoulders slides off. The white muslin is akin to a gentle mist, gracefully drifting mid-air, then falling onto the both of us. 
Gavin holds my hand, encircling me in his arms. 
MC: Gavin...
The close and warm contact causes my face to heat up. I can’t help but call his name. 
But he isn’t in a hurry to respond. Instead, he lifts a hand, taking a strand of my hair into his palm, his gaze lingering on my face. 
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Gavin: Now, I’m the only person in your entire world. 
The delicate fragrance of pink jasmine slowly permeates the air. The temperature from our laced fingers is scalding. I tilt my head upwards, giving Gavin’s chin a careful peck.
MC: In that case, could I bribe my entire world to let me have this moment for a while longer?
In the next second, I feel warmth around my waist, and Gavin wraps me in his arms tightly. 
He lowers his head slightly, his fringe brushing my eyelashes. I can feel his steady, composed breaths. 
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Gavin: No matter how long it is, you can.
-
Phone call: here
-
🍒 Cheri’s elegant thoughts 🍒
HE PURCHASED A RING OKAY
NO ONE JUST BUYS A RANDOM GEMSTONE
HE HAD A RING ALL THIS TIME
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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cherrywoes · 4 years ago
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prologue. (acanthus.)
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SAKURA HARUNO LOST THE ability to use medical ninjutsu when she turned twenty.
There had been no warning, no sputtering of her chakra, no imminent sign that she was about to lose the very foundation that her newfound strength had been built upon. She woke up one morning to her squad members with their throats slit, one just barely clinging on to life—a Hyuuga, her pretty lavender eyes wide with shock and desperation—and when Sakura sealed her hands over her pale throat, intent to close the wound as best she could and haul ass back to Konoha, there was nothing. No pale green chakra to flood her systems, no pinpoint accuracy of healing down to the very cells, nothing—just razor sharp chakra, cutting so deeply into her teammate’s throat that it went far enough to decapitate her completely.
Sakura watched the light fade from her eyes with pale pink strands of hair blowing into her face on a warm, humid breeze.
She continued this for some time—accidentally murdering her teammates when they were on the brink of death. Fear kept her from telling Tsunade. Ego kept her from revealing she was not, in fact, the prized healer of Konohagakure anymore. Arrogance forbade her from admitting any harm she had done. Sakura made herself forge the stories of her teammates’ deaths when she couldn’t sleep, their eyes haunting her dreams and her not so kind hands wrapped around their throats. It kept her up at night, so every afternoon, when she returned from narrowly avoiding every single healing session that was tossed her way at the clinic, after pushing them off on overworked nurses and doctors on overtime, she took enough sleeping pills to kill a horse three times over just to rest.
The people in her dreams were faceless, then, and easier to deal with when she woke up.
“Forehead, you look like you’re about to pass out.” Ino’s long blonde hair was a bit too bright in the sunlight. It was shinier than it had ever been, flourishing under the happiness of a successful pregnancy. She glowed, and it was even in her personality. She was chipper, far more perky, and while her appetite was something to be feared, it didn’t stop her observative eye from catching on to the dark circles underneath her friend’s eyes or the sallow look of her face. “Are you alright? Is Tsunade making you run night shifts again?”
Sakura sighed and rested her forehead on the cool marble tabletop. It felt nice against her heated skin; heated as if it was under the sun of the Suna desert. Suna, where she had managed to disembowel her adorable teammate instead of stitching her leaking intestines back together. Suna, where she had been forced to kill her second teammate who had witnessed it to hide her secret and spread his limbs amongst their enemies before returning home. Suna, where that ninja probably still remained, rotting in the hot sun and being picked apart by vultures.
Ino, a concerned hum exiting her mouth, pressed a hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up! Sakura, how long have you been like this?”
She didn’t answer and pressed her cheek further against the table. Her hair, long, longer than she had ever had it before, the ends brushing past her waist, stuck to the side of her face and neck, clinging with sweat. Her thoughts were muddied and sluggish. An image of a face flashed through her mind—cute, chubby with baby fat, and eyes of the lightest Yamanaka blue—in livid color, doused in vermillion red seconds later, Sakura’s rough hands held over her injured eyes.
“I’m so tired of this, Ino,” Sakura sighed. It was mumbled and nearly incoherent, but the blonde caught it anyways, pressing an ice cold cloth to her forehead. “I’m so tired of killing my teammates.”
“What?” Ino’s voice was tight. The lights around her warped in and out of focus. “Sakura, what did you just say?”
Sakura couldn’t answer. She slipped into darkness, the faces of her victims—her teammates—floating seamlessly through her dreams, as if they had never died at all.
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Sakura spent the next four months in a cell. She was given subpar food—a multigrain bar, some vitamins, IV fluids to flush her system of the high doses of sleeping pills, water that tasted far too much like chlorine—and equally appalling care. When her chakra cuffs dug into her wrists, no one came to heal them, so they scarred over and opened back up in an endless repetition until they were permanent accessories to her skin, shiny and puckered and irritated. When her period did eventually come, spotty and unusually light at best, they gave her tiny packets of pads for her to stretch through months, and if she suffered several bacterial infections afterwards, they didn’t much care. Her hair had grown long and matted, unbrushed, and combing it with her fingers did nothing to help the endless matts and knots that had grown near her nape. Her clothes were the same ones she had gone in with, so they were dirty, threadbare, and practically dry rotting off of her body.
She felt she deserved it—this torture. She was only afforded the barest of luxuries—her food and IV—because she was, despite what she had done, the Hokage’s apprentice. Former apprentice now, she figured, since they had most likely discovered what she had done. Four months was enough to follow Sakura’s bloody trail all the way back to her twentieth birthday when she had been sent out on a mission. It was also enough to compare the discrepancies in her reports; enough to exhume the bodies of the dead and charge her with a dozen counts of murder, and recover the other bodies she had neglected to bring back.
When anyone did deign to visit her, it was to cross reference what she had said with the actual truth. She had no reason to lie, anymore, not when her little slip of the tongue in a delirious fever had gotten her caught in the first place.
“Haruka Hyuuga.” Sakura could recognize Kakashi even when he wore the ANBU mask and attempted to disguise his voice. His hair was impossible to hide—she had tried on several occasions to dye it, only for it’s unusual hue to spring back within a few days and nearly blow their cover. He was, at the moment, playing the role of Hound, but she knew once the mask was off he would be her former partner, former teacher, and broken hearted friend; because he, of all people, would believe it was his fault she had ended up in a cell just because she was too proud to say she was an awful human being. “Do you remember her?”
“Yes.” Sakura leaned back against the small wooden shelf that made up her bed. It was covered with a thin white sheet that wasn’t much in the way of comfort, but as a kunoichi it didn’t bother her like it would a normal civilian. She dragged her shoes across the concrete floor to break the lack of noise within her section of the underground jail cells. They had been ground down to the latex-polyester sole when she paced in boredom or dropped her heels and skidded them as she walked. “She was the last one… Someone had gouged out her eyes. Or tried to, I think; it was all a blur. It didn’t matter in the end, though. I couldn’t heal her.”
Kakashi—Hound—was quiet as he wrote something down in his tiny square notepad. “When did you first lose your medical ninjutsu?”
Her pale pink eyebrows furrowed. No one had bothered with this line of inquiry before, past merely wanting the knowledge of when she had lost it in the first place. Kakashi was usually there to interrogate her about her teammates, nothing more. “When I turned twenty; so, maybe six or seven months ago.”
“And you had no precursory signs beforehand to indicate you would lose it?”
“No.” She shook her head slowly and reached for the small metal tin cup he had placed in her cell. She was surprised to find it was filled with her favorite drink—apple juice, of all things—and cherished the tiny little sips of flavor she was granted. “It just… happened. I was healing—or I thought I was?—and then it wasn’t… healing. It was cutting, sharp as a razor’s edge. I couldn’t have stopped it if I had wanted to by then.”
“But you continued going on missions after that, knowing you would hurt others in your attempts to use medical ninjutsu again.”
“I didn’t think that. That I would hurt them.” Sakura paused and admitted, so quietly it was barely a whisper,”I thought it would come back if I tried hard enough.”
More scribbling, this time a little slower than the previous. “I think you tried hard enough after the second person you killed.”
Hound stuffed the notepad into his white flak jacket. With a cursory nod to the guard standing just out of her field of view, he was gone, vanishing in a puff of smoke that had Sakura’s eyes watering.
“You know what they’re calling you, right?” The guard goaded when he was certain there was no one to hear him. Sakura closed her eyes; she didn’t want to know what they were saying about her out there. “They’re calling you ‘Ninja Killer Sakura’. Like teacher like student, huh?”
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A few days later, her Strength of a Hundred seal was gone, as if it never existed in the first place. The vast amount of chakra she had stored within it was gone, spirited away from her body. No one had removed it from her; no one had sealed it while she had been asleep. It had just disappeared in the same way her medical ninjutsu had, in nearly the same fashion. The only clue she had that it had vanished was the faint tingling in her forehead, right between her brows—but something else was clearly there, because the next guard in her rotation was calling for a Nara guard before she could wonder what it was.
She found out, later, after being immobilized by a shadow technique and examined by a medic, that the symbol upon her forehead had changed into a crimson red spider lily. It was no larger than the diamond had been, but was more ornate and complex, with interlocking rings centered at the bottom and sun phases etched into said rings. When the rest of her chakra, the chakra she used to maintain her health, was sealed off because of it, she didn’t complain.
She deserved it, after all.
“I don’t know if I should kill you or slap you and kill you and revive you so I can kill you again.”
Her next visitor was Tsunade. She hadn’t expected her to visit her at all, much less come traipsing in her cell with clean clothes, a basin of water, shampoo, soap, new shoes, and a pair of scissors. While the Hokage was angry, Sakura wasn’t sure if it was her fondness for her keeping her alive or the fact that it would be fairly inconvenient for the Senju woman to kill her and dispose of her without the council’s input.
“What were you thinking, Sakura?” Tsunade whirled on her, scissors in hand. She watched them cautiously, fiddling with the scars on her wrists when they itched. “Really, I mean, what was going on inside your head? I had thought you of all people would be level headed and rational—”
“Rational went out the window when I lost the only power keeping me equal with Sasuke and Naruto, Shishou.” Sakura met her gaze head on, unflinching. Her eyes were dull mimicries of the once vibrant jade they used to be; she was tired, sick, and most of all, guilt was eating her alive. “I lost everything keeping me from drowning in the ranks of endless genin. And now I’ve even lost the Strength of One Hundred seal—I don’t think I’ve been level headed or rational for a while.”
“I see.” Tsunade sighed. “That’s good, then. We can plea insanity—”
“You’re helping me?” Sakura blurted incredulously, her first real show of emotion in months.
“Of course. It isn’t out of the goodness of my heart, though. If I had my way you’d rot down here for the rest of your life.” The Hokage crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders. “But I owe a certain teacher of yours a favor, so after this we’ll be more than even. Now clean up and get dressed so I can cut your hair. Your trial starts today.”
When the cell door slammed behind her, Sakura picked up a clean rag—the cleanest thing she’d seen in months—and dipped it into the water. It was pleasantly cool as she ran it along her neck experimentally, bringing with it the grime and dirt of four months without a shower. When it came back visibly stained, she soaked it clean and lathered it with soap and got to work.
When she finished with her body and hair, the basin was almost pitch black. She wasn’t very surprised. She had seen worse when she returned home covered in dried blood, mud, dirt, and various other secretions she would rather not recall due to the pungent odor. She smelled like mint and watermelon, a scent she purchased personally before she had been put in prison, and she was momentarily comforted by the smell until the stench of mildew crept past it.
Tsunade had provided her with a simple long sleeved turtleneck she had seen many ANBU wear underneath their flak jackets and a pair of slightly too large pants that she quickly realized were men’s pants. She tucked the shirt as best she could with the sagging waistline and pulled on the standard issue civilian shoes (flats, uncomfortable on her high arches), and felt like an entirely new person. Clean, renewed, with clothes that didn’t smell like death and underwear that wasn’t blood stained for once, she felt a little bit of the old Sakura creep back in like a breath of fresh air.
When her former teacher returned and began hacking away at the giant knots in the back of her head, she allowed the faintest, most miniscule thread of hope to worm its way into her heart.
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masterlist ❚ 一 (ichi)
a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something out of my comfort zone (at least moderately; it's very tame compared to what i normally write.) feedback is appreciated! i just let the words flow and didn't take it too seriously. <3
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peachyteabuck · 5 years ago
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ceo chronicles. pt iii ~ wanda maximoff
series summary: a set of fics based off of the main au of sugar baby/mommy or daddy dynamics and ceo aus. each fic involves a separate universe wherein each character is the ceo of a different company and you’re their sugar baby. sexy times ensue.
fic summary: something goes very, very wrong at one of wanda’s business dealings. you are left to help her pick up the pieces - no matter what that means. 
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
words: 2398
trigger warnings: possessive wanda, anger-fucking, collars, spreader bars, riding crop, ball gags
notes/other: this was done for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor ‘s “old hollywood” writing challenge, my prompt was “Must I always wear a low cut dress to be important?” - Jean Harlow and has been bolded within the fic!
ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi
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Wanda storms into the penthouse, her stiletto heels clacking against the dark, hardwood floors.
She’s angry, furious – and whether or not it’s aimed at you doesn’t matter, your heart picks up in your chest either way.
“That two-timing sun of a bitch!” she screams, throwing her purse on the ground. Her coat follows shortly.
You watch her, eyes wide in terror, as you stand in the kitchen. She bought the place for its open floor plan and, initially, you had liked it too.
Now, though, with nothing to hide behind, you regret not going with the more closed space in SoHo.
“That motherfucker undersold me,” she screams, standing in place as she yells to no one in particular. “He told me the piece was worth one point two fucking million, and it sells for less than a hundred fucking thousand!”
Oh fuck. If you weren’t scared out of your goddamn mind before you sure are now.
There are two things in this world no one should fuck with when it comes to Wanda’s possessions:
The first is you.
Once, a man accidentally brushed against you at a gallery opening and Wanda nearly bit him – throwing red wine on his white shirt and screaming at him to leave.
Once he was out of her sight, she dragged you to the nearest bathroom, leaving a deep hickey high enough on your neck that you couldn’t hide it before making you show it off to the guests for a few more hours.
The second, is her money.
It’s not that Wanda’s not charitable, far from it; she claims millions on her taxes every year.
It’s just that she’s in charge of those things. She decides who gets what and when, she controls when her Black card is used and why. When people promise to bring her a certain amount of profit, they better fucking deliver, or else…this happens.
This meaning her getting so mad she looks like she could cause wildfires. All those earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, everything – those aren’t tectonic plates, no, they’re something much more powerful.
Wanda’s anger can move mountains, make species go extinct.
And, most important by far, it can make you shake in fear.
“That fucker, I should have known when he asked that I wear some fucking,” you can hear the venom in her voice, spitting over everything as she grabs the Stoch – the nice stuff, from the lockbox deep in the cupboard. She throws the bags of junk food – the chips you like and the cookies she loves – across the kitchen before stabbing in the code with her perfectly manicured nails. She doesn’t speak until she’s had two sips straight from the container, face wincing slightly before she sets it back on the counter. “To wear some fucking slip to the meet up, as if he needed to see me in anything at all! Ugh!” she scoffs, taking another long swig. “Must I always wear a low-cut dress to be important?”
You don’t reply, staying silent and inert as what could be the scariest thing unfolds in front of you.
Out of nowhere, she stills, taking exactly three, ten-second-in and ten-second-out breaths. It’s after that that she steps over to the large navy-blue sectional, sitting on it with her feet flat on the floor.
“Get on your fucking knees,” Wanda hisses.
You drop to the floor without hesitation, petrified.
Wanda watches you intently for a moment, jaw clenching as she moves to sit on the couch, feet flat against the floor. She pats her right hand against her right knee twice, and you immediately understand what she wants.
You fall across her knees, one arm grabbing her ankle while the other folds behind your back for her to grab – each action desperate to be obedient, to try to throw a fire blanket over the ravenous, burning thing that’s overtaken her.
There’s very little warning before she’s pulled the sundress up and bunching it into your fist, giving you little warning before leaving a slap against your ass – barely covered by the flimsy cotton underwear.
She ignores you, when you cry out, ignores you when tears begin to stream from your eyes and when blood spills from your bottom lip when it gets caught between your teeth.
It isn’t until your ass feels like it’s been branded when she lets up, inadvertently giving you a moment to breathe as she clenches her fists in front of her.
“It’s not enough!” Wanda screams, pushing you onto the floor. You fall against the wood hard, making you cry out in pain as she stomps away. “It’s not enough! Why isn’t it enough!”
Through the ringing in your ears you can hear her in the bedroom, the distinct sound of a six-bolt padlock being clicked open ricocheting in your eardrums. The only thing locked with that sort of hardware is the chest Wanda keeps all your kink-related items in, separating into layers by the degree of play.
It starts light at the top; blindfolds and a few cute collars with equally cute pet names engraved onto small heart-shaped nameplates. One of them is even diamond-encrusted, PROPERTY OF WANDA spelled out in bold print across pink faux leather. You can picture them even as your brain becomes fuzzy, can see them vividly against a distinct white velvet Wanda picked out especially.
The second layer, and the third (due to the size of the collection) are dildos, vibrators, butt plugs of more sizes and varieties than you can count. You can hear her removing those two shelves hastily, tearing through the rest of the box until she gets to the last level, the one you fear the most:
They’re rarely used, only barely broken in. A spreader bar Natasha got Wanda as a gag gift about a year ago. A riding crop Wanda bought at a kink convention awhile ago on an intoxicated whim. A thick collar meant for posture made of pure, soft leather and a solid gold latch. And, lastly, a fine leather ball gag, deep and black and beautifully handmade.
All four of them stiff and mean, just like Wanda in times like these.
She calls you into the bedroom with a shout, smiling when she hears you rushing from your felled position in the living room.
You can see the last fleeting moment of it when you cross the threshold, see that her anger has an end and this is not some permanent fixture in your still-budding relationship.
“Down,” she says simply, and you drop, sitting back on your heels.
Your hands remain palms-down on your thighs with your spine straight as one of those expensive paintings that decorate so many of the walls in the place you and her call home.
It stays that way – your spine parallel to the walls – as the collar is dangled in front of your eyes before being secured around your neck.
“Too tight?” Wanda asks, emotionless.
You shake your head as she sticks two fingers, the pads pressed into the soft skin of your neck. “Good.”
The ritual is repeated for the ball gag, the toy wrapped around your head and subsequently checked for fit.
She then instructs you to get on the bed, perpendicular to her as you lay on your back. You can’t see it – but the rustling and distinct clacking sound of metal pieces moving together can tell you she’s grabbing the very toys you’re terrified of the most.
The plain white ceiling gives you something to stare at, to fixate on as you feel the soft leather cuffs tightening before being checked. It’s almost sweet – the little ritual – if it didn’t immediately lead to your imminent torture.
You can feel her stepping back, heated eyes raking up your body slowly, surely. She watches carefully as your cunt pulses under her heated gaze, watches each muscle twitch as you anxiously await her next move.
Wanda looks at you the same way you think starving lionesses look at zebras separated from the safety of their heard. Her eyes zero in on her pulsing cunt, watching for the perfect moment to-
SMACK!
The riding crop comes down quick against your center, a sharp pain causing a fiery heat to spread up your ribs and down to your toes.
“Does that hurt, baby?” Wanda coos, twirling the end of the crop between the fingers of her nondominant hand.
You nod, trying desperately to gasp for air as drool spills out of the sides of your mouth. “Mmm,” is all you can get from behind the plastic. “Hngf.”
Wanda just laughs down at you, smacking the end light enough not to hurt but hard enough to tease you.
“Aw, my pretty little thing,” a faux pout paints itself across her face. “Such a sensitive baby.”
You whine, overwhelmed and desperate and oh so desperate to press your thighs together for any kind of pressure where you need it most. But no, of course not. Wanda wants to see you struggle, looks down at you with a smirk playing across her lips as you twist and beg, hoping she’ll find it in herself to give you mercy.
Given how the hours previous had gone, though, you doubt she’ll give you any.
“I’m going to give you one of these,” Wanda snaps the crop against your left inner thigh and smirks when you yelp. “For each hundred thousand I lost today.”
You do the mental math – whole body tensing. Nineteen. You’re about to get whipped nineteen times with a toy you haven’t broken in…
Shivers run up your spine and each muscle in your body tenses – whether in fear or anticipation, you don’t know and don’t really care to find out.
The first one comes down against the same inner thigh as before, sure to leave angry hot welts that will need constant care in the next few days. The second goes against the opposite side – skin previously untouched now screaming.
The third and forth are against your hips, fifth and sixth hitting just above your knees.
You lose count after that, mind numb as your wetness pools onto the freshly cleaned comforter. Between your racing heartbeats and the blood in your ears you assumed Wanda had finished with you, but coming to for a breath of fresh air only makes to bring the final blow – this time against your cunt.
With the gag the only sounds that reverberate off the walls come from deep in your chest, screams remnant of a horror experienced from another room. Wanda smiles as she watches you squirm as sparks of pain jump across your center and thighs.
There a few moments of silence as your panting curbs to low breaths, giving you a moment for recovery as your vision clears and the ringing in your ears stops.
It’s only then that Wanda gets up, trailing her fingertips across your sweaty skin as she walks past you.
“C’mon kitten,” she murmurs, stepping out of sight and back towards the chest of toys. “Let me make you feel good…”
Your brow furrows in confusion, pulling weakly at the restraints until you hear a plug being insert into an outlet, and the distinct sound of a long, long cord being unraveled.
The sound of the vibrator makes you groan in anticipation – ecstatic and terrified of how Wanda will use it on you. If she thinks you’ve been good, maybe she’ll be nice – get you off with it pressed against your clit with three of her fingers buried deep inside of you.
Or, if she remains unsatisfied with your performance, she could keep you just on the edge or pushing you over it until your begging meets expectations or she gets bored enough to stop.
As the head is pressed to your clit you nearly scream with relief – the soft vibrations and even softer words hitting you like droplets during the first rainstorm after dry season. It washes over you, coating your skin in delicious relief as your buck your hips and cry out.
Each word, each scream, remains muffled by the sphere in your mouth, but Wanda coos down at you nonetheless.  
“Such a pretty little girl you are,” she says, watching you with the same hawkish gaze as before. It feels more reserved, though, as if she was watching over you rather than attempting to pin you down. “Such a pretty little girl for me.”
She climbs over you, then, never letting the toy leave your body as she pulls your head into her lap. Wanda looks down at you as you fall apart, watches you with eagle eyes as you cum.
As the initial waves of pleasure subside, you sigh in relief.
That is, until the head of the toy is pressed to your center once more. The next orgasm, and the one after that, and the one after that and-
They’re nearly painful as they hit you like a spray of bullet, like you’re being tased. You’re crying and doing your best to wail as you writhe around, Wanda cradling your face the entire time.
Your brain is numb when Wanda decides you had enough, whole body limb in her arms when she switches the soaked toy off.
She unties you with quick fingers, allowing you to slump against her as she takes off the rest of the restraints that litter your body.
“Rest up,” she tells you plainly as you nuzzle into her side. “I’m still pissed.”
You smile into the bare skin of her ribs, leaving a small kiss on the warm skin. Despite her tone, you can tell there’s not much behind it – fury that had settled just beneath her skin long dissipated into something she can save for the next time that man dares show his face in her presence.
There’s a pause once you stop adjusting, a heavy beat of silence that neither of you feels a need to fill. It’s a long while before either of you says anything, and even then the words are quite soft-spoken despite the two of you being the only ones in the large house.
“I love you, you know that, right?” Wanda whispers into your hair.
You give a small nod, unable to move because of the soreness attacking each of your muscles. “Yeah,” you mumble, voice equally low. “Yeah. I love you, too. Do you know that?”
Wanda smiles. “Yeah, yeah. I do.”
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writingfandomfeels · 5 years ago
Text
Draco - Fun to Be Bad
Summary: You’re dared to steal a book from the restricted section at night, but a certain prefect catches you. Smut.
A/N: Another one that was accidentally deleted
“Okay, seriously, one of you has to choose dare one of these times, we can’t just play an entire game of Truth.” Your friend said. 
“Okay, okay. I’ll take a dare.” You volunteered. 
The group of girls in your dorm playing Truth or Dare began to brainstorm ideas. 
“I’ve got it!” Your friend piped up. “I dare you, to steal a book from the restricted section.” 
You contemplated the dare a moment before accepting and rising to the challenge. Quietly you crept out of your house’s dormitories, sneaking down the hallways leading to the library. Because it was after dark no one was wandering about, except maybe professors… which you desperately hoped you wouldn’t encounter. 
You made it to the library without a hitch. Success! As you walked toward the restricted section, you glanced over your shoulder to be sure. Suddenly you felt yourself bumping into another person. You turned to meet the cool blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. 
“And what business would you have lurking about the library at this hour Y/L/N?” Draco interrogated. 
“C’mon Draco, it’s just me, nobody is even around. There’s no need to be so formal.” You flirted, hoping he wouldn’t report you. “Besides, I only came on a dare. Surely you understand, right?” You took a step closer to him, giving your best angel face. It wasn’t hard for you to turn on the charm with him. Actually, you’d sort of been secretly seeing him lately. It was basically just the occasional snogging in abandoned classrooms or broom closets. You’d never discussed what it meant to either of you and it never escalated to more than just snogging due to lack of time, but tonight on the other hand… 
He stared at you a moment before he responded. “I understand, but as a Prefect I also have a responsibility to turn you in.” 
You sighed. “You’re right.” You said nodding your head. “But before you turn me in…” Leaning in, you gave him a teasing kiss. As you pulled away you had to smile at how he was noticeably flustered. 
“You… should go…” He mumbled, his gaze focused on your lips. 
You pressed your lips to his again. “But do you really want me to go?” You asked. 
His blue eyes trailed up and down your figure. You couldn’t help but notice him biting his lip a little as he stared at you. 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pressed your body to his. “Relax blondie, we won’t get caught.” You said inches away. You kissed him again. “And besides,” you whispered in his ear, “it can be fun to be bad.” Lightly you grazed his earlobe between your teeth, then slowly pulled away, watching as he tried to fight it but ultimately lost. 
“Oh forget this.” Unable to contain himself any longer he harshly crashed his lips against yours, embracing you in his arms. 
Slightly surprised by the sudden impact, your back hit against the bookcase behind you. 
Draco placed one hand against the bookshelf to lean on, the other found its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. 
Your heart raced, feeling his body pressed against yours like this. 
His tongue slid in and out of your mouth as you kissed passionately. 
Desperate for more, your hands went to loosen his tie. Once loose enough, he pulled away from you for a second to take it off, along with his slytherin sweater vest, throwing both on the floor. From the way he was panting and moving, you could tell he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. 
Immediately he returned to kissing you, squeezing your thighs, and biting your bottom lip a little. He began backing up, but keeping his hands tightly around your body, he brought you with him. You opened your eyes for a moment and looked to your left, as Draco moved to kissing and sucking your neck. You noticed he’d brought you over to one of the sections that had the tables in front of the shelves. 
“Jump up, love.” He whispered into your ear. 
Obediently you followed, jumping up so that you sat on the table. He stood with your legs on either side of him. You returned to french kissing while simultaneously undressing each other. By the time you’d finished the buttons of his white shirt, he’d undone your tie, the buttons of your cardigan, and had a few buttons of your blouse undone too. 
“You’re fast.” You commented. 
“Don’t worry Y/N, I take my time where it counts.” He winked with a cocky smile. 
You wanted to hate his arrogance but it only made you melt more. 
Draco finished taking off your blouse, licking his lips as he took a moment to stare at your chest. Confidently you smiled, feeling like a work of art on display. You brushed one bra strap off your shoulder, enticing him to continue undressing you. Once your bra had been tossed aside, you moved your mouth to his neck and the top of his chest, moaning softly against his skin as he massaged your breasts. 
After a moment, he pulled back, changing things up. Slowly he ran his hand underneath your skirt and up your inner thigh, boldly keeping eye contact with you. 
The heat radiated from between your legs as your body begged for him to inch closer. 
Teasingly he slowly ran his hand up your space and over your panties, before hooking a finger over the top of them and tugging them off. Although he wore an arrogant smile, you felt like you sensed the slightest hint of caution behind his eyes. After all, you two had never made it this far before. 
“Touch me.” You whispered the encouragement and he promptly obliged. 
Without any notice, he plunged a finger into you, causing you to gasp at the sudden fulfillment. 
“That too much for you princess?” He asked, his voice cheeky, though he did honestly want to know. 
He had perfectly found your g-spot and was already sending pulsing waves of pleasure through your body. You could hardly hear him over the sensations. 
Managing to shake your head, you muttered out a distracted,“Uh uh. Keep going.” 
Following your request he moved his other hand to begin rubbing your clit. 
You moaned and put your hand behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. Sloppily you kissed him in gratitude as he continued to take you higher. You felt yourself growing more and more sensitive, with each thrust of his fingers. 
Pulling away from your mouth, he brought himself down to kiss your other lips. He continued to finger you while simultaneously licking and sucking on your clit. 
Your hand fell to his blond hair, brushing the white strands away from his face and feeling the softness against your skin. Instinctively you pulled a little at his hair as you came closer and closer, feeling yourself tightening around his fingers rhythmically. But just as you felt like he was about to send you over the edge, he pulled away, stopping completely. 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” You shot at him angrily. 
He began unzipping his dark trousers. “Not yet darling. Not until I say so.” 
You shook your head at him, the mixed feelings of arousal and anger swirling together like the perfect toxic concoction. “You sick bastard.” 
“I know you love it.” 
You hated to admit it but he was absolutely right. You’d never had anyone deny your orgasm before and although it was infuriating it also thrilled you. 
“Ready for this, love?” He asked, lightly teasing your entrance with his tip. 
You were sick of the buildup now. You wanted the grand finale more than anything at this point. 
“Just fucking make me cum already Malfoy.” You demanded, no desire to play coy. 
He smirked, and pushed into you. You let out a breathy sigh as you welcomed the feeling of being full again. Methodically he began pushing in, deep, then shallow, never giving you quite enough. The fucking tease. 
“Please, more.” You were practically begging. 
“More? Like… this?” He groaned, angling himself to thrust in much deeper than he had been. 
You shot your head back in response, letting out an erotic cry. 
“Shh,” He hushed, covering your mouth with his hand. “Mustn’t be loud in the library. That’s against the rules.” 
“And this, isn’t?” You added between quick breaths. 
Draco smiled devilishly. 
You wrapped your legs around his torso, all of your muscles tensing as the feelings built back up again. Slightly surprising you, he brought his thumb back to your clit, applying pressure in rhythm with the motion of your hips. 
You moaned again, trying to keep yourself quiet, though it was a difficult feat. He pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you passionately as your bodies lurched together. The muscles inside you contracted more violently and you felt yourself start to lose control. 
“Draco, I-” you started but got immediately cut off by the explosion of euphoria. Letting out a sharp cry, you squeezed his bicep with your hand as you felt the long awaited release. He grunted as he thrust a few more times before feeling it himself. You let your upper body flop forward into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder as you both panted, holding each other. 
“Still planning on turning me in?” You asked flirtily. 
Draco chuckled. “You should probably get back to your dorm before anyone else catches you. I’m sure they wouldn’t be as understanding as me.” 
He helped you collect your clothes and you separated in the halls. 
Once nearly back to your dorm you cursed, smacking your forehead. 
“Damn it. Forgot the book,” you sighed. 
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keepswingin · 4 years ago
Text
The dungeon is dark and dank, rats festering in the corners her lantern’s light doesn’t reach.
The bottom of her nightgown drags across slick stone and she startles far too easily when she accidentally steps in a shallow puddle, water sloshing in an echo around her.
A ragged growl escapes from the deep folds of utter darkness in front of her at the sudden noise, and she lifts her light higher before she can stop herself, racing heart settling once more when she’s greeted by the proud seal of her family’s royal crest. It sits heavily in the middle of the twisted iron of the first cage she sees, squared awkwardly to the wall so that four other cages fit alongside it, Where everything else in the dungeon itself is decaying, the crest shines, and for the first time ever in her life, she thinks she doesn’t care what it stands for.
Described in the crest is, after all, her great-great grandfather slaying an untamable beast, long sword sticking proudly out of a deflated chest, a flag raised high into the air behind him, the entire imagine encased by a half-risen sun, signaling the end of a dark war-torn century.
And here, in this very room somewhere, sits one of the captured leaders of their forever sworn enemy.
Her stomach churns, urging her to turn back, reminding her of her duties as a queen-to-be, but she shoves the uncomfortable feelings aside, and begins to approach the first chiseled cage.
Inside is a skeleton, hands still outstretched toward the closed door, as if they had died begging to someone - or something - outside of it. She straightens her spine as she moves onto the next, which is bare of anything at all, and then to the third. Chains hang from the ceiling sporting heavy shackles, and the door is opened, as if waiting for it’s next victim, but otherwise the small section is clear.
She turns to move to the fourth cage, one away from the furthest wall from the spiraling stairs she had descended, and freezes in her tracks when she sees bright yellow watching her from the dark.
She knows it’s eyes, she knows what’s behind those eyes, and she knows what she’s learned from the stories she had grown up with, but even with all that knowledge beside her, she still decides to take a breath, and then to continue walking.
The eyes don’t blink once as they watch her approach, and she doesn’t falter as she comes to a stop in front of his cage, lifting the light so that she can see what awaits her inside.
There’s new cuts and gashes spattered across the expanse of his open skin, covering intricate lines of body markings she’s only ever seen inked onto paper. They’re beautiful up close, careful lines and detailed pieces of history and family that a crest could never compare to. His shirt is ripped, one shoulder bare, and his pants are scuffed, caked with mud and dried blood. A line of twine hangs around his neck, but what rests on it is hidden beneath his shirt. His hair is matted to the front of his forehead, white slashing through dark brown, and his eyes are piercing when she meets them again, but she doesn’t back down.
This was where her curiosity had led her, and so far her hunch wasn’t wrong. Something wasn’t right about the history books, or the pictures that had shown gaping mouths and sharp teeth, furry snouts and claws longer than swords.
Because, from where she was standing, this werewolf was looking far more human than he should’ve been.
“How badly are you hurt?”
Surprisingly, her voice comes out strong. She’s proud of that. Those yellow eyes continue to watch her, analyzing, deciding, and she dares to take a step closer. Yellow flickers.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says, taking another step, “I’m sorry they did what they did to you in the square.”
(“Behold!” her parents’ squire had gloated, “As our King has captured the leader of the beasts!”
Cheers had erupted from the crowds around them, her father looking among his people proudly before turning around and grabbing the foreclaimed beast from his royal knights waiting behind him. He had shoved him forward, his knees digging into the ground as he had fallen, growling and fighting loudly all the while.
The chain around his neck had dug enough into skin to be bleeding, fat rivulets of blood soaking through the furs of his ancestors, the vest of a leader. She had thought the sowing to be pretty when she had first seen it, and then her father, as kind of a man as he was cruel, had torn the sacred material from his shoulders, and then had it set ablaze beside him.
The roars of the crowd had drowned out the keening roar of the beast.)
“That…wasn’t right.” She reaches out and wraps a hand around the bars, blue eyes still clashing with brilliant yellow. “I—“
Before she can think of saying another word, a hand is wrapped around her throat. Short claws dig into her skin, not enough to cause any real damage, but just enough to be a threat. Yellow eyes bore into her, burning with anger, sadness…fear. A soft growl tears from the wolf’s throat, tampering off into words.
“You smell important,” he says, his voice deep, haggard from disuse. “Like that man who burned lifetimes of history for the likes of a crowd.”
She’s calmer than she’d thought she would be, her breathing even despite the strong hand that could snap her neck in two without so much as breaking a sweat. Her thirst for the truth is stronger than she gives it credit it for.
“It was wrong of him to do that,” she agrees quietly, keeping still. He watches her for a moment, and then seems to grow angry, his hold tightening the slightest bit.
“Who are you?” he snarls, fangs shining in the lamplight. She hadn’t planned to share exactly who she was when she had come up with this idea to sneak down here and talk to him, and she could just lie, but something inside of her told her not to. Something inside of her told her that if he wanted her dead, she would’ve been already.
“I’m Addison Wells—“
“I should kill you, right here,” he snaps, upon hearing mention of the royal name that has been at odds with his pack for as long as he’s lived, as long as his great-great grandmother had lived, “for all the hundreds of my kind that have been murdered, the life of a royal wouldn’t be much, but it would matter.”
Addison exhales slowly.
“So kill me then.” She’s met by bewildered eyes. “If killing me is what you need to do to start the healing between our bloodlines, then do it.”
She goes to press her neck into his claws, but he lets go of her before she can finalize it, regarding her in silence. His hand lowers back down to his side.
(“They’ll get you,” her mother warns a fussing toddler Addison after dinner because she had wanted her father but her father was in a war meeting. “They’ll come from the woods, snatch you in the night, and sink their teeth into you if you don’t stop this nonsense right now, my dear.”
She had sniffled and buried her face into her mother’s gown, fear wrapping tightly around her gut. Her mother had hummed and pulled her closer, kissing her hair.
“That’s my princess. Come on now, your father will be done soon.”)
“Why are you here?” he asks finally, and the yellow is gone when he blinks a second later, leaving no trace of it behind.
“To find the truth,” she replies easily, because she’s sick of being lied to. She thinks it was the burning earlier today that had begun this awakening inside of her, because for all that her parents had done right, that wasn’t something that could be reversed or forgiven. Her emotions had been all over the place since, and even now they were still loose and rattling around her head, but one thing was for sure - what would a captured werewolf gain from lying to her?
“And what makes you think I know it?” He turns away from her and heads to the corner of the cage, sliding down the wall and taking a seat on the stones. He doesn’t have a bed, or a basin, or anything at all. She wondered if the servants were even allowed down here, and made a note to herself to check the next day. They had left him in complete darkness, but she had figured that would be the worst of it.
Maybe there was more to all of this than she had originally thought.
“Because you’re the only one who does,” she supplies evenly, and his eyebrows raise in question.
“What’s to keep me from lying to you? Wouldn’t I say anything to get myself out of here?”
Addison can’t help the small smile that begins to lift the corner of her lips. “Werewolves are forbidden to lie.”
He looks impressed by her answer, the most solid emotion he’s shown so far, but it’s gone as fast as it appears.
Silence stretches between them once more, and Addison waits for him to break it, not wanting to push too much or too far. He eventually does, arms crossed, eyes still watching her carefully.
“A princess who wants to know my secrets, huh?” he muses, a smirk crossing his features at the sight of her blush, “It’s been a while since that’s happened.”
(Kisses pressed along her jawline before teeth nip playfully at her neck, hands splayed across the bare skin of her back. Her own hands sliding from the nape of his neck into his hair so that she can drag his head up so that his lips meet hers again.
Her hands dip back down to his chest after, and a short laugh had puffed out of him as he had pulled back, their foreheads pressed together as her fingers traced the lines resting on his skin.
“They’re nothing special,” he had whispered to her and she had shaken her head before kissing him slow and soft, her hands coming to a rest on the sharp curve of his hips.
“They’re apart of what makes you who you are.”
He had smiled then, the kind of smile that had made her heart and stomach do all kinds of things they shouldn’t, and then had kissed her again, and again, and—)
She shoves the dream aside quickly. That wasn’t part of the reason she came down here at all, because she doubted it was anything. It wasn’t like she was a seer or anything of the sort, so it just had to be a fluke, though the lines in the dream she had a few weeks ago were awfully similar…
She opts for the safe answer among the red that’s still steadily dusting her cheeks. “Your *people’s* secrets.” And then another thought strikes her. “May I ask what your name is?”
He stills, the smirk slipping from his lips. Something changes in the air, but she can’t quite grasp what. He looks down at the ground, eyes chasing the rats that huddle and chase and keen, before looking back up to the girl before him. Her hair is long, and as white as the moon on a clear evening, her eyes trusting, her hands steady. Her skin is tinted orange from the lantern, and her nightgown is dirty at the bottom from her trek down here.
Something in his heart twists.
“Wyatt,” he says, despite the chiding voice of his mother inside his head. Addison smiles, and wonders if maybe they could end this lifelong war between human and werewolf after all.
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forgottenpasta · 5 years ago
Text
Lifeline | 06
Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them? BTS x Reader, Vampire!au, Idol!au
Pairing: Ot7 x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fantasy
Word count: 15.4k
Warning: mentions of sex work, mentions of murder, violence, blood, language.
Ch.1| Ch.2| Ch.3| Ch.4| Ch.5
A/n: Enjoy!
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“You’re getting me Beyoncé’s autograph or I’m going to kick you out of our apartment.”
Staring unseeingly at the blinking line of the cursor below the wall of coding you’d managed to do since morning, you half listened to Jisoo’s threats in your ear, wondering when you would heed your stomach’s grumbling and finally grab a bite. You had only had a cup of coffee and a muffin in the morning, stuffing the bready, crumbly goodness in your mouth while informing Jisoo about your imminent departure to America in a matter-of-fact tone, as if you were only going to go to the grocery store to pick up some eggs. 
If she only knew that I’m going as their grocery myself. Nothing like flying your food along with you.
You grinned at your lame attempt at diet humour. 
“You pillock, you’re not even listening to me!”
Wrinkling your nose, you focused back on Jisoo’s churlish voice. “What the fuck is a pillock, Jisoo? Have you been watching those overdramatic British cooking shows again?”
“I hear judgement in your voice, Y/n.”, Jisoo sniffed in offence. “And I do not care for it.”
Leaning back on your plush office chair, you chuckled with delight. “Why, pardon me madam, which old English lady are you trying to imitate right now?” 
“Shut up.”, Jisoo grumbled. “I know what you’re trying to do. I want that autograph. And I will only settle for Rihanna as a substitute. I’m going to exploit your lofty connections, now that you’re all chummy with world-famous celebrities.”
“Jisoo,”,you said her name at the tail end of a long-suffering sigh.“When I told you about the award show the boys will be attending, at what point did I say that I’ll be sitting at the VIP section, drinking champagne with the who’s who of Hollywood? I’ll probably be in an obscure cramped hotel room with another member of the staff, eating shitty room service while watching them on the tv like the rest of the world. And besides, I don’t think Beyoncé and Rihanna are even gonna be there.”
Jisoo was silent for about five seconds.
“Then what’s even the point? Flop.”
A soft knock on your office door distracted you. You looked up just as it swung open to reveal one by seven of the reasons you had difficulty breathing several times a day. 
“Jisoo, can I call you back?”, you mumbled distractedly before hanging up on Jisoo’s protesting voice. 
You were only human. You couldn’t multitask while Jimin was leaning against your office doorjamb looking like all your sins manifested. In a casual long sleeve t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair uncharacteristically swept off his forehead and delicate silver earrings dangling from his earlobes. 
A knowing grin graced his mouth as you blatantly checked him out, amusement dancing in his eyes. 
With a cough you straightened in your chair. “What’s up?”
Cringing, you inwardly smacked your forehead. What’s up? Really?
It didn’t seem to matter that in the three days since you’d come back to office, they all (barring one) made sure to see you in flesh at least once a day. Actually came up with all sorts of excuses to visit you, “run into” you, “accidentally” catch you while you were leaving the restroom, just “happen to be” in the cafeteria when you came down for lunch. That last one was Hoseok not even trying to be subtle. 
Your mind still half fried and scrambled itself trying to process all the attractiveness surrounding you.
“Your friend doesn’t ask too many questions, does she?” Jimin appraised your twitching form, thankfully ignoring your childish greeting. 
You frowned. “Were you eavesdropping?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t have to. I can tell you what Namjoon and Jin are talking about one floor above us.”
Of course he could. Sometimes they looked so approachable that you forgot they were not human and could probably break your neck with a snap of their fingers. 
“What are they talking about?” You pressed. 
He just smiled. 
Well, it was worth a try.
“Jisoo”, you answered his earlier question instead. “doesn’t ask too many questions because she trusts me and wants the best for me. She’s happy thinking Namjoon is so head over heels for me he’s willing to take me across the globe with him.”
“She’s not far off.” He pushed off the threshold, sauntering inside. 
“You’re kidding right? If Namjoon had his way this curse would be broken and he’d be in Gina’s arms while my dead body floats face down in the Han river.” 
Laughing at your morbid imagination, you paid no mind to the way he effortlessly swung up one of the chairs in front of your desk and placed it beside your own, plopping down on it heavily. He eyed the coding on your monitor curiously as you turned to face him. 
Absentmindedly, you concluded that his side profile must have been sculpted by the gods. 
“Don’t exaggerate, Y/n.” An elbow on the armrest, he cupped his face in one palm, giving you his best impression of a cherub. No innocence about him though. “Besides I wasn’t talking about Namjoon.”
There goes your poor heart, fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird on steroids. 
Scratching the back of your neck, you chuckled nervously. Was he flirting with you? How did you reply to that? You were woefully inept at this. 
“It’s so surprising,” he tilted his head, gazing at you thoughtfully. “That you have no qualms kissing Jeongguk like that in front of us, but you’re blushing at the mere mention of me falling for you.”
Did he have to put it like that? And was he really falling for you? You doubted that. He was really glib with his words. And you were awkward yes, but not a fool. 
“That you have no problem letting Taehyung—”
“Jimin.”, you cut him off, not ready to go down that line of questioning yet. You were not sure of the answers yourself. Instead you turned the tables on him. “If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?”
The change of subject didn’t go unnoticed by him. He smirked at you sideways, but let it go. “Depends on what you ask, love.”
If he wanted to throw you off by using that endearment, he was…succeeding. 
You cleared your throat. “You still haven’t told me why you call me that, but that’s something for another day. Tell me,” you leaned forward into his personal space. Two could play at this game. “Why don’t you have your share of reservations about me? Just like the others.”
“What do you mean?” His eyes flickered to your lips for a second and you wondered if you weren’t a fool for trying intimidation tactics on a vampire. He wasn’t in the least bit intimidated. 
“I mean,” you try to lean back but Jimin’s hand on your elbow stopped you. You swallowed harshly, but continue on. Curiosity about the only member who’d always been kind, considerate and accepting of you burned. Now you had your chance. “You don’t seem to be taking this curse like a curse at all. Don’t you want a mate of your own? Like Namjoon. Not one that you have to share with six other vampires?”
For a few seconds Jimin gave you a blank stare. Then he let go of your elbow abruptly. You almost toppled into him but manage to catch yourself at the last second. He didn’t meet your eyes when he replied, “Does it matter?”
Classic evasion. You couldn’t count how many times you’d used the same phrase when you didn’t want to answer something. 
“It matters to me.” You told him softly, this time reaching your hand out to place it on his arm. He eyed it sceptically. “I’d like to know.”
He scoffed, the bitter smile on his lips surprising you. “No, Y/n, you really won’t. You think I’m some angel who has your best interests at heart. Well, truthfully I don’t want to disavow you of that notion. It works in my favour.”
Whatever you’d expected to come out of his mouth, it wasn’t that. What was he suggesting? How did you believing he was a good person work in his favour?
“What do you mean?”, you echoed his earlier words.
“It means,” he mimicked you, but instead of just invading your personal space, his hands circled your knees and spread your legs apart, pulling you to the edge of your chair with a quick jerk. With a shocked yelp, you clutched his shoulders for balance, your eyes widening as he wedged his firm thighs in between your splayed legs. “That you’re incredibly naïve and I like it.”
The skirt you were wearing was bunched up at your hips now, you tried pulling it down in order to not flash Jimin your plain white cotton panties but he didn’t let you move. You huffed in irritation. “Is there a reason why you have me in this position right now? And I’m not naïve.”
He ignored your add on, gently caressing the back of your thighs. “Just keeping you in place so you don’t run away screaming.”
Restraining a full body shiver at the deft stroke of his hands on your bare skin, you gulped. Where was he going with this? “Why would I do that?”
Jimin smiled, his fond gaze on you didn’t fill you with warmth like it usually did. When he spoke it was with a chilling intensity that set all your alarms blaring. 
“I don’t see you as a curse, because you’re not, Y/n. Not for me. You’re the sign I had been waiting for, for so long. A reward really. For everything I’ve been through. You were owed to me.”
A shuddering exhale left you. One at a time.
“What have you been through?”, you whispered.
A glassy glaze took over his eyes, as if your question transported him somewhere else. “Do you remember the Haeundae serial murders?”
“Um vaguely.” You frowned, thoughts a mixture of confusion and apprehension. “I wasn’t even in middle school then. Several escorts from one of Busan’s red light districts were found with their throats slit. They bled to death. Right?”
“Wrong.” Jimin’s grip tightened on your thigh, his gaze vacant. “They were bitten and drained. Slitting their throat was an attempt at cover up. A very sloppy one at that.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “H-how—”
“My mother was likely an escort. I wouldn’t know, I never met her. She left me, a squealing newly born baby, in an open drain pipe in Haeundae.” He laughed, the sound broken and manic. “Infanticide by drowning in fucking gutter water.” 
Goosebumps broke out on every inch of your bare skin. Not because of all he was telling you, but because the pain in his eyes felt too much, too real, too soon. It took you several, agonisingly long seconds to find your voice. Still it came out barely audible. “You’re not dead.”
“No, I’m not.” Dare you say there was pride in his voice. “I’m a natural born vampire. That’s the only good thing the sperm donor passed on to me. We’re fucking resilient, even as newborns.”
“Your father was a vampire?”
He nodded stiffly. “My mother couldn’t have been. Vampires aren’t prone to sex work.” He sneered, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Biohazard and all.”
Lest they kill their partners in the throes of passion.
 You shivered. He wasn’t saying as much but you could read in between the lines. And the picture that was painting itself in your head was inhuman. Did his father force himself on his mother? Giving her a ‘monster’ baby who she abandoned? You didn’t have the gall to prod him but you didn’t have to. The torment on Jimin’s face told you all you needed to know.
Does he feel guilty on behalf of his father? Even though his mother left him to die.
“How did you survive?”
At your timid question he looked at you, really looked at you for the first time since he’d started going down the black hole of his family history. Or lack of one.
As if impulsively, Jimin’s hands on your legs smoothed to your upper thighs, almost underneath your skirt. He observed your every twitch and shuffle with interest, making you squirm even more. 
“A deer shifter who also worked the nights in the same area found me. She took me in. My earliest memories are of her standing in the kitchen of her tiny, dinghy apartment. She couldn’t afford better even working night after night, selling herself to all and sundry. In those memories, she’s severing the carotid artery of a chicken before draining its blood in a glass for me.”
“She took care of you.”, you breathed, searching for some warmth, some fondness in his eyes for this unnamed person. You found none. 
“She was afraid of me.” He gritted his teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “I can barely remember any conversations we had. Fuck, I don’t even remember her name. Maybe she never told me. Can’t blame her, really. She was housing a predator in her sorry excuse of a fucking house and she damn well knew she was prey.”
“As soon as I turned eight she packed up her bags and vanished, leaving me to come home to an empty apartment. I remember being so confused and scared, I thought something had happened to her. I was ready to go out and knock down the doors of every pimp in the city who may have harmed her.” 
Your hands clasped together behind his nape as his voice broke at the last word. There were no tears in his eyes but you knew he must be holding them back with herculean effort, not wanting you to see him cry. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, he could cry, sob, break down in front of you.
He has gone through so much. 
Jimin closed his eyes on a stuttered exhale. “Guess she thought I was old enough to fend for myself.”
Heart breaking at his pain, you slid your palm to cup his cheek gently. He turned his face, nuzzling closer, a hand left your thighs to circle your wrist instead, keeping it in place as he inhaled sharply, scenting the blood rushing beneath your skin. 
Not knowing what to say to console him, you let him do as he pleased, shivering when he placed an open mouthed kiss on your pulse, his teeth barely grazing your skin.
His next words shot a chill down your spine, making you go rigid with fear.
“So I fended for myself. I half drank those whores and slit their throat to let them bleed out, covering it up as senseless murder.”
“Y-you killed them?”
He placed another kiss on your wrist, rubbing soothing circles on your skin with his thumb. You were anything but soothed, you were downright terrified and shocked. Maybe you were naïve, when he’d asked about the murders you’d thought he lost someone dear to him because of them.
Maybe he did.
“Did you k-kill the deer shifter too?”
He didn’t hear your timid question, or if he did he ignored it. Eyes still closed, his hoarse voice belied a deep seated agony he kept under lock and key everyday. “I was a child. I didn’t know what I was doing, I had nothing. Just that cloying ever present hunger for revenge, for something. The need to belong somewhere, have someone. The thirst for blood was nothing compared to the thirst to lash out. Take what should have been mine from the beginning.”
A tear escaped the corner of your eyes, and you pursed your lips to restrain more from following after it. “We-were you hoping,” you paused to swallow harshly “that your m-mother was amongst those you killed?”
He opened his eyes at that, staring into space without really looking. Again he didn’t answer you. You sensed he was far away, reminiscing painful memories. 
“The ones the police found were only the beginning. I got better at it, choosing my targets carefully.”, he chuckled wearily, his breath hot against your palm. “You couldn’t begin to imagine how many lonely, destitute prostitutes roam the Busan streets. Ones nobody gives a fuck about when they go missing.”
Everything had turned upside down. Yet again. Whenever you thought you had begun to understand these otherworldly men posing as beloved artists, they went and messed up your perspective of not just them, but your entire world.
Jimin was a cold blooded killer. Yet he was loved by millions.
In the clusterfuck of your multifarious emotions, one stood out. You still felt sympathy for the poor eight year old boy whose mother left him to die as a new born, whose guardian abandoned him, who no doubt had no clue why he was what he was…essentially a monster. 
It terrified you, this compassion. He’d just confessed to murdering innocent people.
But he was a child. 
Pulling your hand from his grip, you interlaced your fingers in your lap, voice curt when you asked, “W-when did you stop?”
Gritting your teeth at the stutter, you tried again. “Why did you stop?”
Jimin ran his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Seemingly back to the present again, he studied your reactions closely. You tried to maintain a poker face, but you knew you failed when his eyes fell to your trembling hands. 
“You’re afraid of me.” He declared it as fact. A small, cynical smile appeared on his face. “Well, at least you didn’t run away screaming like I thought you would.”
“I still might.”
Jimin reached up to wipe your cheek. You flinched in reflex. His eyes hardened as he pulled his hand away. 
“BangPD found me hunkering beside an alleyway dumpster when I was 13.” Sighing, he looked away from you. Suddenly he seemed tired of it all. Maybe he thought he’d revealed too much. He still continued on. “I’d just recently finished a kill, there was blood on my ratty clothes, on my mouth.”
“He took you in?”, you guessed.
“He knew what I was.” Jimin nodded, then smiled. A genuine smile this time. “Because he knew others like me too. He introduced me to the boys. Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jeongguk. I was the last to join them.”
The torment that was there in his eyes moments earlier, disappeared, and you knew Jimin had found his place in the world when he came here, when he met the others. His next words told you as much. 
“For the first time I felt like I belonged.” Jimin leaned back, running a hand through his thick hair, letting it fall over his forehead. “For the first time I wasn’t alone anymore, wasn’t scared of what I was. The guys taught me everything I know, they made me everything I am right now. They felt like home.”
Meeting your eyes, he corrected himself. “They feel like home.”
Things were starting to click into place. And the more they did, the more you realised how wrong you were. “And you don’t want to lose that feeling. Ever.”
He nodded, raising an eyebrow. “You see? I would do anything for them.”
You were so far off. He wasn’t accepting of you because he somehow fell for you in the short time you’d known each other, you weren’t a special snowflake he couldn’t bear to live without. 
No, this was just pure self preservation and self regard. He was just looking out for himself.
If it wasn’t clear enough, he spelt it out with you. “ I don’t ever want to lose this feeling, Y/n, and as long as you’re in our life I won’t have to. To answer your earlier question, I am more than fine with sharing you.” he laughed, shaking his head. “Ecstatic even. I would gladly forego having a mate of my own if it meant staying with the boys forever.”
So, he doesn’t feel anything for me?
Inwardly, you rolled your eyes. Why did it even matter? You didn’t feel anything for them either. They were just a very immoral, a-burden-on-your-conscience stepping stone to success. 
He is using me, I’m using them. Even Steven.
That would have been true, except for the butterflies in your stomach every time they were near, the wetness between your legs every time one of them touched you and the sheer space they had begun to occupy in your thoughts. 
And for that reason Jimin’s reasoning for wanting you stung even more. 
“Y/n?” Jimin’s soft voice made you straighten up and look at him. For a moment, the angelic beauty of his face be-spelled you. He looked so innocent, so harmless. One would think he wouldn’t even hurt a fly. 
I wonder how he looks when he’s in a rage, desperate enough to kill without a second thought.
“Are you okay?” Jimin glanced at where you were wringing your hands in your lap. 
“Yeah.”, you said, a little too quickly. Cracking your knuckles, a nasty habit you’d picked up from constantly typing on the computer, you purposefully stared at your monitor where a montage of you and Jisoo in Jeju was playing as screensaver. “I..um..just thought maybe I should get back to work.”
Jimin chuckled, shifting back to free your trapped legs. “Alright. I know a dismissal when I hear one.” 
You peered up at him as he stood up, feeling a bit intimidated when he met your eyes. 
“For what it’s worth,” he bent over to whisper in your ear and you shivered “you feel like home too, love.”
Then he kissed your cheek. 
You scowled as he left your office.
Why the fuck did he have to do that?
~.~.~
Minjun scratched his head, hesitation clear on his face. He clearly didn’t want to be having this conversation with you. 
“You’ve made good progress, Y/n, and I like where you’re going with this, but you won’t be here for the next few days since you’re ahem—”, he cleared his throat awkwardly and you restrained a resigned sigh. He improvised, “Since you’ll be um assisting Bangtan the next few days.”
How pg-13. 
“Minjun-ssi—”
“Should I assign someone else to takeover for the time being? Till you’re back to resume your work.”
“I don’t think there’s need for that.” You gave him a smile, hoping it looked sincere enough. “I can work on the trip. Gotta do something on those 11 hour flights, you know.”
“Y-yeah.” He didn’t meet your eyes. Was he actually intimidated by you? He had never been before, regarding you with casual indifference like he did most other employees under him. “If you’re sure. I wouldn’t want you to be swamped by work when you have other things occupying you.”
Holy fuck. He was intimidated by you. Your eyes almost bugged out of your head. What did he think? That you’d tell the boys to fire him if he made one wrong move?
Mistaking your expression for something else, he hastened to clarify. “I-I meant, I didn’t mean—”
Before you could stop his train wreck self, someone else did. A light knock on the door had him shutting up immediately. You both turned as the door opened. 
A pretty blonde stuck her head in, a smile lighting up her face as she spotted you. 
You frowned. Did you know her?
“Jinhee.” Minjun was similarly confused. “What are you doing here?”
The woman named Jinhee stepped in, and you distractedly noted that she was a ten on the attractiveness scale. The simple figure hugging plaid dress and heels she had on made her look simultaneously formal and smoking hot. A look that screamed that she dressed for both the office and the after hours. You were immediately envious of her dressing sense, especially considering that most days only sheer will power prevented you from rolling up to the Bighit building in pyjamas and stained t shirts.
She gave you a subtle once over, as if gauging exactly what was going through your mind. “I’m here to take Y/n-ssi with me, she’s needed somewhere else.”
Minjun nodded immediately, as if you were a highly distinguished individual and he’d taken too much time out of your busy schedule. “Of course, of course.”
Getting up you collected all of your stuff, not wasting a second to hightail it out of the room. You wanted to thank the pretty blonde for saving you as she immediately fell in step with you. 
“Where are we going? Did Sungmin want to see me?”, you asked instead, glancing at her briefly. 
She was silent for long seconds, almost making you think she wasn’t going to answer, before she flashed a smirk your way. “No, Min Yoongi does.”
Suspicion arose quickly. “Yoongi?” You raised your brows at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, why?”, she asked, wide-eyed. “Aren’t you close with all of the boys? You sound surprised.”
Your hackles rose immediately. The way she’d emphasised the word ‘all’ didn’t go unnoticed by you either. 
Narrowing your eyes, you gave her a warning look. “Why are you asking me this? Who are you, by the way?”
“Oh I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.”, she gave you a sheepish smile, but you saw right through her faux pleasant demeanour. “I’m Park Jinhee. I’m a stylist with the costume department. In particular, I arrange the boys’ stage looks.”
You gaped at her, impressed. No wonder she had impeccable dressing sense, and to think she came up with all those drool worthy, panty melting outfits the boys rocked on stage? Whew. 
Will she mind if I ask for her autograph?
“Also, I’m Taehyung’s fuck buddy.”
Will she mind if I punch her in the face?
“W-what?”, you stuttered in shock, shaking your head. 
Jinhee tossed all semblances of politeness out the window. “You heard me, Y/n. Me and Taehyung fuck. Occasionally. To be honest, I want to do more than just fuck him but he’s never been the romantically inclined one. That’s more Jimin’s style.”
A muscle jumped in your jaw as you grit your teeth. The way she spoke so casually, so intimately about them had you on edge. If she only knew what Jimin’s style actually was. 
Romantic? If you’re into serial killers…
Morbidity aside, you quickly composed a poker face, though your insides teemed with unexpected turmoil. “What am I supposed to do with this information? I’m sorry to break it to you but I’m not the best at relationship advice.”
“Oh but you are.”, she exclaimed, turning to you with a saccharine sweet smile. “You managed to snag six of the seven most coveted men in this country, heck dare I say, in the world. You Michael Phelpsed in the relationship department, Y/n.”
Six.
Arriving at the elevators, Jinhee quickly pressed the button and as if she read your mind again, went on to clarify, “But you didn’t get the hottest among them, am I right? I have never seen Taehyung around that cute little office you got along with that impressive promotion. All of the others pay frequent visits though, do they not?” 
The chilling look from you just made her snicker in delight. In just one breath she had made sure you knew that the entire building was aware how you’d gotten your position, as well as implied you were fucking six of them quite openly. 
“Jinhee.”, you spoke calmly, even though on the inside you were anything but. “I would shut up if I were you.”
“Why? Did I lie?” The elevator doors opened and she clutched your elbow, all but dragging you inside with her. Swiping her card, she pressed for the floor where their personal studios were. “Or did I struck a nerve? Don’t worry, I would do the same if I were you. We all gotta hustle somehow. If you think I’m judging you, I’m not.”
“What makes you think I care about your opinion?” You brushed off her hand from your arm and looked down your nose at her. “I’m not interested in having this conversation with you, Jinhee.”
Suddenly, all cheeriness vanished from her face, the seriousness in her eyes startling you. “But I am. Interested in Taehyung that is. I don’t give a single fuck about you sleeping with the others. However, if you so much as breathe near Taehyung, the consequences won’t be good for you.”
There it was. She had finally come to the point, you were wondering when the threats would pour out, since her infatuation with Taehyung wasn’t well masked. If she only knew that you’d already done much more than breathe the same air, that he’d has his tongue down your throat and his fingers inside you not too long ago. 
You pushed up the collar around your neck, suddenly conscious of the place where he’d sunk his fangs. Pursing your lips, you gave her a long hard contemplative stare, then you sighed.
“Have you told Taehyung how you feel about him? Maybe you should do that, instead of warning others off him.”
From the surprise on her face, that clearly wasn’t what she’d expected you to say. She shook her head. “He’s not the type to take confessions seriously. He would just laugh at me.”
Probably true. “Try it anyway.”
You knew the only reason you were encouraging her to open up to Taehyung was because you knew he didn’t feel the same way. He couldn’t. You were his mate, no matter how much he wanted to deny the fact. And the one thing you were coming to know from all the time you’d spent with the boys, was that they were not attracted to anyone else the way they were to you. At least, not anymore.
Ever since that day at the office, Taehyung had been avoiding you like the plague. You weren’t going out of your way to cross paths with him either, mostly because you were mortified at what you’d allowed to let happen that day. But Taehyung’s reason for not facing you were much deeper than that. You suspected he loathed the changes being mated had brought with it. 
Slyly, you glanced at Jinhee sideways. “You said you were fuck buddies. I’m sure you two have been going at it like rabbits ever since he returned.”
Her cheeks coloured at that, and knowing how cavalier she had been just moments before, you guessed it wasn’t because of shyness. “He hasn’t-he’s been busy. I guess.” She cleared her throat, darting her eyes everywhere but at you. “Their comeback is around the corner.”
The elevator dinged open and you both strode down the hallway, Jinhee fidgeting beside you. Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Really?”, you pretended surprise. “Then I’m sure he needs to relieve some stress. Why don’t you help him?”
“I told you he’s been busy.” She glared at you, clearly directing some pent up frustration at the wrong person. “It’s not like I haven’t tried. He keeps turning me down without so much as a glance my way. Clearly he got more than enough stress relief at wherever he’d fucked off to when he was gone.”
Yoongi’s studio came in sight and you slowed down to give Jinhee a sympathetic pout. 
“So much for being fuck buddies.”
“You bitch.” Jinhee seethed. You ignored her, knocking at Yoongi’s door instead. “You better heed my warning and stay away from him or—”
Rolling your eyes, you cut her off, knocking again. “Or the consequences won’t be good for me. Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Jinhee, goodbye.”
“Why you little—”
“What the fuck is going on here?”, Yoongi’s grumpy voice yelled as he pulled open the studio’s door the tiniest bit. Through the sliver of the crack, he peered down at you with a scowl, the headphones perched on his head a little askew, his newly dyed blonde hair sticking in all directions. He looked scary and adorable at the same time.
Biting your lip, you tilted your head to meet his eyes. “You wanted to see me?”
The scowl deepened, if that was possible. “No, I didn’t.”
You snapped your head towards Jinhee at that, who was walking backwards to the elevator again, facing you with a cheerfully bitchy grin on her face. You should’ve known Yoongi wouldn’t invite anybody to his personal studio. 
Abruptly, he grabbed your arm and pulled you in. “But since you’re here anyway, I can make use of you.” 
The last thing you saw before the door slammed shut was Jinhee’s grin vanishing. 
“This feels like a prank.”, you breathed, gazing around at Yoongi’s cozy work space like you were in the inner sanctum of Satan’s abode. 
Yoongi looked offended. “Do I look like a pre-pubescent kid to you?”
You grinned. 
“No, don’t answer that.” He held up a finger, waving it at your face indignantly. “And wipe that stupid grin off your face or I’ll throw you out.”
“Such harsh threats.”
“Remind me why I invited you in here again?”
“You didn’t invite, you manhandled me in like a caveman.”
“Right.” Yoongi adjusted the headphones, positioning them so only one side covered his ear, then he pointed at the small sectional placed sideways along the length of the small room. “Sit down, Y/n, and make yourself as invisible as possible. I don’t want it to feel like I actually have another person present in here with me.”
Blinking at his absurdity, you absentmindedly took a seat, regarding him owlishly. “You pulled me in here to be decoration?”
“No, that implies you’re aesthetically pleasing.”
“Hey!”
Yoongi held up his hands, leaning against the opposite shelf full of random figurines and trophies. “I’m in a stump, okay. I just need some inspiration.”
“Why are you in a stump?” Pulling back into the comfy back cushion, you rested an arm along the backrest, practically melting into his sofa before eyeing him up and down. For all intents and purposes it looked like you were an evil moustache-twirling movie villain checking out the innocent, shy virgin. 
A hot, sinful, non-virgin who’s glaring at me like I ran over his puppy.
You straightened up with a cough. “I mean, your new album’s already done, right?”
He raised a haughty brow. “So? What has that got to do with anything? I don’t make music because I want to cram it into albums and assembly line them out just to make a quick buck.”
You were pretty sure he was making more than just a “quick buck” from all his royalties.
“No. I meant that you already have so much on your plate, right?”, you improvised, that was totally not what you’d meant. “You have to memorise the new songs, choreography and I know you guys have been practicing and shooting day in and day out. You can put off composing for a bit.”
Yoongi smirked, and you swear you saw a hint of pity in his eyes, making you scowl. 
“Oh, you mortal. The trifling restrictions of fatigue and overwork are so human. Vampires are above such waste of time.”
You ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, a habit you’d picked up from Jeongguk. Did you really think Yoongi was going to appreciate your show of care?
“Well, then. Let’s hear it.” You waved your hand in a “get on with it” motion.
“What?”
“Your new music. Maybe a second opinion on it will help.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”, he deadpanned. 
Your middle finger itched to salute him.
“This feels strangely symbolic.”, you huffed, crossing your arms across your chest. Yoongi’s eyes briefly dipped to your breasts but they were back on your face before you could call him out. “You don’t actually need me but I’m here anyway. I’m going to be accompanying you guys across the world, wasting my precious time and company money, just to sit prettily on a couch somewhere in a hotel room, just like I’m doing right now. I feel useless.”
“Keeping us fed isn’t being useful enough for you?”
You could tell Yoongi regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. 
His slight cringe at his demeaning rhetorical question was masked by his usual stoic expression in just a few seconds, but you didn’t do anything to mask your hurt, flinching as if he’d slapped you. 
Standing up, you rushed towards the door. There was only so much verbal sparring with Yoongi you were equipped to endure. 
When you pulled the doorknob the door didn’t budge. Checking to make sure the it was unlocked, you pulled again. No luck.
“I didn’t mean that.” Yoongi’s soft whisper came from directly behind you. You glanced up to see his hand on the smooth wooden surface, a flat palm keeping the door firmly shut. You hadn’t even heard him move.
“That’s a weird way of apologising.” You futilely pulled on the knob again. It’s like it was suddenly made of reinforced steel. “Let fucking go.”
Yoongi chuckled huskily, his breath tickling the hair at the nape of your neck. You shivered, all too aware of his close proximity. 
“If I let go and you pull at the same time, you’re gonna get a face full of wood. Unless you want a few teeth removed, I suggest stepping back.”
Huffing in annoyance, you spun to face him, your back pressed to the door as he crowded you against it. “Unless you want to get socked in the jaw, I suggest apologising. Right now.”
Try as he might he couldn’t suppress the amused grin that took over his face. The fucker was laughing at you. The audacity.
“I’m warning you, Yoongi, I’m gonna wipe that shit-eating grin off your face with my fist.” You stomped your foot. 
His smile just widened, he was looking down at you as if you were circus amusement. “I’d like to see you try, baby.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not that word. 
 “Don’t “baby” me. You haven’t earned it and it’s not gonna work.”
“Hmm.”, he hummed, leaning closer with a contemplative look. His other hand came up to join the first in trapping you against the exit. “How do I earn it?”
Two could play at this game. 
Circling your hand around his waist, you pulled him closer, catching him off guard. His eyes widened in shock. You smiled evilly. “Say “I’m sorry I’m such a douchebag, Y/n. I took my perma-bitchy attitude a little too far and I’m ashamed at my asshole-ish behaviour. Committed to repenting, I will reflect on my actions in order to not repeat them in the future.”” 
He raised an eyebrow, not fazed at all. “Did you just call me a douchebag, a bitch and an asshole all in one breath?”
“Yes. Now say it or you don’t get to call me baby. Ever.”
Letting out an agonized sigh, as if pained, he lamented, “You drive a hard bargain, Y/n.” The sudden sincerity in his eyes made you go still. “How about I apologise and tell you exactly how wrong you are. You’re the opposite of useless. You’re practically the most important person in our lives. And not just because of the obvious reasons.”
Tilting your head, you eyed him cautiously. Your noses were almost touching and at your wary expression he wrinkled his to bump against yours, startling you. If you weren’t mad at him you would have cooed at his cute antics. 
“I’m listening.”, you said at length. 
“I’m not a sappy guy unless I’m writing songs, Y/n—”
“I can tell.”
“—so I’m only gonna say this once.” He frowned.  “Also, don’t interrupt me, got it ?”
He was expecting a response, so you rolled your eyes. “Yes, your highness.”
“Smartass.” 
Brushing a few tendrils of hair off the side of your face, he softly cupped your left cheek. You couldn’t look away from his piercing gaze. “Metaphors are the only way I can describe what you are to us, Y/n. As immortals our instincts are primal things to us, as fundamental and true as the universe itself. A universe where you’re the sun and we revolve around you. Our centre and our light. We want you with us, everywhere we go, because like a pair of magnets we seek you out involuntarily, to complete us. Can’t you tell? Certainly you’re not oblivious to how one of us is always buzzing around your office like an overeager bee around a flower?”
Did he just call you a sun, a flower and a… magnet, all in one breath? No wonder he was making millions off of his writing alone. 
You evaded his eyes, blushing hard. “That-that’s not true. Taehyung’s not like that.”, you hedged, going with the easiest anomaly to his explanation, although there were many more. 
Yoongi sighed, hooking his finger under your chin to push your face up, eyes meeting his. The levity there was startling. “He’s always been stubborn as fuck and too used to getting what he wants. Both him and Jeongguk have always been the spoiled ones. But where Jeongguk has grown out of that phase, Taehyung will deny his own compulsions till the end of time if it meant he could continue being a tenacious asshole.”
“His own compulsions?” Were you purposefully fishing for flattery?
Yoongi obliged you with a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked playful, a rare sight. “If you’re the sun, he’s Pluto. The outlier who wants to pretend he’s not with the rest of us, but still circling around you.”
You burst out laughing. “Yoongi, your metaphors are cheesy.”
He grinned at your mirth. “Get this.”, he paused. “If you’re a magnet, he’s steel. Trying so hard not to be attracted to you, but failing miserably.” 
“Stop!” Yoour cheeks hurting from trying to contain the giggles. “That was straight up embarrassing! And not even scientifically accurate.”
He shrugged, snickering himself. “If my humour’s so embarrassing, why are you dying laughing.” 
“I’m not.”
“Okay, then here’s another one.” You braced yourself as he pulled you impossibly closer. “He’s Kim Jong-Un and you’re a Kpop concert, he wants to bop along so bad but ca—”
“Fuck.” You slapped a hand over his mouth, cracking up again. “No, you’re not going there.” 
He let you shut him up, his eyes almost disappearing into crescents above your hand as he watched you try to ease your hysterics. Suddenly he perks up, pulling you away from the door towards his computer.
“What?”, you breathed, still huffing out tiny giggles.
“I need you.”
At his blunt words, your heart clenched in your chest. But he just pushed you down in his chair, reaching for his mic and positioning it before you. He stood behind you, towering over your form as he pulled up an application on the screen.
“I need to record your laugh. For research purposes.”, he informed, clicking away at his keyboard. 
He was giving you heart palpitations. 
“For research purposes?”, you repeated dryly. 
“Yeah. Did I stutter?” A few mouse clicks and he’s pushing the mic right up against your face with an expectant look. 
You gave him owlish eyes. “You want me to fake a laugh?”
“Fake? Fuck no. Laugh like you were just now.”
“You were making me! With those terrible metaphors.”
He opened his mouth but you cut him off.
“No! Not anymore, please!”
He gave you a shit eating grin. “You leave me no choice then.”
You seized up. “Wha—”
You were so focused at the devil above you, you didn’t even notice his stealthy hands reach for your ribs around the sides of the chair. A swift movement, and his fingers were under your shirt, brushing against your bare skin. 
“NO!”, you howled, immediately cracking up. You were so goddamn ticklish, and he couldn’t have known, but he just discovered another one of your human weaknesses to exploit. 
“Yoongi! Stop, damn it, you stupid motherf—” At that he doubled up, peering at your upturned, red face below him as he sought your stomach. Trying to push his hands away didn’t work, he was too strong, so you reached up to slap that smug, evil grin from his face. 
“You sound like a goat, but I guess I can work with it.” 
Lies. He was enjoying this a little too much. Way too much. The feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips felt like heaven, your laughter music. He didn’t want to stop touching you, he wanted to explore. And elicit a much different reaction. He wondered if you’d let him record your moans too?
When his wrist accidentally brushed your bra, he knew he had to stop. His dick was twitching in his pants, threatening to salute you and expose his insouciance for what it was, a facade. He pulled away, finally letting you breathe.  
Bracing yourself against his desk, you caught your breath, thoroughly winded. “I’m going to kill you, Min Yoongi.” 
He patted your head patronisingly. “Okay, baby, I’ll be waiting. Right now, scram. I gotta get back to work.”
“Huh?” Your scrambled brain took a second to catch up while Yoongi rolled his chair away from the computer, grasping your shoulders and effectively pushing you out of it before occupying your vacated seat smoothly. Snatching a pillow from the couch, he put it in his lap, rolling back to face the computer and away from you. 
You stood there, a little lost. One second you were in the chair, the other out of it.
“Close the door on your way out.”
The keyboard and mouse clicking resumed, punctuating your dismissal. 
This mercurial, frustrating, sexy-as-fuck vampire!
With a huff, you strode towards the door. “Hope you fuck up all your demos, Min Yoongi.”
His amused laugh followed you out. 
~.~.~
Two weeks later and its time for your first trip around the world as food for seven vampires. You were never going to let up on this joke, even if it was only for self-entertainment. After the Tickle-gate with Yoongi, the boys appearance around your office had become a little scarce due to their comeback approaching. For the last four days, you hadn’t even seen them. The day of the release had been yesterday and after a brief comeback showcase, they were flying off to America today. No music shows, no additional interviews. Their domestic promotions had certainly dwindled down ever since they reached global stardom. But their Korean fandom was as loyal as ever, considering they were already topping all domestic charts there were.
Would they still be loyal if they found out about me?
Not likely. 
Which was why you were sure you were flying the 12 hour flight from Incheon to LAX in economy with the other staff. You looked forward to the full body cramp that was going to accompany your movie marathon. You had decided you were going to watch every vampire themed movie that was available, yes, even Twilight. The occasion demanded it. 
A quick hug goodbye to Jisoo, with another promise of A-lister autographs you didn’t intend on keeping, and you were off. Time to meet the co-ordis who knew their secret. Especially Seulgi the vampire, who Jeongguk had given head to. 
Your mood sky-dived. Suddenly, you wanted to turn tail and cuddle with Jisoo in your bed again. 
Ryowook’s smiling face greeted you as soon as you stepped outside your apartment. 
“What are you doing here?”, you asked, surprised to see the chauffeur. 
“My day job, ma’am.” He opened the back door of the company Mercedes. “I have orders to take you to the airport.”
“Why wasn’t I told about this?” You slipped inside nonetheless. “And I could have just travelled with the other staff, this is waste of fuel and your time Ryowook-ssi.”
He smiled that patient smile of his, the one that told you were being ridiculous without a word out of his mouth. 
You sighed. “Am I going to meet them at check-in?”
Another serene smile. “Certainly.”
You gave up, relaxing back into the expensive leather to watch the city zoom past. 
A short drive and he was dropping you at Terminal 1. One of Bighit’s on-call bodyguards met you there, taking your bag and signalling you to follow him without a word. You did so, a little weirded out now. Why couldn’t they just have you travel with the staff? What was up with the whole passing you along like a relay race baton situation?
In a confused daze, you hurriedly followed the buff man as he bypassed the Terminal 1 entry gate, instead leading you along the side of the huge building and towards a smaller entrance manned by airport police clad in black and bearing assault rifles. 
The signboard above read FBO in large bold letters. 
“What’s an FBO?”, you asked the bodyguard, quickening your pace to catch up to him as he entered after showing his ID. They let you in after a brief look at your passport. 
“Fixed Base Operator. The airport gives this terminal to all private jet companies operating here.”
Your feet tripped over nothing. “What?”
The man was already handing over your bag to a handsome man in a steward’s uniform, who quickly ran it through a scanner. 
“Can I have your handbag too, ma’am?”, the young flight attendant blinded you with a too white smile. 
You wordlessly handed it over, feeling as if you were in a twilight zone. 
In less than ten seconds, you were off again. This time the flight attendant carried your bags for you as he led you and the bodyguard out the exit and onto the tarmac. In the near distance you could see the large commercial airliners taking off, some of them  flying directly overhead. To your right were hangars, much smaller planes parked inside or out on the ramp. 
Ahead of you stood a dark blue private jet the size of a large bus. The front cockpit part was long, the nose cone almost one fourth the size of the whole plane. It’s empennage was painted a bright gold and a golden stripe ran along its fuselage. It looked like it was made for royalty. 
The air was heavy with jet exhaust fumes, but the atmosphere felt different than your regular plane boardings. No body checks, no lines, no waiting times, no airbridges and no snooty economy flight attendants that frowned when you asked for water. 
The two men let you ascend the stairs built into the clamshell-style door first. Still quite not being able to process reality, you airily boarded the small plane, jaw hitting the floor with your first step in. 
You thought it’d be cramped, the plane was pretty compact after all. 
It was not. 
Two plush leather recliner chairs, that looked like you could melt on them, were spaced evenly on one side. Four more faced each other in pairs of two, with a polished table in between, on another. Dim lights gave a regal ambience to the interior, every shiny surface reflecting a golden glow. A large tv was mounted on the wall and an open entryway led to the back. You spied a long L shaped couch piled high with throw cushions behind the recliners, complete with an electric fireless fireplace below the tv. 
You didn’t know how long you stood there gaping. 
“Is everything okay, ma’am?” The flight attendant’s voice made you snap your mouth close. The young man smiled apologetically when you turned to him. “If something’s not to your liking, please let me know.”
Not to my liking? As of three minutes ago I thought I was going to be doing contortions in a shoe box sized seat for the next 12 hours.
You shook your head at him, glancing at the bodyguard still standing at the entrance. 
“You’re coming with?”
“I have orders to stand guard till the boys arrive in an hour.”
“In an hour?”, your brows raised. “Why am I so early?”
He side eyed the attendant, who quickly took the hint. 
“Would you like some champagne, ma’am?”
Who wouldn’t? “Yes, thank you.”
After he left, the bodyguard answered you. “Precaution. No more than the necessary people should see you with them.”
“Ah.” Of course. 
You hadn’t noticed but their fansites were probably camping outside already. 
You wanted to ask why exactly you needed to be on the same plane with them, but held your tongue. He likely didn’t know why such odd whims struck those vampires. 
Letting yourself marvel at space around you, you plopped down on one of individual recliners. Your back met the pillowy leather and the footrest elevated your feet, till you were practically draped over the chair in a relaxed puddle. The thing felt like a cloud surrounding you. 
Soon, the attendant came back with a silver tray full of hors d’oeuvres and a flute of champagne. He set it on a pull out table that magically materialised from below the recliner.  
“There’s a mini bar built into the armrest of every chair.” He tapped once and it flipped open to reveal neatly lined bottles of water, soda and alcohol. “You can adjust your chair from the controls on the other side.” He pointed to a sleek panel. 
“Okay, thank you.” You smiled at him. 
He beamed back. “Of course.” He pointed to a bell shaped button above you. “If you need anything, I’m one press away.”
You nodded, sighing when he left you alone. Sipping the bubbly drink, you let your thoughts drift to the ordeal ahead of you. 
Ordeal because soon Taehyung was gonna be confined in a small space with you for an extended period of time. The first time you’d see his face after the humiliating incident in the conference room. Also because you still had difficulty facing Jimin after his unnerving exposition. Because you still didn’t know where you stood with Namjoon and didn’t want to “accidentally” do tongue acrobat with Jeongguk again. You were giving Yoongi the silent treatment for Ticklegate, so there was that.
So by process of elimination you were going to stick to either Seokjin or Hoseok like barnacles on a turtle this entire plane ride. 
Mind made up, you took out your laptop to do some work while you waited for them.
You frowned when the sleek black screen of your computer took more than its usual half a second to light up. Glancing closer, you pressed the power button again, doing a double take when your blurry reflection on the screen shimmered.
Blinking a few times, you shook your head, clearing whatever cobwebs in your retina which were making you see things. 
Nothing doing. 
You squinted at the screen.
 A black blob, eerily close to the shape of an almost skeletal hand, seemed to materialise over your shoulder in the hazy reflection. 
Your heart pounded. 
“You look comfortable, pretty girl.”
At the sudden voice, you shrieked, jumping ten feet in the air. 
The rest of the boys came rushing into the plane at your panicked scream. All of them, except Taehyung who ambled inside without a care in the world, stared at you in confused worry.
“What happened?”, Namjoon demanded, scanning you from head to toe.
Placing a hand over your chest, you willed yourself to calm down. “Nothing. Hoseok just scared me.”
“Hobi.”, Hoseok corrected.
 Yoongi smirked at your laptop. “Were you watching porn?”
At the reminder, you glanced down at your powered up computer, now showing you the login screen, demanding your password. No sign of creepy reflections anywhere.
Huh. Weird. 
Maybe the last few weeks had made you paranoid.
“I’m not talking to you.”, you muttered, not looking up at him.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Dramatic much? I just tickled you a bit, you’re making a big deal out of it.”
“You did what?”, Jin asked, confused at the non-sequitur. Hoseok took the seat beside yours, making himself comfortable as the rest of the boys moved inside too. 
You surreptitiously watched out of the corner of your eyes as Taehyung made a beeline for the door at the back, disappearing from your vision. 
“Tickled her.”, Yoongi deadpanned. “For purely professional purposes.”
Jeongguk gave him an owlish look, dumping his backpack on the sectional. “Your kinks are getting weirder day by day, hyung.”
Hoseok ignored them, turning to you, concern etched on his brows. “You didn’t have any problem getting here, did you pretty girl? It was crowded outside.”
“I was early.” You chuckled, reaching for one of the dainty snacks the flight attendant had put out. “I hate airport security and I have an irrational fear about missing flights. Turns out I didn’t have anything to worry about.”
 You gestured to your surroundings, chewing the savoury goodness slowly. Wow. Did they have a Michelin star chef on call too?
“Oh, yeah.” Hoseok looked around, as if noticing the extravagance for the first time. “I guess it is convenient.”
“That’s one way to put it.” You proffered up the tray to him. “Want some? It’s really good.”
Running a hand through his blonde hair, he eyed the tray as if you were offering him live snakes to consume.
“I’m sure it is. But I can’t.”
Frowning, you put the tray down. Were you missing something here? “I know you guys eat food. Jeongguk told me so the first day we...met.”
A chagrin smile appeared on his face. “We could. Human food has no nutritional value for us but we can still consume it to keep up appearances sometimes. A variety show or advertisements for fried chicken, things like that.”
Guess there was a lot you still didn’t know about them. They did ads for food they didn’t even eat. But then again, this was nothing compared to some of the other stuff you had come to know. “But you don’t like it?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing compared to blood but some unmated vampires like it anyways. Jimin used to love eating candies.”
You frowned, reaching for another cheese and meat combo. “Used to?”
For a brief second, Hoseok’s mellow eyes flickered down to your jugular. He spoke before you could make something of it, his voice soft. “Everything tastes like dry ash on our tongues now that we’ve had your blood.”
That made you swallow down the antipasti prematurely. 
He continued. “And you know we can’t drink any other blood. It’ll poison us.”
Namjoon’s suffocating, blue-tinged face flashed in your mind and you nodded. 
“Ugh.”, you dithered, uneasy with the conversation and Hoseok’s focused gaze. “So...”, lamely, you tried changing the topic. “What am I doing after we land?”
A snide scoff made you turn in your seat to look at Namjoon sprawled on the chair behind yours. “Don’t tell me you’re still squeamish at every mention of blood, y/n.”
“What do you mean still? Am I supposed to be comfortable with it just because you’re vampires?”, you huffed, annoyed at his judgemental expression. 
He glanced down at his phone, avoiding your eyes and you swear you heard him mutter “Gina was” under his breath but Jimin spoke before you could clobber him over the head for his audacity. 
“I saw Taehyung after he returned. He looked like he’d just mauled a bear and I know he’d just been with you. How are you still not desensitised after all that?”
Jimin was perched on the table, his newly dyed black hair swept back off his forehead as he leant back on his hands. 
You gave the breathtaking man a challenging look. “You’d know about desensitisation, wouldn’t you?”
Yoongi choked on air, Jeongguk’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. You heard Hoseok inhale sharply from beside you, but you didn’t look to see the other’s reaction, continuing as if you hadn’t dropped a I-know-about-Jimin-committing-murder sized bomb on their heads. 
“Besides, the blood on him wasn’t mine.”
Jimin grinned, his eyes almost disappearing into crescent moons. He appeared the picture of loveable cuteness, except for the fact that he was smiling at the mention of his grave crimes. “Touché, love. But I know that it wasn’t yours. If there’s anything we’d never be desensitised to, it is the downright mouthwatering smell of your blood. No...,”, he rubbed his chin, faux contemplative, prodding your challenge by reminding you of the conspicuous brutality of their kind. “He’d done some desensitisation of his own before coming to you.”
The “he” in question was as silent as a monk with a mute vow, not a peep heard from the back of the plane. You glared at the doorway, knowing very well that Taehyung could hear even a pin drop from inside the bustling airport, let alone this conversation three metres away. He was sticking to his pretending-you-were-invisible agenda, it seemed. 
The rest six of them were watching you closely. Now that they knew about your knowledge of their kinds’ propensity to violence, they likely were apprehensive about your reaction. Well, you’d give them none. 
In a room full of predators who’ve declared you their only prey, vulnerability and fear would only feed into the control they thought they had over you. 
You faced them again, shrugging. 
Jimin smirked. “No snarky comments? Why this preferential treatment towards Tae? You like the ones who don’t give you attention, love?”
“Enough, Jimin.”, came Jin’s brusque command. He was seated at the table too, turning around to give you a soft, apologetic glance. “I think what they all want to bring up, in a round about, idiotic way, is that it’s been weeks since we last fed. Though, me, Namjoon and Yoongi can last a few weeks more, the younger ones might be feeling it.”
You froze. Of course. What the hell did you think they brought you here for?
“Whatever you’re thinking, baby,”, Yoongi cut off your musings, narrowing his perceptive eyes at you. “It’s probably bullshit. We would have brought you with us no matter what, anxiety would have eaten us alive if we hadn’t.”
“And I’m not feeling it.”, Hoseok rushed to add from beside you, gently taking your hand in his, stroking the pulse at your wrist with his thumb. “Hungry that is. My endurance isn’t the best, but it’s working as of now.”
“Taehyung fed from you not too long ago, I’m sure he’s fine too.”, Namjoon nonchalant voice came from behind you. 
How Taehyung could tolerate them talking about him as if he wasn’t there, you’d never know. 
Sighing, your gaze shifted to the remaining two who had yet to speak as to their appetite. 
Jimin had an unreadable expression on his face as he contemplated you, his shirt riding up to expose his toned abdomen as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the thick locks back off his forehead. A habit of his which you hadn’t taken long to notice. 
Jeongguk regarded you with his head tilted. Unlike Jimin, you could read him like a book. His open, almost guileless eyes held a plea. He didn’t have to say it. He was the youngest, of course he was starving. He was always starving. 
They didn’t say anything, leaving everything up to you. 
“After we reach L.A we can…”, you trailed off, not knowing how to say it. The inexplicable pleasure their bites gave you was something you’d yet to foray into, but it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant experience. The opposite in fact. “Discuss it, I guess.”, you finished lamely, courage fizzling out at the last second. 
You absolutely, could not let them know that maybe, probably, perhaps you wanted them to bite you too. 
Laughter rang out from the behind the curtained doorway, the mocking tone of it clear as day. You scowled, turning back to your laptop. Great. He probably already knew. It wasn’t like you were subtle when you were with him. 
The plane took to the air not long after, clouds encasing everything till the earth below was barely visible. You had sought your work to escape, though Hoseok managed to occasionally snag your attention with the effortless ease of his conversation. 
Eventually he slipped away to join the others at the table, raucous laughter filling the small plane from their bickering and roughhousing. Being immortal creatures with untold strength, an ignorant human might expect the vampires to be sophisticated and mysterious, but these boys were as much a mix of puerile childishness (or in laymen’s terms ‘a bunch of idiots’) as one would expect of any young men in their twenties. 
Of course, the polished but ‘normal’ surface they presented to the world, to their fans, to relate to was only skin deep. Scratch a little and you’ll find a horrifying reality few would be able to stomach. You wondered what someone else would do in your shoes. Some other girl, maybe one of their fans. Thank all the gods in existence for binding you to them so intrinsically or curse them for hurtling you into a grim world of cruelty you were ill-prepared for? 
These questions plagued your mind as your fingers typed away on your computer. Somebody had pulled out UNO cards and you could hear the competitive Jeongguk loudly complaining about Hoseok’s shuffling as Yoongi dropped a draw four card on him just as he was about to win. 
As you said, a bunch of ‘normal’ idiots. Not quite. 
As you were examining your coding for errors, Seokjin came to sit down beside you. Unsurprisingly, like much of his personality, his cologne was the mild soothing kind instead of headache inducing intense.
You took a deep breath. “Not interested in card games?”
To your surprise, he pouted, long lashes fanning his downturned gaze adorably. He was wearing glasses, which suited his beautiful face criminally more than they ever did you.“No. They never let me win anyways.”
You found yourself smiling inspite of yourself. “You’re a sore loser then?”
“No.” He returned your grin. “I just think they’re disrespectful making me lose after everything I do for them.”
“Just say you’re bad at cards, hyung!”, Jimin shouted. 
Both of you ignored him. 
“They are disrespectful.”, you concurred. 
“Thank you. But you’re sitting here by yourself, don’t you wanna join them?”
“No, I’m a sore loser too.” You tilted your head at your laptop. “Besides I have work to finish.”
Jin spared a fleeting glance at it, before furrowing his brows at you. “I know you were pretty much ordered to come with us, but this isn’t a work trip for you. You can put it off till you’re back. An impromptu vacation, maybe.”
Biting your lip, you considered his tempting words for all of two seconds. Cracking a knuckle on your other palm, you shook your head. “A lot of people doubt the integrity of my employment already. I have something to prove. This game could be big for me.”
Slowly, as if approaching a spooked deer, Jin extended his hands to yours. You watched as he took one of your hands in both of his, warm skin stroking your cold one. “The people you’re talking about, most of them are just jealous. They, along with anyone else who dares to look down on you, don’t deserve a spare thought in your mind. You have nothing to prove to anybody but yourself.”
His eyes showed nothing but sincerity and you found yourself leaning into his gravitational pull. He was a beacon of warmth and security. Akin to a down bed piled with soft blankets and feathery pillows after a long, tiring day. 
“That’s easy to say but that’s not how real life works.”, you whispered. 
Jin smiled, tugging your hand into his lap. “Real life works how I want it to work. If you want to be the most renowned software engineer in the country, then that’s what will happen. If I can’t fulfill your every wish then what kind of a mate am I?”
Your breath hitched. What he was saying was so morally skewed but it caused flutters in your chest nonetheless. Like a penguin offering a pebble to a mate he’d chosen for life. But no, there was no choice involved here. 
“That’s—”, you cleared your throat, pulling back a little though he didn’t let you go far, tightening his grip on your hand. “That’s wrong, Jin.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. Self indulgence often is. And seeing you happy because of me might be the greatest indulgence of all.”
You pursed your lips against a shy smile. That was the most romantic but fucked up thing anyone had ever said to you. He clearly didn’t have any reservations about nepotism. As long as he got what he wanted.
You wondered if no-moral-compass came complementary with the supernatural tag. 
“You were typing for a long time. Do your fingers hurt?”, he asked softly, tugging your other hand into his lap too.
They didn’t, but you nodded anyway. 
Biting his bottom lip in concentration, he got to work on your right hand. He touched you as if you were made of delicate china, tenderly massaging your palm with his long fingers. His hands were a work of art themselves, thin blue veins decorating his porcelain skin in the most beautiful patterns.   As he caressed your wrist, you got lost in the repetitive motion of his hands, coming to when he moved to your fingers, stretching them not so gingerly.
“Ow.”
“Sorry, beautiful. You were cracking your knuckles, so I figured they needed a little tug.”, he murmured, not looking up from his ministrations. 
“It’s a bad habit.” His intense focus made you wonder how much effort he was putting not to go overboard with his strength. He could crush your bones to dust in a matter of seconds no doubt. 
Jin moved to your left hand, massaging it in the same manner till your hands positively tingled with static electricity. 
“You’re so good at this.”, you complimented, sighing in contentment when he moved to your forearm. 
Jin chuckled at the bliss on your face. “We don’t need it but massage feels good after a long practice anyway. We’re a slave to sensations as much as you humans. I’m used to doing this for the rest.”
“They should kiss your hands.”, you said thoughtlessly. 
He stopped his movements for a second, continuing when you opened your eyes. 
“Will you?”, he implored, smirking. 
Maybe his massage had mellowed you out or maybe it was him, but you felt playful. You smiled coquettishly. “Do my shoulders and I will kiss your lips.”
Silence.
If this was a movie scene you would see tumbleweeds rolling out of nowhere. You almost regretted your words. But then...
Jin grabbed your upper arms and in one swift motion you were facing the other way, your back to him. His hands immediately attached themselves to your shoulders, rolling your muscles in a way that let slip an involuntary moan out of you two seconds in. 
Jin tensed behind you at the sound. 
“Fuck, pretty girl.”, you heard a groan from Hoseok. “Hyung’s massages are mediocre at best, you should have come to me if you wanted your shoulders rubbed.”
You suppressed a smile at his grumbling, Jin resuming his amazing, rhythmic motions. 
Yoongi’s words were barely audible. “How is that fair? I’m not gonna massage no one, but I want kisses.”
That mercurial man, you swore he oscillated between a cynical, grumpy old man and mischievous cherub like a pendulum.
“It’s worth it, hyung.”, Jeongguk chimed. “I’m speaking from experience.”
Flushing at the reminder, you leaned back against the eldest, almost unconsciously. Skewed sense of morality aside, his presence was very comforting. You tuned the rest of them out when you felt Jin’s breath at the nape of your neck, making you shiver at the sensation. 
He chuckled. “You’re so putty in my hands.” 
You were. The dim lighting inside the cabin, the soft murmurs of the boys and Jin’s ministrations were working together to turn you into a sleepy puddle. Giving up against gravity, you let your back meet Jin’s chest, nestling into him without too much thought. You heard his breath hitch, but he accommodated you immediately, pulling you closer in by wrapping his arms around your waist till you were in his lap, your legs on the chair you previously occupied. 
“Comfortable?”, he whispered in your ear. 
“Mhm.”, you murmured, sighing when Jin put his arms around you, one hand reaching up to caress your tresses. “You make a great chair.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He adjusted your position, stirring you a little away from sitting directly on his crotch and you blushed when you realised why, not commenting on it. 
Letting yourself relax, you switched off your overworked brain for a while. For the last few weeks you had been constantly on your toes either stressing about your new job or coming to terms with being ‘fated’ to seven men. Maybe you would take up Jin’s suggestion and treat this trip as a vacation, when else were you going to get a luxury, all expenses paid week off? 
As Jin placed a soft kiss on your head, you paused in your thought. If things continued as they were, this could be your new reality. Weeklong journeys to other continents just because the boys wanted you with them. The thought made you scowl. Was it really a vacation when you were shackled to them by the contract you had signed and promotions you had accepted?
“You know.”, Jin’s silky voice brought you out of your spiral down regret. “There’s a queen-sized bed in the back. If you want, you can nap till we land. Stretch out your limbs.”
You perked up, a bed sounded amazing. “Yes please.”
Jin brushed your hair behind your ear. “Do you want me to carry you?”
That made you jerk upright. “Ugh, no. I’m not a baby.”
“Tragic.”, he teased, making you wrinkle your nose at him. Before he let you go, he warned, “I want that kiss later. Don’t think I forgot.”
Flustered, you sprung up with a one-track mind and a tunnel vision aiming for the bed, noticing the other members either reading or on their phone, airpods in their ears. You could faintly hear music blasting from Yoongi’s. Must be nice having undamageable eardrums. 
Beyond the entryway, the back of the plane was a decent-sized room which had windowsill seating on one side and a bed on the other. A bed which was occupied by the last person you wanted to face. 
Taehyung lounged on the centre of the plush bed, reclining against propped up pillows. He paid you no mind, swiping through the ipad in his hand as if he hadn’t heard you come in. 
Of course. You were invisible to him after all. 
Rolling your eyes at his petulance, you changed course to the small door with the universal toilet sign illuminated above. You really needed to pee, not giving a single fuck about the rest of them being able to hear you while you did so. For some reason your usual shyness and jitters around hot boys had been obliterated ever since you had come in contact with them. You didn’t understand why, but suspected it was because of their assertiveness and power over you that made you throw caution to the wind so often lately, maybe your unconscious attempt at getting back some control over your life. Before them, you’d never have the nerve to use a guy as handsome as Jin as your personal masseuse and cushion. If they wanted your company, they would get that and everything that came along with it. 
When you were done, you emerged to find the bed empty. Seeing your chance, you plopped face down on it, crawling lethargically towards the pillowcase as you shirked your hoodie. If he wanted to play hide and seek, he was more than welcome to ignore you and stay up-front while you slept the flight away. 
Pulling the covers over yourself, you nuzzled the soft sheets, settling in for a good shut-eye, a luxury you had never before experienced on a plane ride. 
But when do things ever turn out in your favour?
Just when your eyes were starting to droop Taehyung’s snide tone jerked you awake.
“Stowaways stay in the front.”
You sprung up like a spooked cat, gaze blurry. “Huh?”
There he stood, arms crossed and a blank expression on, looking like Adonis in a plain blue set of pyjamas. Unfairly stunning. 
“You’re in my bed.”
Deliberately taking your time, you rubbed your eyes, yawning. You pondered your surroundings for a moment, enjoying the clenching of his jaw the longer you sat their playing dumb. “I don’t see your name on it.”
He was silent for a few moments regarding you with poorly concealed vexation. Then he uncrossed his arms, stepping towards the bed with eyes locked on you. 
You gulped. Had you piqued the tiger already? 
Thankfully he stopped a good distance away, bringing his hand up to the headboard. Your confused frown turned into horrified amazement at the light sound of scratching, your eyes going cartoonishly wide.
The nails atop his long, slender fingers had extended out, looking freakishly similar to claws. And even more bizarrely, they cut through the hardwood like it was nothing more than room temperature butter. 
When his hand dropped, the letter V was etched onto the headboard, mockingly asking you ‘how about now?’.
“Did you just vandalise the plane?”, you blurted, shocked. 
He sneered. “Are you gonna snitch to BangPD like the trusty little employee you are?”
You could tell a patronising jab when you heard one. 
“Atleast I’m not a coward who can’t even face the person they accosted. But then again I would feel ashamed too.”
Taehyung scoffed, not entertaining your accusations for a second. “Accosted? I remember you begging me to make you cum. You fell apart on my fingers very willingly, Y/n. And I wasn’t ignoring you, not purposefully, you’re not that relevant.”
Actions and consequences. If you slapped him right now, what would happen? You were temptingly close to finding out. 
“I seemed very relevant when you were dying for a drop of my blood, asshole.”
A smirk appeared on his face at the word ‘asshole’. He shrugged. “A necessary evil. Now get out of my bed.”
At his curt order, you sat up properly, the covers falling away from your form. Reclining back on your palms, you raised your brows at him. “Or what?”
Taehyung leisurely perused your sprawled figure, not hiding the fact that his gaze lingered on your chest. The tank top you wore under your hoodie was low cut, a hint of your cleavage visible. When you had put it on this morning, you didn’t think you’d take off your hoodie. Airplanes usually left you shivering with ten blankets piled on top of you. 
Your hands itched to pull the fabric up, but that would be a sign of weakness. Instead you let him check you out, raising a mocking brow when his eyes met yours again. “You don’t seem eager to get me out of it.”
Taehyung ran his tongue inside his cheek, leering at you. “Now that I think about it…”
He loomed closer, planting a knee on the space beside you.
At first you thought he might get on top of you, but he merely climbed on, brushing past you to take up the other side. He perched himself like he had before, pointedly looking at you as he stole the two pillows you were going to hug yourself to sleep, propping them behind his back. 
He promptly went back to scrolling on his ipad.
You huffed, slamming yourself down and pulling the covers over you. “If you try any creepy shit, I swear to God…”
He laughed, a loud yet pleasant sound. “Swear to all the Gods you want Y/n, they’re useless.”
You scowled at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Shaking his head, he smiled down at the lit-up screen, as if you were the funniest thing he’d ever seen. A circus clown. “Don’t fret over it, sweetheart. Thank your Gods that I’m a generous vampire willing to share his stuff, and go to sleep.”
Pissed off, you ignored the infuriating man, prioritising the rare experience of sleeping on a bed in a plane instead. 
“Keep to your side.”, you threw out one last warning before pulling the covers over your head, effectively shutting him away. 
The jet reached LAX at 9:30 pm. Jeongguk had come to wake you up half an hour before the landing. Taehyung wasn’t in the bed with you when you woke up but you found a pillow tucked by the side of you where the bed ended, as if to keep you from falling off. You couldn’t decipher your emotions to make out how you felt about that. 
By the time you made yourself presentable again, making full use of the full size mirror in the room, the plane was taxiing on the tarmac. You heard the flight attendant tell the boys about the situation outside, something about a sizeable crowd being present. You joined them as they were telling him they’ll forego the VIP exit for the general one chock full of fans. 
Curiosity made you ask, “Why not VIP? This one could be dangerous for you guys.”
Namjoon gave you a funny look, which the rest seemed to mirror. “Nothing’s dangerous for us Y/n.”
And they left it at that, likely not saying much because of the cabin crew present but you got the message nonetheless. 
Us macho vampires are the danger, not the other way around.
Internally, you scoffed. Did they have to be so full of themselves all the time?
“You’ll use the VIP one. We can’t be seen together, hence the separate exits.”, Yoongi informed. 
“Fine.”, you quipped, VIP meant you’d get a much needed shower sooner. 
“We’ll leave first. One of our managers will escort you out fifteen minutes after we reach our cars.”, continued Yoongi. “Extra precautions just in case.”
Scowling, you pivoted around to head back to the bed, dreams of a shower delayed. 
~•~•~
When you reached the hotel, the personal staff assigned to you informed you that the boys still hadn’t reached. Some official schedule that you frankly tuned out because you couldn’t care less. Jet lag was making itself felt and you wanted that shower yesterday. 
“Your bags are in your suite already.”, the same bodyguard who had accompanied you to the plane informed you. 
Suite.
No rooming with other staff then. You weren’t surprised, which made you annoyed. You didn’t want to start expecting this kind of treatment, it was way above your pay grade. 
“Lead the way.”
As soon as you reached the rooms, you barely gave a second glance to the opulence surrounding you, instead making a beeline towards the bathroom. You thanked the staff on the way, kicking off your sandals to feel the plush carpet under your feet. A trail of discarded clothes followed you. 
The bathroom was big. Bigger than your bedroom back home. A mix of french country and rustic, the interior looked straight out of a Good Homes magazine. The small chandelier above the granite bathtub made the centre piece, calling out to you like a siren. Letting yourself succumb to the pull of a nice bubble bath, you turned on the faucet, examining the rustic wooden countertop for your choice of fragrance from the smorgasbord on offer. Selecting cherry blossom, you poured almost half the small bottle in the rising water.
At last, when the water was almost ready to spill over, you turned it off, shirking your bra and panties. A satisfied moan left you as you submerged yourself in the hot water, closing your eyes as you let yourself sit back and loosen up. 
Not keeping track of time, your thoughts didn’t even drift to the boys coming back, so the soft knock on the bathroom door startled you, water splashing over the tub at your movement. 
“Yeah.”, you called out, wiping droplets off your face. 
“Pretty girl?” Hoseok opened the door a crack, respectfully staying outside and not peering in yet. “Can I come in?”
Swallowing, you sat up in the tub, biting your lip. Maybe it was the warm water which had you feeling imprudent, maybe you’d become uncharacteristically impulsive, but you found yourself answering, “Okay.”
The door opened and the dancer ambled inside, pushing it closed behind him. His gait was languid, but his gaze on you was anything but. Although your bare shoulders were the only thing visible above the cloudy, bubbly water, he drank the sight up greedily. 
Licking his bottom lip, he approached you. “Do you want some help?”
You watched him closely, nodding. “Can you wash my hair?”
His face lit up, instantly killing any regrets that could even take root within you. “Please.”
Again, you reclined back as he circled behind you. You heard him rummage through the toiletries on display. “Cherry blossoms?”
You hummed in affirmation. 
“You have amazing taste.”
The denim of his jeans rustled as he kneeled beside the tub. Your lips parted in anticipation when he collected your hair together. 
What was it about this trip that was making them take care of you so tenderly? In one way or another all of them could be capricious when they felt like it, but then they switched gears and made you a skittery mess with just one word or touch. 
“What will I do while you’re all out doing your thing this week?”, you questioned to distract yourself from the tingles running down to your core at his touch.
He ran the hand shover over your hair, careful not to get any water in your eyes. “Anything you want. Some of the staff will be at your disposal if you want to see the city, just let Gian know about it first.”
“Who’s Gian?”
“Your personal bodyguard, the one who dropped you off at the plane.”
You sighed, tilting your head for Hoseok’s convenience. “Why do I need him? I can go sightseeing on my own. Nobody knows me”
“We know you can.”, Hoseok agreed, gently massaging your scalp with the cherry blossom scented shampoo. “But the fact of the matter is, there are other creatures like us out there. And we’re not the most loved among our kind.”
“Huh?” You were thoroughly confused. “Not the most loved. What does that mean?”
Hoseok took a deep breath, as if divulging something against his will, but his hands never stilled. “With our popularity, there’s a very high risk of our secret getting out. Although unbelievable, any slip up on our part could dearly cost the supernatural world. It’s an unspoken rule that we can never arbitrarily reveal our identity to humanity, ever.”
Though you knew the answer, you still asked. “Why?”
“Vampire hunters are real, Y/n. Many of them are human. Sceptics will jump on any chance to prove our existence and try to exterminate us. Supernaturals don’t like the amount of exposure we have because of this.”
Hoseok guffawed, laughing at some inside joke. You heard the clink of bottles as he reached for the conditioner. “Though it could be argued that we don’t like anyone apart from our own selves. We’re notoriously self absorbed creatures.”
Before you could think about them, the words were out of your mouth. “Are mates an exception?”
Hoseok stilled behind you. Then you felt his breath at your ear, not even hearing him move. 
“Yes, we like you very much, pretty girl.” Softly, he pecked the skin below your ear. 
You pouted. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
He chuckled, cascading the water over your head one last time. “I’m sorry we’re so difficult. I can’t imagine how you must feel having to manage seven men all pining for you.” 
He turned the water off. “All done.”
“Okay.” You didn’t know what else to say to his words. 
He didn’t get up, instead leaning one elbow on the edge to peer down at you. You met his eyes, upside down. 
“We wanted to ask you something, pretty girl.”
“Shoot.”
“Would you like to accompany us to the award show? As our plus one.” 
He was completely serious but you burst out laughing anyway.
“One plus to seven people? And what happened to precautions so nobody finds out about me?”
Smiling down at your laughing face he leaned closer ever so slowly. “You can come with us as part of the staff. Or we’ll get you VIP passes. We just want you there, this award is big for us.”
Pursing your lips, you booped his cute, upside down nose. “And who exactly is we?”
He grinned wide, not replying.
You huffed. “I haven’t brought anything suitable to wear if I go as a guest.”
Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about trivial shit like that. Leave it up to me.”
Gazing into his eyes, you blurted your honest answer without thinking too much about it. He had a way of making everything feel easy yet exciting. 
“Fine. Okay.”
The next moment, his mouth was on yours, his bottom lip covering your top one and vice versa. The kiss was upturned and sloppy, evoking a recollection of Peter Parker kissing Mary Jane in an alleyway. 
Hoseok’s tongue met yours eagerly and you tasted each other as if starved. Carding your fingers through his hair, you pulled him closer. His hands clutched your shoulders, keeping you in place for his thorough exploration of your mouth, making you moan at the delightful intrusion. 
After a minute or an hour, you couldn’t tell, he pulled back, a wet sound accompanying the parting of your lips. He looked absolutely devastating with his mouth swollen and hair mussed from your hands, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at you with such barely veiled passion that you shivered. 
He blinked at the goosebumps on your arms, forcefully pulling himself out of the lustful haze. “You must be cold, baby, the water’s cooling down.”
You almost reached for him when he got up, wanting to pull him back into another toe-curling kiss. But he was already making his way out the door.
“There are heated towels on the rack, pretty girl. Dry yourself up, I don’t want you getting sick.”, he ordered, smirking back at you one last time before he left you alone. 
Grumbling under your breath, you did as bidden, wrapping your torso in one huge towel after wiping yourself down. 
After taking out the plug from the tub, you stood in front of the mirror, hand combing your wet hair. 
You were about to wrap your hair in another fluffy towel, when a movement in the mirror reflection made you go still. 
It took a minute to register what you were staring at. The otherwise clear mirror was foggy at the edges due to the steam from your bath, but the hazy form developing itself behind you in the mirror could not be fog. 
It was moving.
Then the mirror rippled. Like it was a silk sheet, not solid fucking glass. 
The murky form was looking eerily close to a human figure the longer you stood there absolutely petrified and bewildered. 
It spoke.
“Y/n!”
It’s hand, if it could be called that, reached out towards you and you were unsure if it was coming from behind you or from inside the mirror. You couldn’t move, all control over your muscles had been snipped, even though some part of your rational mind screamed at you to run, to call for your boys. 
They would protect you. 
“Come with me, y/n! They do not deserve you.”
You moved closer, entranced. But did you really need protecting?
The alluring voice beckoned you forward, and you complied, reaching your hand out to touch the wispy, skeletal one approaching yours. As soon as you were close enough, it lunged to grip you in its trap.
A piercing, excruciating pain flared up in your arm at the first contact with the apparition. The clawed creature was literally burning your skin away, smoke rising from where it clutched your forearm like a vice. 
You bellowed out for your mates. 
A/n: Please let me know what you thought, feedback keeps me writing. 
5K notes · View notes
k1ng-for-a-day · 4 years ago
Note
Can you do fluff and nsfw headcanons the nurse x survivor s/o?i think sally deserves love.. thank you!
Good morning my beautiful demons. The king has finally arrived, and I like to say I’m VERY SORRY for the inactivity. Due to schooling, my motivation to create posts is AWFUL. So please stay patient! If I haven’t gone to your requests, then again I’m sorry.
(And also yes Sally needs more attention 🥺🥺)
(And sorry for this being so short. Again I’m having a huge lack of motivation. Either way thank you very much 💞💞)
The Nurse has arrived...
💊💉 Upon arrival to the realm, you made a quick realization that you were at the Crotus Penn Asylum. This was the worst place that you were put in due to the cathedral like building in front of you. Maybe it was due to the eerie feeling, but something or someone triggered terrible thoughts to your head. Syringes: These tiny little things made you feel nauseous every time it like you. Additionally it made you feel terrified each time one appeared near you. Hell, even when it’s on your hand you start to shriek! These small needles just made you curl up in fetal position, and weep on the floor. It was technically a phobia since it was that bad.
💊💉 Nevertheless you knew you what you had to do. Get generators done, attempt to hide, and escape without blood on your hands. That was all.
💊💉 When you finally reached your first generator, you quietly crouched down and walked towards it, attempting not to alert anyone. Once you reached it you decided to work on the wire portion of the machine since it was an immense hassle. You never enjoyed working these little strings of torment since they would always function improperly, or they would be inadequate. Additionally you despised the fact that it could possibly blow a fuse if you made the wrong plug in, use the incorrect wires, or simply have the incorrect tools for it. (However this only applied with the toolbox). Nevertheless your ambition got the better of you, and you persisted. You wanted to get this terrible gut feeling out of you, so you needed to complete this efficiently.
💊💉 Though you could feel the taste of an exit door holding you graciously, you accidentally put the incorrect wires together. As you stared for an hour or two, you shook your head in disbelief. Shit! They’re going to kill me! You thought for a brief moment, and you quickly went in hiding. You crouched down to a corner, and held onto your knees hoping the killer would just pass by you. The fear of something poking you at any instant grew immensely, and that uneasy gut feeling made you tremble weakly. Your fragile body being slashed at and picked up, your whole entire plan being frabricated in seconds; everything was seemingly ruined. But why did you have this hopeless feeling? There wasn’t anyone near you since there was no terror radius. Then again it could be Ghostface... You thought for a bit, but proceeded back to your Gen. and surprisingly it wasn’t kicked! You completed the generator in no time, and went running to the next one.
💊💉 The next generator you approached was with someone you knew, but never interacted too much with outside the trials. It was Meg: the athletic workaholic. She always loved to loop killers around, and annoy them somewhat. She’s always a bundle of joy during these types of circumstances, and tries to comfort other people. She’s also immensely competitive, yet plays fair. You always strived to be like her, but with her dedication and hard work it’s nearly impossible to make headway like she does. Nevertheless you crouched down next to her, and worked on a different portion of the Gen. This particular portion was the power supply. All you had to do was make sure the energy levels were all evenly dispersed, and if they weren’t you had to remove a piece and plug it in a different section. This was much more difficult to fail since it didn’t require experience with wires and such. It was just a simple “where does it go?” Type of deal. Unfortunately, Meg accidentally blew a fuse do to her sudden excitement. And even worse; you heard a terror radius. You didn’t know who it was in particular, but you were terrified needless to say. You quickly hid in a locker since it was the closest thing near you, even though you knew they would search it. You held onto your mouth, trying not to make a sound, and closed your eyes. You imagined that you were dancing in the middle of your room with your favorite song. The anxious feeling in your stomach was dissolving, but you still heard the terror radius coming closer, closer, and even closer... you started to cry softly, trying not to alert them, but it was too late.
💊💉 When you saw the killer, your eyes shot wide and tears ran down your cheeks. It was the nurse: the most terrifying killer you’ve ever met. You always heard rumors about the syringe she carries, and how aggressive she can be to other survivors. She’s so quick to her feet that she could easily pull you to the ground. It made you tremble immensely to the point you started to cry even more. You never really looked at her hand since you were afraid to encounter the weapon she would carry, but oddly enough she didn’t even take you. She just stared at you blankly, or you assumed she did, and simply patted your head. She realized how scared you were since you were either new to the place, or you had some sort of phobia. In attempt to make you feel a bit more happy, she picked up a flower that she found on the ground, and handed it to you. She then left you in your little closet, hoping that you would come out and feel much more stronger. And surprisingly you were more collected with yourself. You slowly went out of your locker, and walked back to your generator. It was kicked, but not insanely a lot. Just enough to motivate you to continue.
💊💉 And just like that you were finally finished! Now all you had to do was move on to the next generator. And you were done. And fortunately enough your team only needed one more Gen... Coincidentally it was near you, so course you ran towards it.
💊💉 While the nurse was distracted by the other survivors, slashing them one by one, you quickly worked on the wires, slowly placing them in the correct order. You were becoming use to the way everything was, I mean you were slightly new to the world of the entity.
💊💉 For a while you forgot how you ended up here, but that nurse you met reminded you of certain aspects: syringes, people with blurred faces, and a commotion in the halls. That was all you could gather from that meeting. It gave you a chill down your spine, even though now was not the time. You needed to concentrate on your goal, which was to finish the generator and leave. Luckily someone approached you with a soft smile, and that person was Adam. He seemed very nice and philosophical. He would always talk on and on about what he believed, what books he read, and his advice towards you. Sometimes it got to the point you would zone out and forget what you asked him. You could tell he was very intelligent, but his mouth was what led him to victory. Nevertheless you continued on your Gen until you heard a familiar noise... it was the nurse! She was coming straight towards Adam with her hatch saw!
💊💉 Weirdly enough you kept hearing people talk about her holding a syringe instead of a saw. Maybe it was to torment you since you were alarmed easily. But currently it made absolutely no sense why people would confuse such a dangerous object to something more painful like a saw. You shook your head in disbelief, and was about to finish the Gen, however you accidentally blew another fuse! Quickly and quiet you looked behind you, and crouched down near a corner. She was coming quickly and saw you right then and there. She simply stared at you again, and reached her hand out.
💊💉 “Dont be afraid dear child,” she spoke to you, “I won’t hurt you as long as you don’t hurt me.” Her voice seemed to be genuine, semi intangible, and monotone. You took a good look at her before reaching out your hand: she seemingly had a bag on her head for some odd reason. Additionally she had blood all over her white unform. Her blood was possibly due to the other victims she has come acrossed and attacked, but then again it could possibly from her past. You didn’t want to ask since you were terrified. Additionally she seemed very hesitant to actually take you with her. She wasn’t really to sure if she should’ve even picked you to take care of in the current situation. Either way she just hoped you got her message clear. She didn’t want to actually hurt you, she wanted to take you out alive. In response, you reached your hand out and touched her’s. It felt immensely cold, like an ice cube or even a glacier. She then pulled you up from your position, and led you back to your generator. She stood beside you, and let you work on the machine, hoping you would finish it soon enough. She then left you to complete it, and chased down other survivors as well.
💊💉 Once you finished your Gen, you ran to the exit and pulled the gate open as quickly as possible. Someone was near you as well, and that person was Zarina. She waited patiently for the door to open, and asked you a couple questions about your arrival. These questions being “how are you doing so far? Are you alright?” And other similar ones to make sure you were alright. She didn’t want you to be scared, but wanted you to relax for right now. She seemed nice to you, but you weren’t very sure of it. Again, you were still new to this realm, so you didn’t want to mess around too much. As the exit gate opens, you heard that same noise, and suddenly the nurse appeared again! She stood in front of you, holding her saw, ready to strike! But she didn’t... she just stood in front of you... “Be careful dear... others will be harsh...” she told you, somewhat unintangible. You nodded and was about to leave, but you turned back. “Thank you... very much..” you told her and left. For some odd reason you felt saddened for leaving her. It was strange..
💊💉 After you left, you remembered how you came here, but you could barely vision it. A hospital, an exit, patients galore. It all came back to you within seconds it seemed. Again you weren’t really sure of it too much. Nevertheless you wanted to see the nurse again, and talk to her. Even though it may seem difficult, she probably would actually talk to you but not so much. She barely has a tangible voice in general, so she probably would barely talk since it may hurt her.
💊💉 One day, you saw her again, and you tried to go up to her. However, unlike last time, she was much more harsher towards you. Instead of approaching you kindly, she chased you around, striking you or attempting to. This behavior made you immensely scared to the point you trembled to the ground. Then it hit you. Your memories, fears, and visions of that night... that one night that landed you here...
💊💉 From what you remember vaguely, there was a hospital you use to work at with many clients. Those patients were very needy, and forced you to do things for them. Those tasks were to give them more medicine every hour, everyday until they snap. This place felt like a living hell for you, especially since you had no idea why they wanted to be injected. It got to the point they labeled you as “Dr. Injector” in order to tease you. One day you stopped giving them their precious medicine, and explained to them that they were running out of samples. However, they believed that you were lying considering the fact that this was the most rich hospital in your state. They went after you, chasing you down the halls, ripping at your clothes, until suddenly you flew through the exit! Unfortunately it wasn’t what you had intended it to be. It was a void like substance, staring back at you with those saddened, terrified eyes. You then arrived at a new location, brimmed with fear.
💊💉 From that moment you started to cry, desperately trying to get up from where you were. Unfortunately she picked you up before you could escape, however she didn’t hook you. Instead she took you to a certain location and put you down. She patted your head gently, trying to reassure you. The other members of your team were completing generators, and here you were right next to the killer. She then began to speak, “I’m sorry... I had too...” she seemingly whispered, “the entity... was after me...”
💊💉 What basically happened was that the killers criticized her when she would spare new survivors, and try to act friendly. Once this rumor spread around, the entity started to get fed up with her bullshit, and forced her to kill ever single survivor. If she was unable to do so, he would take something precious from her, and burn it in a fire. He would then use her as a puppet or decoration for a new killed. You satred at her in disbelief, and hugged her gently. This was terrible: having to be forced into killing others just because of your friendly nature? It was unimaginable. She stared at you, with what you can assume a melancholy glint, and hit you softly. You instantly fell on the ground, and were hooked. You closed your eyes and let the entity sacrifice you...
💊💉 Once you were back at the lobby, you cried silently away from everyone. You really wanted to see her again, but it would be immensely difficult. Luckily the match was finally over, and all the killers might’ve been talking with each other. You slowly went over to the killer area, sneaking past several security type things, and entered the area. You slowly tried to find the nurse, but you were met with other killers instead. The first one you recognized was Ghostface, but he was talking with someone that you saw as well. Another survivor here? Is this normal..? Next you saw Michael talking with another killer, and then you saw her. The nurse all by herself, sighing in relief. You quickly ran up to her, trying not to get caught, and wanted to jump out to hug her. However, someone already caught you...
💊💉 The entity caught you in the act, and tried to drag you away from her! You tried to remove yourself from him, but it was no use! You kept being pulled back into your lobby, and you were immensely weakened! You could barely even stand!
💊💉 Once you realized your circumstance, you held onto your knees and started to cry. You knew it was no use in seeing her. It was unfortunate how you could never seen her again. Maybe not even in another match..
💊💉 The next day you heard someone or something enter the lobby. They were immensely quiet, but you recongnized the noise. It was her.. next to you... alone...
💊💉 “Hello my dear...” she whispered, “I’m sorry for not coming towards you...” she apologized, and you hugged her in response. You wanted to make sure she felt okay, comfortable, and happy. You told her about a vision you had the other day, and she sighed. It was similar to her story as well.
💊💉 Basically she moved into a small town with her husband, smiling hand in hand. However he unfortunately died, and she was alone. With no other way to sustain herself, she had to work at the Crotus Penn Asylum, which was filled with patients that verbally, physically, and even mentally abused her. One day she just snapped and killed them all. Their blood was all over the walls, the beds, and simply everywhere you looked. She went insane.
💊💉 You held her hand gently and tried to reassure her. You told her that Andrew’s death wasn’t her fault, and that she would be alright. You both ended up cuddling against each other until the next day. You were finally happy, and had someone with you to keep you comfortable. To keep you as safe as possible.
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 years ago
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Birâthhur du Îdir Asta
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Part 12 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  This is turning out to be like a 60 part thing...  Link to Series Masterlist.
Thorin falls for a Dwarrowdame raised by Elves, and tries to make know his feelings, but accidentally offends her, which leads to another and another misunderstanding between the two.
Based off of @immawriteyouthings​ ‘Falling Stars’
MASTERLIST
TAGS:
@kumqu4t​
OC(s) Used: Estel
Word Count:  2,649
Warning(s):  
Translation(s): Birâthhur du Îdir Asta:  Get(ting) to Know You
Nê akhshum:  Don’t worry
~~~~
It was so strange, how Thorin and I got along so well.  At the beginning of this quest, one would never have believed that we could ever peacefully get along; but now that we were... courting or something like that--as strange as that sounded--it was like we were two pieces of a puzzle.  It was just that easy to adjust to our new relationship.
Those little glances we would throw at each other throughout the day; the little smiles or barely perceptible nods... Every little thing that we did to show the other we were thinking about them.  Each glance was a treasure I stowed deep within my heart to pull out when things seemed to be bleak.
"So, you say that this is the first time you've ever traveled from Lothlorien?"  Thorin asked quietly, an eyebrow raised in silent question.  I nodded and he chuckled softly.  "Well, Estel, you are quite a long way from home...  Do you get homesick often?"
My gaze wandered away from his sapphire blue eyes and bearded cheeks.  Eru, it had to be a sin to be so handsome.  Butterflies still rose in my stomach whenever I saw him.  "Sometimes," I whispered, leaning my head against Thorin's shoulder and nuzzling my face into the soft fur of his coat--Eru, I wanted one.  "It was worse at the start of our journey.  It's not so bad now.  Just some moments here and there."  
Thorin wrapped a strong arm around my shoulder and squeezed gently.  "I know well the feeling of homesickness.  I myself haven't been back to my home in around 140 years..."  He said in a voice that contained the barest hint of sadness.  
I let out an involuntary gasp of surprise, quickly raising my head to look up into his eyes.  "Eru, Thorin...  140 years?  And here I am, complaining about being away from home for a few months!"  I exclaimed, fingers absentmindedly tangling themselves into his long, dark brown hair.
Thorin just smiled sadly, looking down at me with a thoughtful look in his eyes.  "Nê akhshum, Amrâlimê.  We are returning to my home, so any thoughts of homesickness have long since disappeared."  His face gained a sudden hesitance, "perhaps one day you will--"
"Thorin!  Come over here and take a look at this map..."  Balin's voice cut Thorin off before he could finish his sentence, and Thorin quickly turned his head to look over at the white-haired Dwarrow.
"I'll be back, Karkith."  He murmured, slowly pulling away from me and standing up; his large, calloused hand reaching out to grip mine for a moment and squeeze it gently.  Then he turned and walked away, broad shoulders squared.
I was left alone to smile to myself over the nickname he had been quick to give me.  'Little raven' after my long black locks that he said looked just like the feathers of Erebor's ravens.  Any thoughts over Thorin's unfinished sentence were quickly brushed aside.
But before Thorin's warmth could fade from beside me, Kili was sliding in to take it--and for once, Fili wasn't with him.
"Can you teach me more Elvish?"  He asked, and I slowly turned to look at him, an unimpressed expression resting on my features.  
Kili bit his lip, and I watched as his brown eyes took on a forlorn expression.  "Please?  I promise I won't tell Uncle, and I'll teach you some more Khuzdul in exchange..."  He pleaded, and I let out a sigh, shaking my head.
"Fine."  I groaned, and Kili's smile reappeared in an instance.
"Good!  But on one condition; I get a kiss for every phrase I get right."  He said with a cheeky grin on his face while I gaped at him.
"What?"  I asked, not sure if I was hearing things correctly.  Hadn't he been one of the ones dropping hints for weeks?  And didn't he understand that I was in a.... relationship or something with Thorin?  And wasn’t he the married one?
Kili picked up on my hesitance and gave me a questioning look.  "I mean, it's not like you are Uncle are serious or anything..."  He chuckled, and I glowered at him.  
"Kili--” I began, but he raised a hand to cut me off.
"Can you prove to me that you're a taken woman?  What's one thing you can show me to prove that?"  He asked, and I fumbled for words, searching frantically for a single thing I could use to prove Thorin's affection for me.
I drew a blank, my shoulders sagging as I shook my head.  "No, I cannot."  I mumbled begrudgingly, and Kili clapped his hands together.
"That's what I thought.  Anyways, you don't have to kiss me properly if you don't want to.  Now, let's begin!"  He said, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Eru, I didn't want to be kissing anyone but Thorin.  Besides, Lorelei might murder me if she ever found out…
Kili looked at me expectantly, and I bit my bottom lip, thinking through all the possible phrases I could teach the Prince sitting before me.  "Hmmm... What about 'gen ú-velin'--I hate you."  I said, and Kili slowly sounded out the words silently before saying them aloud.
"Gen ú-velin."  He said proudly, smirking at me as he turned his cheek towards me.  "Go on," he teased, and I took a deep breath, leaning in to peck his cheek.
Leaning back, I fought against the blush rising in my cheeks as I caught sight of Kili's mischievous expression.  Valar, I didn't like this.
"My turn.  'Sasakhabi abnâmul'--you look handsome.  I believe Thorin would appreciate this compliment."  He said, and I repeated it back to him, receiving a pleased smile back when I pronounced it right.
But now it was my turn, and I lamented the ease with which I was learning words in Khuzdul now upon having mastered the basics.  That just meant I was now going to have to kiss Kili once more.  
"Let's try a harder one.  Mibo nin orch--go kiss an orc.  This one is the most common insult in the Elvish language."  I said, and Kili frowned as he struggled to say the words right.
"Mibo nin, orc."  He tried, and I shook my head; not bothering to hide my laughter.
"No, it's mibo nin orch.  Like 'arch'."  I laughed, and Kili frowned, soundlessly moving his lips before he tried again.
"Mibo nin orch."  He said, and I hide the grimace that crossed my face at the correct pronunciation.  
"Correct," I sighed, leaning forward to peck his cheek once more.
"What is going on here?  Kili, Estel, what in Mahal's name are you doing?!"  Thorin's outraged bellow scared me half to death and I jumped back from Kili as if I had been shocked.  
"Hey, Uncle!"  Kili said far too calmly for being in this situation.  "Estel was just teaching me some words, and we made a deal that she gave me a kiss for every phrase I got right."  He said without a trace of merriment.
Eru, I was going to murder him someday.  Forget the fact that he was a Prince and Thorin's sister-son, he was practically asking for it.
I cowered beneath Thorin's murderous glare--even thought I wasn't in the wrong here--watching as he radiated rage.  By the Valar, he looked as though he could tear down the forest with his bare hands.
He sent a stormy look towards me, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stared at Kili.  "And why would you ask such a thing of Estel...?  You are married to Lorelei!"  He growled, and Kili only shrugged.
"It's just harmless kissing, Uncle.  I mean, it's not like she's a taken woman or anything."  He protested, and Thorin let out a huff, his chest heaving as he took in a deep breath.  Kili's words had suddenly rendered his speechless and I was curious as to why.
"Kili..."  Thorin began, then trailed off, grumbling under his breath.  "Estel, inkhi.  Come."  He rumbled, reaching out to grab ahold of my arm and haul me to my feet.  "Igjijê, follow me."
Apprehensively, I followed after him, noting the lack of butterflies rising in my stomach at Thorin's touch.  The sight of his anger towards me and Kili had somehow killed them off.
Thorin led me towards the forest; between the tall trunks of the trees and over the dry, leaf-strewn ground until we reached the trunk of a fallen tree.  Here, Thorin paused, turning to look back at me.
Relief rushed through me as I saw that all traces of anger had faded from his features.  "I apologize for my outburst, Estel."  He murmured, motioning for me to take a seat on the log.  "Sa'gimthiya, Amrâlimê.  Sit."  He said, and I did so, watching as he paced before me; leaves and twigs crackling underneath his feet as he did so.
"I-I'm sorry, Thorin...  I didn't mean to do anything wrong..."  I stuttered, but Thorin was quick to shake his head.
"No, Amrâlimê.  You did nothing wrong; you didn't know any better."  He said, and I watched him in confusion.  Was there something I didn't know that I should have?  "It's my fault for not moving faster...  Mahal, the braid should have been put in that day on the riverbank..."  He said, almost as if he was talking to himself, while I watched.
"Braid? What about a braid?"  I asked, and Thorin paused in his pacing to look at me.
"In Dwarven culture, we place a special braid in the hair of the one we court so that everyone knows that they are taken.  You do not have one yet, and I suppose Kili was trying to hurry the process along.  Albeit in an inappropriate manner given the fact that he is married."  He explained, walking over to me and taking a seat beside me on the log.
I nodded in understanding, starting slightly as Thorin's hands suddenly grabbed a section of my hair.  Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Thorin delicately braided my hair; steel blue eyes gentle as they flickered repeatedly between the braid and my face.  "I'm not hurting you?"  He asked quietly, and I shook my head slightly.
"No, you're far gentler than I would have expected actually."  I said, laughing softly.  Thorin let out a chuckle, mouth curving upwards into a smile as he reached the end of the braid and fastened it with a small silver bead.  Snagging the braid in my hand, I carefully studied the beads twining through it, my eyes focusing on the one at the end and taking in the strange markings and runes decorating it.
Now that I thought about it, Kili had a braid similar to this in his hair.
Thorin silently watched me, waiting for my eventual question.  "Does the bead at the end mean something?"  I asked, and he nodded, resting a hand on the rough bark of the log we were seated on.
"Yes, Amrâlimê.  It bears the symbol of my kin and shows any Dwarf that you are mine."  He said, gazing at the bead with a fond expression.  "Now it is your turn to braid my hair."  
My eyes widened in surprise, and I was quick to shake my head.  "I don't know about that...  I don't know how to do that braid and I'm afraid I might mess it up."  I said worriedly, but Thorin only laughed.
"Karkith, it is just a simple braid; you cannot mess it up.  Besides, I do not care how it looks."  He said, gesturing for me to come closer.  "Do not worry yourself over it, Halwûna."  
I blushed at the familiar endearment--one meaning 'sweet one'--scooting closer on the log so I could take a section of his long hair in my hands to start braiding it.  My leg was pressed up against his thigh as I began to braid his hair--weaving in a handful of small beads he had tipped into my hand--and I could feel the heat radiating off of him.
Gently, I maneuvered the dark strands of hair, marveling as I always did over the softness of it.  Perhaps I could persuade him to tell me how he got it so.  Surely most Elves didn't have hair as soft and wondrous as Thorin's.  Not that I had much chance to find out, living in Lothlorien where everyone was so stiff and proper.
Sneaking a glance at Thorin's face, I was surprised to see his eyes closed in an expression of bliss.  All the tension had slowly fled from his shoulders, leaving him relaxed in a way I had never seen before.
Reluctantly, I finished the braid, securing it with the larger kin bead Thorin had given to me, and settled back, looking over my handiwork.
Slowly, as if finally realizing that I had finished, Thorin opened his eyes, exhaling deeply as he fingered the braid in his hair.  
"Is it good?"  I asked, my worry over whether or not the braid was good creeping into my voice.  
Thorin smiled, gazing into my eyes.  "It is perfect, Halwûna.  You did a good job.  Now, let us return to the others."  He said, rising to his feet and rolling his shoulders.  Glancing back at me, a sly look crept across his face.  "I must say, you have a magic touch.  Never have I felt such bliss before."  He said, causing the blood to rise into my cheeks.
Eru, he knew how to sweet talk a woman.
Deciding not to comment on his words, I stood up and fell into step beside him as he began to walk back towards the camp.  
Of course, the second we arrived back, Thorin was peeled reluctantly away from me to go discuss something with Gandalf; leaving me alone to find something productive to do.  A difficult task when all I wanted to do was be held in Thorin's arms so I could snuggle myself into his coat.
"Ah, so I see everything is official now."  Balin walked up to me, a wide smile on his face.  I blushed, knowing what he was talking about.  Fingering the braid, I smiled back, unable to help myself.  
There was such happiness welling within me, I felt as though nothing could possibly make me feel any different.  Was this what people talked about when they spoke of being in love?
"Yes, it is."  I said, and Balin nodded, glancing over my shoulder for a moment.  I followed his gaze to see Thorin striding towards us; having deserted Gandalf in exchange for me.
"Balin, are you bothering my One?"  He asked gruffly as he stopped beside me and wrapped an arm possessively around my waist; but I could detect the teasing tone underneath the gruffness.  
Balin chuckled, sticking his thumbs in his belt as he shook his head.  "No, my friend.  Only congratulating her on your courtship.  I'm very happy for you both."  He said, walking forward to clap his hand on Thorin's shoulder and look him in the eye.  "Bare your heart, my friend.  Always remember that.  Never be afraid to show it."
With that, he gave Thorin and I a smile and a bow before walking away to leave us alone.  Thorin watched him go, a contemplative look on his face.  I looked over at him, wondering what Balin had meant.  Obviously, it meant something to Thorin.
"What did he mean?"  I asked, and Thorin glanced over at me, the contemplative look still in his eyes.  
"One day you will understand, Amrâlimê.  I promise you that.  Now, how about we go sit by the fire..."
He gently led me towards the glowing embers of the fire, but I was lost in my thoughts.  Balin's cryptic words would haunt me for days until other events slowly pushed them out of my mind.  Somehow, they gave me a foreboding of days to come; of some important event far in the future.
I would just have to wait and see.
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waywardbeanie · 4 years ago
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A Man of Letters - Chapter Seven
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 6931 ish
Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always), angst, spicy (smut), unprotected (ish) sex
A/N: I want to thank everyone who has read so far, thank you for sticking with me!  All of the comments and reblogs mean so very much! THANK YOU!
Thank you to my beta’s @winchest09 and @whatareyousearchingfordean​ without them I would be sunk!
MASTERLIST A Man of Letters
If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**
Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters
Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist
This series is ongoing!
No Gif’s are mine
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                                   Dean “Tongue Magician” Winchester                                                     PO Box 323                                               Sioux Falls, SD 57101
Dear D,
You were right, I got both letters the same day. It was a really nice surprise. I hope that “Sam” likes the brownies. I’m sure they are stale, but I made enough for everyone, so please share them because I know they are for you. Sam literally eats one brownie when I make them. Work has picked up, and my schedule is full most days. I’m happy to be busy when you are gone, it makes the days go by faster, but my bed is too big and empty without you. I’ve slept on the couch a few times since you’ve been gone, I just leave the pillows on, and I can almost convince myself you are here.
I was thinking about the couch night, but now you have me thinking about the bed night, and damn, you are too far away to dwell on that for too long! Also, do not talk to me about me moaning your name in letters because I swear to God I will write you a note that you will have you locking yourself in Baby to read!
Things are pretty quiet here as usual. I went to the farmers market today and bought vegetables. I’m trying to figure out some new recipes to try. I know you said that you were up for anything, just no more butter beans because they taste like mud (which, for the record, they do not!), so we will see what I can do. I saw Mark from the garage there, and he told me to tell you “Hello” and that he is almost finished with the body of the 1971 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. He wondered when you would be back because he could use your help with the new paint job. I told him that the job you had was going to last longer than most but that I’m sure as soon as you got into town that you would help him.
D, I know we talked about the future before, but are you sure you want to walk away? I’m here no matter what, I’m not going anywhere. You need to be sure this is what you want to do for you. With that being said, I am selfish enough to say I want nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms every night and to wake up next to you each morning. I’m glad you wrote it in a letter because I can read it over and over. Sometimes, when you are gone, I just start questioning things and can be a bit insecure about all of it, but you knew that already.
I guess I should wrap this up, I’m sorry you guys are doing more research, but, as always it will pay off in the end. I’m not surprised you set up training for everyone, that is definitely your thing, and it gives you an excuse not to read those dusty books. You guys be safe and come back soon. I miss your face.
I Love You, Your Initial
3 Years Ago
They were a little over halfway back to the bunker, driving through Hastings, Nebraska, and Sam started to worry. Dean had not spoken 5 words this entire trip. He didn’t even want snacks when they stopped for gas. They have been driving for almost two hours, the radio on low, the only thing consistent is the tapping of his thumb on the top of the steering wheel, lost in his own thoughts.
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“Dean.” He broke the silence
“Huh?” pulling himself from his thoughts, glancing at Sam.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“What? Nothing,” raising his eyebrows, he shook his head briefly.
Flicking his eyes to the backseat, Sam confirmed the vamp was still out cold. “Ok, I’ll start. I know that you knew where these vamps were hiding out long before I told you. Instead of helping me, you continued to point me in the wrong direction.”
He rubbed his hand down his face with equal amounts of irritation and embarrassment. “Sammy, it’s not like that I-,”
Annoyed Sam cut him off, “Dude, it is exactly like that, but the funny part is I’m not even mad anymore.”
“Fine, you know I don’t want to talk about this, but you get one question and one answer and don’t get all chick flick about it either because that’s not happening.”
“Great,” Sam smirked, “What’s Y/N’s favorite color?”
Without missing a beat, Dean answered, “It’s a tie between navy blue and dark grey.”
Sam threw his head back with a laugh. Dean’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile, turning up the radio as “Ramblin’ Man” by The Allman Brothers blared through the speakers. Laying his foot on the gas pedal, a little heavier to get back to the bunker to get answers from the comatose vamp tied up in the back seat. 
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Dean and Sam had left Y/N’s house 2 days ago. The first 24 hours she didn’t go anywhere without her phone, that got old quickly. She began to feel like it was a leash; finally, she went about her day and left it plugged in on her nightstand. Today was Saturday, she didn’t have any clients this morning; instead, it was all the things to catch up from the week. Mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, grocery shopping, stripping the sheets, and doing laundry.
She put her hair in a messy bun, threw on her Neil Diamond t-shirt with denim shorts, grabbed her BlueTooth headphones, linking them to her tablet, and set it outside on the deck and connected it to her playlist. Greta Van Fleet’s “Highway Tune” burst into her ears as she yanked the pulley to start the lawnmower. She chuckled to herself as she began to mow the backyard. Dean had mentioned a few times that he wanted to do it, but that was not going to happen. She had put them both out enough, and besides, it was a good exercise for her. Finishing up in a little over an hour, she put away the lawn equipment, grabbed a bottle of water from the “beer fridge” in the garage, and jumped in the Jeep. She wanted to head to two destinations,  the grocery store and the gardening store to buy  more plants and flowers. Working in the yard kept her hands and mind busy, and right now, that is precisely what she needed.
As she was perusing the freezer section for her favorite Ben & Jerry’s flavor,  she ran into her friend Jennifer. They had met just a few weeks after Y/N moved to Lincoln and they had become fast friends. After a brief hug, they agreed to meet later on that evening for drinks on Y/N’s back deck to catch up. She stopped and bought some more daisies and headed back home, looking forward to spending the evening with her friend.
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After planting the flowers, she ran in the house to quickly shower and wash her hair, scrubbing off the dirt and grime of the day. Finishing up, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dried off when she noticed Dean’s black flannel hanging on the door hook. He’d accidentally left it behind the last time he was here. Walking over, she brushed her fingers lightly over the material and as she brought it closer to her nose, she could still smell his woodsy maleness clinging to the fabric. She rested her head against the door, thinking about how much she missed him already and realizing how ridiculous it sounded.
With a sigh, she left the bathroom walking down the hall to her bedroom, pausing she looked at her phone lying face down on the nightstand. She was torn; part of her wanted to see if Dean had called or texted, but an overwhelming part did not want to be disappointed when he didn’t. She made a deal with herself, she would get dressed and dry her hair, and THEN she would look at it. Y/N did silly bargaining things like this with herself all the time, almost like bargaining with the Gods to turn the odds in her favor. She pulled on a pair of grey shorts and a and white Garth Brooks shirt, chuckling to herself, thinking of when Dean accused her of having more band shirts than he did.
Sitting in front of her mirror with her flat paddle brush, she began drying her hair in pieces, after finishing she put on a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and colored lip balm. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she was pleased with the results, standing with a huff, Y/N went to check her phone. Picking it up, she expected nothing. However, she slowly lowered herself to the bed as her screen lit up, her eyes growing wider with every missed notification.
Dean 3 Missed calls
Dean: Hey, Babe, been crazy with you know what. Just wanted to hear your voice.
Dean 4 Missed calls
Sam 1 Missed call
Dean: Y/N. Is everything ok? Call me when you get this.
Dean 2 Missed calls Sam: Tink, would you PLEASE call Dean? I might kill him soon if you don’t. Jennifer 1 Missed Call Dean: ok, I’m trying to keep my shit together right now, I’m FUCKING WORRIED. I’m just telling you right now if I don’t hear back from you in 2 hours I’m driving back.
Just then, her phone lit up in her hand, Dean’s face popping up, the ring scaring her so bad she dropped the phone. She scrambled to pick it up, pushing the speaker button quickly. “Hello?”
“Y/N?” Dean’s voice boomed through the speaker.
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“Hey Dean, I’m so sorry-” she began.
Dean cut her off, “Are you good? Jesus Fuck, I was like a crazy person down here. You’re good, right? I mean you are answering the phone, so you’re alright. Right?” She could hear a slamming car door in the background.
“Dean!” she raised her voice to get his attention, “I’m fine I just left my phone plugged in all day, and I was busy.”
“Shit, right.” She could hear him running his hand over his scruff, “I’m sorry Babe, I know, I sound like a lunatic. We just haven’t been able to get anything out of this vamp, when you didn’t answer, my mind just started going to a dark place.”
“I promise, I’m really fine,” she soothed, “I mowed the lawn and went to the grocery and bought some flowers; just busy. I even saw my friend Jennifer today. She’s coming over tonight, and we are going to sit on the deck and have a couple beers.”
“Honestly, that sounds great Y/N/N, I just wanted to hear your voice and tell you to be careful. We don’t know who sent those vamps yet, and until we do, you just need to watch your back.”
She didn’t want to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t help it. There were only so many ways she could reassure him, she didn’t want Dean to worry about her, Y/N just living her life, maybe she was naïve. Hell, no one has worried about her since her parents’ death. It was a strange feeling.
“Dean,” she began, “What can I do to make you feel better?”
She could almost hear the sheepish shrug in his voice “I don’t know” pulling himself out of that quickly, his voice became stronger. “Could you just carry your damn phone with you?”
Dean heard the laughter through his phone, and he couldn’t help but smile, hearing her laugh warmed his insides. “Of course, I will! I do have a question for you, though.”
“Shoot.”
“Were you really going to drive back up here if I didn’t answer?” The silence on the phone went on for so long that she had to double-check to be sure they weren’t disconnected. “Dean?”
“Yeah,” came a gruff reply, “I was in the garage when I thought I would call you one more time before I left.”
“Oh Dean, I’m sorry.” Guilt niggled at her as she thought of him dropping his plans.
“Y/N, maybe I overreacted a little, but I’m so far away that, if shit went down, It would take me 2 ½ hours to get there.”
“I’m just living, Dean, but I will be careful, I swear. I don’t want you to worry about me. You have enough to worry about without adding me to it.”
Oh, Babe,” he chuckled, “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“So, I thought I would come back up on Thursday night if that’s ok.”
“More than,” she replied with a soft smile, “I miss you.”
“Same,” he replied gruffly, “see you Thursday, then.”
“Bye, Dean,” she whispered. She pushed the end button and flopped back on the bed, heart pounding in her chest.
She missed him, but the idea of him coming back had her stomach in knots. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to have sex with him when he came back. She could barely keep herself in check before he left. It had been a long time since she had been intimate with anyone, what if she forgot how? She had been fine just shoving her sexual frustrations to the bottom of her priority list, life got its hooks in her, she was more interested in getting her business off the ground, fixing up her house and making a life for herself. He was the first person in recent memory who made her look twice. Now he was coming to stay with her. This time she knew that the couch was not going to cut it.
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Dean’s POV
Bracing his forearms on the driver’s side window frame of Baby, he tossed the phone on her roof with a sigh. It’s taking all of his internal strength not to jump in the car right now and head back to Lincoln. In his mind, he knows that she is safe, but his chest still ached. This is why he didn’t involve himself in this type of bullshit. Sticking to the random hook up fitted his life. What the hell was he thinking, dragging her deeper into a life that she has no business being within a 1000 feet of? She is too sweet to get involved in his shit show of life. He was tossed into it the day his mother was roasted on the ceiling. Y/N deserves so much better than he could ever offer. If he had a brain cell left in his head, he would man up and text her right now to tell her to forget it, he wasn’t returning to Lincoln. He and Sam would track down whoever was after her and take care of it. Y/N could move on with her life and forget all about him and the nightmare life he leads. Exhaling loudly, Dean grabs his phone, shoving it in his pocket and pushing himself off the car, the adrenaline of his fear and anger  still pumping through his veins. He knows she deserves better than a text. When he drives up on Thursday, he will tell her that it’s best for her.
Eventually, the stabbing pain in his chest will go away and if it doesn’t,  maybe this is just what it would be like now that he really knows what he will be missing when he walks away.
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Jennifer and Y/N embrace at the door when she arrives promptly at 7:00. It was an evening of a few too many beers and laughs. Jennifer switched to Diet Coke after two. Although she was a little more than tipsy, she was careful to keep most of the secrets when Jennifer started to question her about the black muscle car parked at her house when Y/N was MIA for a few weeks, no one knew she was hiding a bruised and swollen face.
Travis had kept his mouth shut as promised. Sam and Dean stopped in to talk to him about the “guys” who followed Y/N home and assaulted her. He wanted his bar as far away from that controversy as possible.
They ended the evening with more hugs and promises to get together again soon, Y/N made her way to her bedroom, phone in hand, drunkenly stripping off clothes all the way down the hall. Climbing under the sheets, she started to plug in her phone but changed her mind.
Dean’s phone buzzed with a text message at 1:17 a.m, he was sitting in the library nursing his third whiskey of the night. Picking up his phone, he thumbed it open to see it was a text from Y/N. As he opened the message, his mouth slowly began to gape open. Staring back at him was a selfie. Y/N was laying down, her hair fanning around her on the pillow, a sweet smile playing on her lips. He could see the curve of her breasts, turning the phone back and forth he was sure he could have seen her nipple. She was totally naked in that massive bed without him. The simple text accompanying the picture is what truly did him in.
Babe: Wish you were here
“FUCK!” he groaned loudly, closing his eyes, throwing his head back
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Thursday came in a blink of an eye for both of them. Dean had texted Y/N to let him know he would be leaving around noon. It was 10:00 a.m. now, his anxiousness already kicked into high gear. Sam walked into the war room, a mug of coffee in his hand, still in his blue and black plaid pajama pants with a grey long sleeved T-Shirt. His hair pointing in every direction, bare feet smacking against the tile floor. He stopped abruptly when he spotted Dean pacing a path back and forth. He was already dressed in jeans and boots topped with a dark grey T-shirt underneath a burgundy and grey flannel. An empty coffee cup sitting on the map table along with his duffle bag. 
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“Dean?” he questioned.
“Yeah?” he responded, continuing to pace.
“What’s the deal? What are you doing?” He fully entered the room, placing his mug on the table studying Dean.
“I’m thinking! What are you doing? I just got shit on my mind,” he barked back, continuing to pace, stopping to look at his phone, before beginning his walk again.
“Aren’t you going to Y/N’s today?” Sam questioned, “I thought you would be happy. Instead, you’re stalking around here like an angry bear.”
Dean’s angry gaze snapped to Sam, confirming his characterization. “I’m coming back tonight.” Sam paused in the middle of sitting, standing back up, “Dude, WHAT?”
Running his hand roughly over his face, he sighed. “I got some space; after the other day, when I couldn’t reach her, it made me realize she doesn’t need to be dragged into this life. It’s too much.”
“And there it is” Sam threw his hands in the air, frustration written all over his face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean growled.
“Every.Fucking.Time,” he emphasized each word pointing his finger at the older Winchester. "Whenever you find a little bit of happiness, you start sabotaging yourself, it’s always something. This life sucks, you’re too busy, it’s the apocalypse, someone or something needs you more, you just shut down and tell yourself it’s not worth the trouble.”
Dean just stared at his brother as he continued to ramble.
“Just once Dean, just one time can you put yourself first?” he gestured toward him. “Yes, I know Y/N was a case and you are pissed off that the vamp won’t talk, you’re worried that your life is going to splash on her. She is stronger than you think, you think you need to pile all of this on your shoulders, you don’t. I have never seen you, my own brother, let his guard down around someone before.”
“She’s too good Sammy, she doesn’t deserve-”
“What?” Sam questioned, gathering momentum again “She doesn’t deserve to be happy? She doesn’t deserve to have someone care about her? You-” he pointed at him once more, “are both crazy about each other. I could see it on your faces every time I was in the same room with you both. You have earned the right to be happy.”
Dean crossed his arms contemplating Sam.
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“Just do me a favor, would you?” Go up there and just see her, stay the three days, like you planned, see what happens. Promise me you won’t go up there halfcocked trying to tell her, like you always do to everyone, that you know what’s best. Leave your bullshit baggage here and just go see her.”
“Whatever,” Dean grumbled, hiking his bag on his shoulder as he picked his keys off the table, striding towards the garage, “I think you need to mind your own damn business.”
“When has that ever happened before?” Sam called after him.
As Dean began to drive to Lincoln, Y/N was running around nerves and excitement, twisting her gut. She had showered, shaved everywhere, lotioned up, fixed her hair, letting it flow down her back instead of the ponytail or messy bun look and she had applied light makeup. Looking down at her bed, almost every article of clothing she owned was spread out. Y/N picked up all of her dresses and hung them back in the closet. If she wore a dress, he would know that she was trying too hard.
“This is ridiculous!” she thought to herself as she started shoving clothes back into drawers. She settled on a pair of denim cutoff shorts and a sleeveless black and white blouse that cut in at the shoulders and tied at the back of her neck, flowing to mid-hip. Picking up the remainder of clothes strewn about, she muscled them back in her closet, slamming the door. She checked herself out in the mirror, happy with the tan legs and arms on display. Walking out into the living room, she started to feel fidgety. She had serious thoughts about going to work in the garden, but she would have to shower all over again. After wandering around the house, she checked her phone at 1:00. She had two hours left. Flopping on the couch, she flipped on the television and began channel surfing, trying to zone out.
As Dean sped up the highway to Y/N’s house, the conversation with Sam this morning was a consistent loop in his head. Actually, it was more of a Sam tirade. Dean knew what was best, right? Nip it in the bud before one of them could get hurt. She really wasn’t what he needed in his life, he told himself. Unattached works best for him. An after bar closing fling to get rid of the itch, then back to living life. No expectations, no texts, no I’ll-call-you-laters. But if that is what he wanted, then why did it make him sad and angry all at once?
Twenty minutes outside of Lincoln, he stopped for gas, seriously considering calling her to say he couldn’t make it. Sure, she might be disappointed, but she would get over it, wouldn’t she? No, he chastised himself, he would do the right thing and tell her face to face. He owed her that, at the very least. Looking at his watch, he realized that he had made a good time between leaving the bunker early so Sam would quit bitching at him and no traffic or cops on the 2 lane highway. He would be at her house at 1:30. Jumping back in Baby, he cranked the ignition “The Real Love” by Bob Seger blared through the speakers, it was a slow one, he reached down to flip the channel but paused but as the lyrics began to speak to him.
I think I’ve found The Real Love Genuine and true I think it’s really come my way today Babe I think it’s really you
I remember moments looking in your eyes Could have sworn I saw the spark of love babe Flickering inside
I’ve been around this track And the only thing I lack Is The Real Love
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Placing his hand back on the wheel, his knuckles turned white as he squeezed, the pressure in his chest overwhelming him as he blinked back tears. His mind and heart screaming, “Don’t do this!!” Angrily, he threw Baby in drive, grinding his teeth together and snapping his jaw. He jammed his foot on the gas, leaving tire treads next to the pumps. The Impala fishtailing as he exited to the street heading towards Y/N house. The pain crashing through him as the verses washed over him.
Every time I see you, every time we touch I can feel the way you feel for me Babe And it means so much
And every time you look at me It’s just the way it all should be In The Real Love
Oh darlin’ darlin’ darlin’ Stay with me stay I long to see you in the morning sun Everyday Everyday
So until that moment When I take your hand I’m gonna try to do my very best Babe To prove that I’m your man
I’m gonna do my very best I’m not gonna rest Until we’ve got The Real Love
He was in agony, convincing himself it was what he deserved thinking about what he was about to do.
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Hearing the deep rumble of Baby, Y/N sat up on the couch, flinging the remote on the coffee table. Her heart began thundering in her chest as she looked at the clock 1:28 p.m. “It’s too early, it can’t be him. He said 3:00” she thought. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her, almost unwilling, afraid to be disappointed that it was another car, but she knew. She would recognize the sound of his car anywhere. The screen door opened with a squeak as she stepped on the porch as Dean drove up the driveway. She shoved her hands in her front pockets to appear calm, but she could not wipe the huge grin off her face nor the heat burning her cheeks.
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Dean turned off Baby and sat there for a moment, squeezing the steering wheel, flexing his jaw as he tried to get his bearings together. He knew what had to be done, he couldn’t draw it out. “Just cut to the chase, short and sweet. Get it over and done  with and let her live in peace,” he told himself, until he glanced out the window and saw her on the porch.
The ice that he tried to form around his heart cracked wide as he looked at her beautiful, smiling face. Never in his life could he recall someone so thrilled to see him. She was pure sunshine that spread light through him as he looked at her. Pulling the metal handle, he got out of the car, slamming the heavy door behind him. Her hands were in her pockets, but she was so happy she was almost vibrating. As he walked towards her, all he could hear was Sam’s voice yelling in his head, “leave your bullshit baggage here! You have earned the right to be happy!”
Each step that he took melted the ice a little more, stopping in the grass, he matched her smile and opened his arms. She was off the porch running to him. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist as he locked her in his embrace. She buried her face in his neck as he nuzzled her hair, breathing her in.
“You know,” she whispered, smiling into his neck, “when I thought about today, I always imagined I would have been much cooler.”
Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against her temple, “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” The truth is, had she been calm, cool, and collected, Dean would not have questioned his stupidity until he was headed back to the bunker. By that time, it would have been too late, and he would have had to live with his decision no matter what the ache in his chest told him.
Setting her on her feet, bending, he pressed a firm kiss on her lips, lingering as the last bits of ice melted around his heart. He wanted to tell her what he had driven up here to do; he just couldn’t yet. What if he scared her? What if she stopped looking at him with unconditional acceptance? After everything he had shared with her, the killings, the monsters, and the Mark of Cain, she rolled with it all as if he was telling her how he changed the oil in Baby. She was interested and asked questions but never judged him. Telling her most of his secrets on the couch was never what he meant to do, but she pulled it out without even trying. What if telling her he was going to look at him differently? He couldn’t handle that, his chest hurt to even think that. What if it broke what has been so carefully built. What if it broke her? He couldn’t do that. The thought that he was actually going to come up here and tell her it was over made him feel lightheaded.
Pulling back, she took his hand in hers with a smile. “I hope you’re hungry tonight. I made steak, twice baked potato, corn on the cob and...” she drawled, wiggling her eyebrows, “pecan pie.”
“Wow,” he chuckled “you didn’t have to do all of that.”
She lifted one shoulder, slightly embarrassed, “I wanted to.”
Squeezing her hand, he murmured, “thank you.”
Smiling bright at him, she opened the screen door, Y/N entering and pulling Dean with her. The house smelled like pie. He didn’t realize how much he missed being with her in her space until he walked in the door. The smell, the feeling of hominess solidified his decision to listen to Sam’s advice. Maybe his little brother knew something, after all.
Dean grabbed two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator, walking out on the back deck. Just being close to her, he could feel a weight lifting off him as he comfortably settled back into their little routine. He would always twist off the bottle top for her and hand her the beer. Even if she brought the beers out, she gave them both to him. When both bottles were open, they would clink the bottlenecks together before their first drink. It was the little things like this that made him ridiculously happy.
Sitting on the deck, they shared different things from the week, there were no awkward moments or pause in the conversation. It just flowed as it did on the couch. Dean tried to keep it light, telling funny stories about Sam as Y/N’s laughter rang out, filling him with a warmth he never knew he needed., She would reach out and touch him, brushing her fingers against his knee or grasping his arm when she was making a point. He looked forward to each touch, desire shuttering through him every time. As the afternoon slid into the evening, Dean would graze her upper arm with a smile, just to see her shiver. He felt powerful that it was his touch doing that to her.
Time flew by as the cold beers went down smoothly. Soon it was time to light the grill and cook up the steaks as she put together the side dishes. They decided to eat at the pub table on the deck, lighting the lanterns as the sun began to set and soft music played through the hidden speakers. Y/N watched Dean eat dinner as she moved the food around her plate. She watched him as they talked through dinner, either he wasn’t nervous or could chew through anything. She was hungry but only took a few bites here and there. The later it got, she began to get keyed up. She felt like she knew how the evening would end; however, her insecurities made her start to question everything. After dinner, they loaded the dishwasher and made coffee for both of them. It was very domestic, like all the pieces were snapping into place. Dean sat down his mug as the crisp sound of an acoustic guitar wafted through the sound system. “Give Me One Reason” by Tracy Chapman. The notes carried into the darkness as the deck was illuminated by the hanging lanterns.
Reaching out his hand he beckoned to Y/N, “dance with me.”
With a shy smile, she accepted his hand as he led her to the middle of the deck and took her in his arms. Her heart began to double-time in her chest as she looked into Dean’s eyes and saw the heat reflected back down on her. He pulled her close as they moved through the song and she could not help but to be struck by the lyrics.
Give me one reason to stay here And I'll turn right back around Give me one reason to stay here And I'll turn right back around Said I don't want leave you lonely You got to make me change my mind
Ducking his head to brush his lips to hers, the sizzle that has built between them all night, ignites. He wants this woman more than he has ever wanted anyone in his life. In a rush of uncontrollable desire, Dean cups Y/N’s face and pulls her to him, crashing his lips greedily to hers. The first touch of his mouth on hers and she threw her arms around him, pressing her body against his. The intense desire exploded between them; the compelling need to claim her, lick her, have her, drove him to the brink of insanity. He opened her lips with his, his tongue sliding into her mouth, bringing out a throaty moan that almost pushed him over the edge. He glided his hand down her back, cupping one of her round cheeks with his palm as he roughly pulled her against his erection; she gasped with pleasure as she began to grind herself onto him, her own arousal dictating her actions.
Picking her up, she wrapped her legs around him as he walked them into the house, down the hall into the bedroom, their mouths only moving apart to gasp for air before devouring each other once more. The dance of their tongues did nothing to quench her thirst for him since they had initially started, and she found herself rubbing against him in an attempt to ease her aching core. Setting her down on her feet in front of the bed, she looked up to see Dean’s eyes had changed to a dark smoldering green; the lust reflected back to her, making her tremble with yearning.
“I need you so much,” he rasped.
“God, me too,” she whimpered.
A smile spread across his face as he hooked his index finger along the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down her tan legs to her ankles. On his knees in front of her, he placed a soft kiss on her belly button, his tongue flicking her hoop piercing.
“So fucking hot,” he murmurs as her skin erupts in goosebumps, a shiver of excitement moving up her spine as she runs her hands through his soft brown hair.
Gently pushing her back on the bed, he pulled her to the edge, his mouth mere inches from her slick heat. Moving his face slightly, he brushed the inside of her thigh with his scruff, pulling a moan from her lips. She could feel his warm breath against her clit and began to squirm.
“Please Dean,” she begged. He lay his muscled forearm across her hips, pinning her to the bed.
“Shh,” he whispered as his eyes met hers, his intense look scorching her skin. “I want to look at you, I’ve done nothing but think about you like this for weeks, just want to enjoy the view for a moment.”
She let her head fall back on the mattress, laying her arm across her closed eyes, her body buzzing as it pleaded for relief. Every second that ticked by, the intensity coiled in her belly, convincing her that she will burst into flames any second. She jerked as she felt his flattened tongue lick upwards along her damp slit, teasing her. His lips stopped at her clit, humming in satisfaction.
“Jesus, Dean,” she moaned, grasping the sheets on either side of her, “I can’t do this, it’s too much,” she cried with frustration.
Chucking, he licked her again before swirling his tongue around her sweet spot. A sound ripped from her throat that was a mix between a whine and a curse. “That’s it, Y/N,” he growls against herm “let go, I want to feel you cum.”
“No, I want to feel you inside me.” Her arms stretched to reach him, but he leaned back, just out of reach.
“You will,” he promises “but I need this first.” His tongue delved into her wet sweetness as he buried two fingers inside her, coaxing her to climax. She felt the white-hot heat building inside her as he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking one last time, hurdling her over the edge while crying out his name. Dean was relentless, lapping up everything Y/N had given him before he glanced up at her writhing form, his chin glistening in the dim light. It was a sight that made Y/N swallow hard, the man between her legs had given her an orgasm in less than a few minutes so her mind was reeling with else he had in store for her.
“I need you, Dean.” Those four words that bled from her lips sent Dean into a frenzy.
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In haste, he removed his boots, socks, jeans, and boxers before he climbed up the mattress, pulling Y/N along with him. Situated in the middle of the bed, he settled between her legs, his hard length nudging at her. Resting his forearms on either side of her head, he brushed his lips over hers as she moved her hands to entwine her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. Her legs then wrapped around  his waist, urging him to enter her but he held back, his body taut with the effort.
“Protection?” he asks softly. “IUD,” she answered breathlessly, desperate for him to fill her. “Oh god.””
“It’s Dean” he husked playfully, his voice deep and gruff.  
Kissing down her neck; cupping her breast in his hand, he rolled her taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, a hiss of pleasure rushing from her lips as he took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the bud before nipping it gently with his teeth. He moved to the other breast giving it equal treatment. Steadily he slowly made his way back up her body, peppering her skin with kisses as he reached her mouth, claiming her lips again in a searing kiss as he lined himself up. He slowly pushes his impressive shaft inside of her as her body stretches around his girth, tightly squeezing and slowly accommodating him.
“Y/N,” he breathes between clenched teeth, “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long, you feel so damn good.”
She murmured her approval as her hands wrapped around him, her fingers digging into his rippling back muscles with each thrust. She had fantasized about this so often, but the reality eclipses anything her imagination had come up with. His mouth moved down her exposed neck as her hands blindly explored his body. Their dual moans mingled in the bedroom as their sweat-slicked bodies met. She gripped his shoulders as they both barreled towards release.
“Babe, I’m so close,” he grits out, his rhythm stuttering. She plants her feet on the bed, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Dean!” she cries as another orgasm rips through her body. She comes undone, her insides clench and twist around him as she digs her fingers into his back as he feels her flutter around him. Groaning her name, he buries himself deep inside her, allowing euphoria to wash over him as he coated the inside of her walls.
Breathless, he nearly collapsed on top of her but managed to hold himself up on shaky arms as she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair with a smile. He leaned down to place a sweet kiss on her mouth before laying on his back next to her as they both tried to catch their breath. Turning his head, he saw her blissed-out face staring back at him with a sleepy smile playing on her lips. He gathered her still shaking body to him, wrapping his arms around her as she rested her head on his hard chest with a satisfied sigh. She snuggled into him as he reached down to pull the sheet over them both falling into an exhausted sleep. He was so glad he didn’t listen to his own thoughts and allowed himself to enjoy being with her. The woman that had turned his life upside down.
Chapter 8
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