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so-long-soldier-writes · 10 months ago

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The Agreement

kai parker x reader | requested by @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie back when i asked for fluffy prompts bc i was having a hard month

summary: helping kai adjust to a normal life has its ups and downs, but he, of course, always wins in the end.

tags: domesticity, adjusting to normal life, lots of comfort & cuddling, gemini coven lore, minor indirect mention of abortion where kai's being a dick, but he's mostly soft in this fic, bartender!kai, mentions of alcohol, minor bar fight, minor mention of assault, accidental murder, protective!kai, protective!damon, bonnie is kinda mean in this one, damon secretly wants to be friends with kai, angst & fluff ish

word count: ~9.9k

a/n: this is so cheesy and somewhat choppy but bare with me 😅

You, Damon, and Bonnie have made a deal. Neither will kill Kai, as long as you can help the witch settle into a new life in Mystic Falls. Those are the terms made, and boy, are they hard to get.

“You can’t fix him, Y/N. He’s beyond fucked up,” Bonnie scoffs, “and I don’t want to be partly responsible if I were to make some crazy deal with you that goes wrong.”

“I just want him to try and have a normal life, Bon. He spent twenty years in an abusive household and another twenty years in isolation. He has no idea what normalcy is.”

“By the sound of that, he’s too far gone for you to even try.”

“Just give me a chance to work with him!”

“I don’t even like you being with him! He’s going to hurt you, and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I haven’t given him a reason to hurt me, Bon.”

“He doesn’t need a reason. He just does things.”

“Well, in that case, I’ve given him a reason not to hurt me. I’m the only one willing to try and help him adjust.”

“Y/N-”

“I see the point you’re making, Y/N,” Damon interrupts his best friend, “but are you really going to put all this work in for him? Seriously?”

“Yes! I don’t get why you guys are so against this. I’m helping you out; I’m giving you one less person to worry about that could raise hell in this town.”

“He already has-”

“Bonnie, please.”

“It would be easier to just kill him.”

“Bonnie!”

“Look at him! He’s plotting right now! No one is quiet for that long unless they’re plotting something.”

You sigh and turn to follow her gaze. Kai is sitting on a barstool, in the room of the boarding house that’s surrounded by windows, watching snow fall.

“He’s just observing!”

“Sure he is.”

“And he’s probably trying to tune out this conversation, too. I’d be, if people were talking about me, and two of them wanted to kill me.”

Bonnie gives you a hard glare.

“Four months,” Damon says suddenly.

“What?”

“You have four months to get him settled.”

“Don’t give me a deadline. It took you longer than four months to stop killing people when you got back to town. And the only reason you did is because Elena finally fell for you. But then every time she dumps you, you kill people again.”

“Thanks for the summary.”

“My point is, I might need longer than four months. I can start with the killing stuff first, teach him he can’t do that, but getting him on his feet might be some work.”

“Easy. Pull the chair out, he’ll figure it out.”

“Damon-”

“I know what you meant. Fine. Six months max. If he’s still (A) killing people, (B) in my house every time I come down for a cup of coffee, or (C) a complete and utter basket-case, by that time, then he’s,” Damon makes the gesture of a throat being slit, “done. No more killing, no more kidnapping, no more terrorizing. Got it?”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes at his insistent face. “Got it.”

“In return, I, nor Bonnie, will kill him unless you take longer or he goes off the rails.”

“You guys do you know you can’t kill him, right? If he dies, so does Jo, so does Liv. Alaric will never speak to you ever again.”

Damon hesitates, but Bonnie already seemed to have an answer to that prepared. “Don’t think I won’t toss him back into 1994, or make a new prison world entirely, if I need to.”

“Bonnie-”

“But if you think you have him under control, you don’t need to worry about that now, do you?”

You sigh, then look over to Kai. He’s still turned towards the window, but you don’t doubt he’s listening. “No, I don’t.” You straighten your posture. “And you won’t need to worry about him, either.”

“Alright, Ms. Confident,” Damon mocks, “guess we have a deal. You have six months to get that weasel somehow adjusted to real life, and we won’t kill him, or throw him in a prison world.”

“Nor will you antagonize him for fun, Damon, which I know you like to do.”

“I do not-”

“Mason Lockwood. John Gilbert. T-”

“Alright! Fine. Bonnie and I will stay out of your way while you work on your little project.”

“I’m going to prove to you he can be good. Just mind your own business while I do it.”

“Fine.”

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

Two minutes later, you gather Kai and hurry out the door.

“Did you hear all that?”

“Yeah. I’m on thin fucking ice.”

“Mhm.” You then grab his arm before he can slip on real ice right outside the boarding house.

The pair gave you a rather strict set of rules to follow, and Kai’s surprised you didn’t give up on him just hearing the terms. He makes sure to thank you on your way to the Grill, where you’re headed for coffee. He hopes he sounds genuine, but still tends to struggle with that stuff sometimes. You, being the loving person you are, give him a smile and a kiss to the cheek in return. You then walk hand-in-hand to the restaurant, where you plan to carefully explain a few places you’ll help him start.

Two coffees and a lava cake later, you catch his attention.

“So, this is a bad example.”

“What do you mean?” He looks up at you, chocolate syrup dripping from the side of his lip.

You reach out to wipe it off, then lick it off your own finger. Kai then wipes off the rest with his napkin, the little that you missed. He smiles at your lack of hesitancy to reach out to him.

“It’s like, five o’clock-ish, and our dinner shouldn’t be dessert-”

“This is your influence. I fed myself properly when I was locked up.”

“Oh really?” You ask with a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah, actually, I did. And in fact, the first time I met you, you were in this very same seat, with Caroline, eating a lava cake.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine.”

He smirks at his win.

“So you cook. You need somewhere to do it.”

“Like?”

“An apartment, maybe?”

“I can just move in with you.”

You bite your lip. You love Kai, but you’ve only been dating for three months. Of course, he’s spent days and slept over before, but it might be too early for the ‘moving in together’ stage. “You could,” you start, “or we could find you an apartment close-by. So you can get a little bit of autonomy, figure things out for yourself. Have a place to get away, if you need.”

“I don’t think I’d need to get away from you,” he chuckles.

“I certainly hope you won’t, but, I don’t know, I think it’ll be good for you to have your own place. Just for a little while.”

“Do you not want to live with me?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying! I’d love to, but it might be just a little too early for that. And I really think you’d benefit from having your own space. I’ll help pay rent for the first few months. Well, unless you want to go to college? Live in a dorm?”

“At Whitmore?”

“Anywhere.”

“But you live here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not in college.”

“No.” You’re not sure where he’s taking this.

“I don’t want to be away from you. I don’t even want to live away from you.”

“You live away from me now.”

“That’s different. At least in the boarding house, there’s people.”

“People who have no qualms about killing you, Kai. What’s this actually about?”

“I don’t want to be alone!” He finally admits. A few people look over from the shout, but you wave them off. “I was alone for eighteen years, I can’t take it anymore!”

“Kai, there are other people in apartments, too.”

“But not in the same room! They’re all in locked doors. I’ve seen plenty of shows. Besides, what if the time away makes you not want to be with me anymore?”

“What?!” You ask, genuinely surprised.

“You’re the only person that cares about me. What if space apart makes you not?”

“Baby, that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to stop loving you just because you move into an apartment.” You lower your voice, recognizing your conversation has an audience of three old men. “We’re apart now,” you repeat, “and I still love you. A couple minutes apart, even less time than our distance now, isn’t going to change that.”

“I still don’t want to be alone, Y/N.”

“Tell you what… we’ll find you one in the same building that I’m in, maybe even the same floor. We’ll be two minutes apart at most. You can come find me at any time; I’ll give you a key.” You reach out to take his hand. “When we’re dating for longer, we can talk about moving in together, but for now, I really want you to try living on your own. Please? We have to prove to Damon and Bon that you can, or you know what they’ll do. Do it for me, so I can keep you safe, okay?”

Kai bites his lip. “Okay. Same floor.”

“I think the woman across the hall is moving out anyway.”

He nods.

“Besides, I don’t want you too far from me, either.” You wink. “Who else is going to cook for me?”

He smiles at your first comment, but at the second, pushes your hand playfully. “See, you admit I can cook.”

“Never said you couldn’t!” You pause. “So that’s a definite ‘no’ on the college thing?”

He nods. “First of all, you wouldn’t be there. Second, I don’t care for the college experience that’s so hyped up in movies. Third, I’ve read thousands of books while being locked up. If I wanted to study one thing really intently, I either already have, or I would’ve.”

“Okay then.” Obviously, his mind is made up. “Sounds good.”

You both eat a few more bites of the cake, then he crinkles his nose. “I know you’re gonna say it sooner or later, so I might as well ask now… are you gonna make me get a job?”

The cynical look on his face makes you want to laugh, but you manage to hold it in. “Yep.”

“Crap.”

“It doesn’t have to be something crazy. Hell, you could work here. Be a bartender or something.”

“Do I have to work with people?”

“I thought you just said you want to be around people?”

“Not stupid people, though. Y’know, like the what-you-call-Karen types that would make me want to wring their neck.”

You chuckle. “Baby, that’s a type of person difficult to avoid. Any job is gonna have its fair share of annoying people. Unless you deliver mail, or something.”

“What’s that require?”

“Valid driver’s license.”

“I have one of those.”

“Valid?”

“Made it myself, but it got me through airport security.”

You sigh. “Can you drive?”

“Yes. Taught myself.”

“Would you pass a test?”

“I don’t know. But I drove BonBon from Mystic Falls to Portland without killing her.”

“Lower your voice when you say stuff like that!” You warn again, waving off a man.

Kai seems to ignore you. “Though half of that trip, we did fly…”

“You flew a plane?”

“Had eighteen years to learn!”

“Okay. Let’s get off this topic. You spend so much time in this grill, it might be a good place to start. As long as you show up, do your best, and don’t,” you lower your own voice, “spike people’s drinks for fun-”

“I would never!” He fakes offense.

“-I think you’d be good.”

The boy takes a sip of his coffee. “Fine. Just for you, I’ll try it.”

“Great! I’ll talk to Matt.”

“Ugh.”

“And don’t mention that you killed the manager, because they never found out who did that.”

“Noted.”

“And he’s besties with the Sheriff.”

“Great. You don’t want me to work here for an extra set of eyes on me, do you?”

“No, ‘course not. You’re my sole responsibility, I don’t want Matt involved at all. I just think you’d be a good bartender.”

“Okay.”

“And you like it here, so you might be more comfortable here.”

“What are the odds you could work here, too?”

“I have a job.”

“You could quit it and work here.”

“Kai…”

“Fine. Talk to Matt.”

“Okay.” You stand up to find the other boy. “Stay here.” You kiss his head as you pass him, then head to the bar.

Kai stares into his coffee while you wait by the bar. He likes the Grill, but doesn’t know about working in it. The customers around him are often annoying, and he doubts his ability to remain patient with them. Still, you made a deal to keep him safe, and if his two little prison world friends are going to uphold their end, the two of you have to keep yours. He sighs, then turns to find you. You’ve caught hold of Matt, but as you seem to explain the situation, he rolls his eyes. Kai bites his lip. He has to make this work, for you, even if he doubts his own ability to fit into the world.

As you turn to look at him, he looks away abruptly. A minute later, you return to your seat.

“How’d it go?”

“He’s gonna give you a chance… on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“If I’ll work here, too.”

The boy’s eyes light up. “Really? I thought you said I should do it myself.”

“Well then scratch that. It’ll be more fun together anyway.”

Kai smiles before growing serious again. “So apartment, job… anything else to cover?”

You’re quiet for a moment. There’s a lot more to cover, but you’ve just tackled two of the biggest factors when it comes to normalcy, and you don’t want to overload the poor boy. So instead of bringing anything else up, you shrug. “We can tackle it later. For now, let’s finish this cake.”

Grateful, he nods. He knows, not only from Bonnie and Damon, that there’s a lot more expected of him than just housing and working. He’s lucky he has someone that understands that. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you reply back.

*****

For the next couple nights, Kai stays with you until you can secure a room for him in your apartment complex. Turns out Ms. Mary White had moved out just recently - wanted to find a complex with fewer stairs - and Kai would be able to move in by the end of the week.

Of course, that process doesn’t come without its own issues. A key piece of information required for renting an apartment is proof of one’s identity. When Kai is asked to present his, he stares blankly at your landlord.

“Uh, I think my father has it in the attic of my childhood home.”

“Well can you call him?”

“He probably burned it,” Kai mutters.

Your landlord’s eyes quickly widen at the same time yours do. Your boyfriend’s blunt honesty is quite fatal for the situation; your landlord does not need to know about his abusive childhood, nor the crimes Kai had committed over twenty years ago. One Google search could quite possibly open a whole can of worms you aren’t ready to contain.

In the following two seconds after that, you dial Caroline’s number.

Luckily, the vampire comes to your aid. She compels the man into forgetting both the conversation, and his need for any proof of identity. She seals his spot in the apartment, and simultaneously, in his new life.

As Caroline then helps the two of you settle in, Kai catches her attention.

“Why did you help me?”

The blonde faces him. “Well… for one, Y/N cares about you. If she sees good in you, and the ability to change, to be better, then I trust her. Two, I do owe you for helping my mom. She’s healing, slowly, ever since you siphoned the vampire’s blood out of her system, and I never fully thanked you for that. And third… I know someone like you. Someone who came to Mystic Falls, and wrecked absolute havoc, but for some reason, he had a soft spot for me. I was used in all of the plans they would make to distract or ‘neutralize’ him, and with time, it worked. He got better. He’s an ally now. A friend, even.”

“So Y/N is like you, and he’s kinda like me. You see that happening? You can see me getting better?”

“Klaus did.”

Kai swallows. It means a lot to hear someone other than Y/N have faith in him. “Thank you.”

“All I’m saying is prove them wrong. Damon’s an ass sometimes. And remember, he was the villain too, a while back.”

“I heard some stories from them back in the prison world.”

“Well they probably didn’t even cover half the stuff he did. Trust me, Damon has no room to judge.”

Kai nods.

“Text me if you guys need help with anything else. Kai, good luck. Treat Y/N well.” With a smile, she’s gone.

“Klaus,” Kai repeats.

“You’re not half as bad as Klaus,” you inform him, “killing-wise, I mean. That thing is a thousand years old and has killed probably five times more people than his age.”

“She said he got better.”

“He did. Still kills, obviously, but he is a friend to us now.”

He nods again, processing the information without replying.

You spend the rest of the evening settling him in with the little stuff he has. Most of his belongings are clothes, and whatever else is either from 1994 or stolen somewhere along the way. You have some extra furniture in your apartment, and earlier that day, bought him a comforter. It’s enough to live, and he seems fine with it. Besides, you both know he’ll be in your apartment most of the time, anyway.

*****

A couple days after that, you start your new jobs at The Grill. You’re only part time, considering you’re already a dedicated employee elsewhere, and Matt’s fine with that as long as you “watch him” at least most of the time. The boy is clearly not excited about the reformed serial killer joining his work team, but at the same time, Matt’s not one to turn down anyone looking for a fresh start.

At first, he keeps Kai in the back, away from people. A smart move while he still adjusts. He’s mostly tasked with filling drink orders and cleaning up, and only after he’s been working in the restaurant environment for a week is he actually allowed to hand people their orders. So far, he’s incident-free, but you can tell Matt is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His heart almost stops the day he sees Damon enter on a day he has Kai serving drinks.

Matt rushes to the back, trying to find you to take over before the vampire can saunter over to the bar.

“Bourbon. Neat.” Damon says to no one in particular.

Kai swallows hard at the sound of the man’s voice, but then stands up to pour him the drink. As he passes the glass to him, Damon’s attention turns from the distant game of billiards to the unidentified bartender.

“Oh.” He blinks in surprise. “It’s you.”

“Yep, I am working here now.” Kai enunciates every word, still in disbelief that he does.

“Gotta say I’m shocked. Had any urges to kill anyone yet?”

“No, it’s been mostly tame. There was one lady the other day who was so drunk, she fell out of her chair, but that was more amusing than anything else.”

Damon snorts. Part of him wishes he could have witnessed that, but he’ll be damned if he admits that to Kai. “And her inconsiderate ways didn’t have you tempted to toss a glass at her head? Maybe you are improving.”

Kai bites his tongue. He knows Damon’s just trying to get under his skin, and the bar is too busy for him to react. Besides, one wrong move and the vampire will call off their deal.

Luckily, a heartbeat later, you pop around the corner from the kitchen.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Your little pet served a drink.” He takes a sip. “Ten points to Slytherin for getting my order correct.”

“Be nice, Damon. I’ve never seen you attempt to get a job.”

“Why would I need a job? I’m a vampire, if you haven’t forgotten. I don’t need money, and I don’t need to buy food-”

“Because you just eat people? Right. And you do buy food, let me remind you, and drinks, on a daily basis, which requires money. But since your nephew - whom you killed - was rich, you don’t need to work for anything. So no, you don’t need a job, but if you were born into a less rich family, you’d certainly need to, to support your hobbies.”

“Touché.”

You shrug. “I’m just sayin’.”

Damon glares at you, sips the rest down in one gulp, then spins the glass back to Kai. “Refill.”

Knowing you’ve won, you give your boyfriend a kiss to the cheek as he pours another glass. You’re halfway back to the kitchen when Damon clears his throat,

“I could report you for PDA.”

“Try me.”

He doesn’t.

That night, you praise your boyfriend for keeping his cool under the unexpected presence of Damon. Truth be told, you hadn’t even considered the man’s frequency at the restaurant when you spoke out for Kai to work there; you only thought about where he’d be most comfortable. Kai admitted he started pushing buttons, but your interference diffused the situation immediately. You give him a kiss, then snuggle into his chest, legs over his as you sit in his lap. Kai grabs you before you can get too comfortable, turning your cuddling into a make-out session. Unlike his shift at the bar earlier, things escalate pretty quickly.

*****

Weeks pass of coaxing Kai into a normal life. He’s doing well despite the cards handed to him, and you’re sure to tell him how proud you are each night. There have been a few instances where he’s yelled at customers who’ve yelled at him, and then he had to muster up an apology to them. On two occasions, you’ve traded places with him, seeing either Damon or a crowd of college kids approaching the bar. But though he’s had a few mistakes, he’s received compliments, too.

One woman, a regular, and very picky about her cocktails, told him she’s impressed with his ability, especially given his age, and that he makes some of the best drinks she’s had. She always leaves a good tip, and has made sure to tell the manager what she said to him.

Kai only gave a dimpled smile and a polite, “thank you,” and decided not to tell her he’s actually in his forties, and had nothing better to do for eighteen years than craft cocktails.

“See,” you then said to him, “I knew you’d be a good bartender. I didn’t even know you could make cocktails.”

“I couldn’t tell if she was hitting on me by the end of the night,” is all he replies.

You scrunch your eyebrows, but then widen your eyes at the fifty percent tip. “Yeah, maybe just a little.”

*****

As much progress as he’s made, he’s not done yet. Kai’s had about three months of getting on his feet, and now he has to address a big issue that both of you have been avoiding. On a calm night neither of you had work, you decide it’s now or never to bring it up.

So, laying across his lap again, you fiddle with the ring on his finger as a show you’re half-watching runs in the background. Tension builds in your shoulders as you try to form a good question. Within minutes, he can tell something’s up with you.

“What?”

“I have something to say, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Spill.”

“So… You’ve fought hard against the fate chosen for you by your father. He didn’t think you were capable of leading the coven, so he cast you out. Made you feel like you were less of a person; of a witch, because of the way you were born.”

“Point?”

“Against all odds, you came out on top. You broke down the barriers, literally and physically, and became the leader. Now,” you pause, “you gotta lead.”

Kai swallows as if he hadn’t anticipated this aspect of his choices. That, or he never expected to get this far, and therefore, never thought about any way he’d do it. “I am,” he finally says.

“How?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“You’re telling me your father never had any specific duties he’d have to perform as leader? No responsibilities? No expectations? Nothing?”

“He had to find a wife and have a set of twins.”

“Kai-”

“I know what you mean,” he sighs. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to lead a coven! What the hell do they do? Do I have to feed them? Give them water?”

“They’re not plants, Kai. Th-”

“I know!” He pauses the TV, but luckily doesn’t try to get off the couch. “But I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that myself. I saw my dad do some of it; he’d go to meetings, and set the standards, and was there to congratulate every stupid baby ever born-”

“Kai,” you warn.

“Sorry. I just… they hate me. How am I supposed to lead them when they hate me, and frankly, I hate them, too.”

“You’re just gonna have to do your best. Don’t do exactly what your father did, but use his leadership as a guideline - whether that's what to do or what to not do, that’s your choice. Try to co-exist with them, and follow whatever rules are absolutely required.”

He bites his cheek. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” You kiss the side of his face he’s biting to make him let go. “I told you before, I’m always gonna be here for you. If that includes helping you make decisions in regards to your crazy coven, then so be it.”

*****

You’ve never seen anyone from his coven aside from his immediate family, so seeing more of the group that you’d ever anticipated was terrifying, to say the least. The whole plane trip across the country, you’re both having trouble sitting still. As he consumes mini pretzels at an abnormal rate, your tapping foot is probably peeving the passengers around you. Still, he tries his best to prepare you for what den of lions you’re about to face.

“So… meetings are usually just comprised of “elders” and their wives, plus anybody else deemed important enough to attend, or anyone who has something important to share. The elders are the decision makers, and now that includes my dad - elderly, and a past leader.” You snort at his choice of word, but then remember Kai’s actual age and realize the man probably is elderly. “So he’ll certainly be there. Jakob’s had it out for me since day one. I’m assuming he’s still alive, and he’ll be filled with piss and vinegar to see me in person. Leon’s fine. He carries the siphon gene and hasn’t had children because of it. His great uncle is rotting in a prison world somewhere, and I only know that from reading the journals from when I was in ‘94. Patrice is… unimportant,” he says, not knowing what else to say about her.

“Jeez… is anyone in your family actually pleasant?”

“My Aunt Maisie.”

“Oh, so one person.”

He nods. “She’s where Jo got ‘Laughlin’ from. You’d think if she was trying to hide from me, she wouldn’t pick the one name I’d immediately recognize.” He doesn’t say anything else on the matter, but there’s clearly more to it. You don’t push. His childhood isn’t something he wants to relive, and going to this meeting is doing exactly that. Instead, you change the topic.

“So I got us a hotel for the night, and a flight back the next morning. Partly because I know you don’t want to be here, and to be honest, I don’t want to be here, either. And, partly, because when you took off yesterday to prepare for this stupid thing, Matt texted and said Jenny missed your cocktails.”

The comment makes him smile. Even though the grill regular definitely flirts with him most nights, he’s come to enjoy her presence.

“Though I told him you’d need tomorrow night off, too, because this is going to be mentally draining, on top of the plane trip that crosses several time zones. And maybe Saturday, also.”

“Thank you,” he says genuinely, relieved that you understand him in such a way. He leans over to kiss you five seconds before the plane hits turbulence.

*****

On top of the four elders Kai mentioned, his father included, six others were also in attendance. Three were present when he was a kid, though Kai deemed them of lesser importance - they’d rarely speak, and usually only vote - and three had been elected sometime post-1994. He knows them from biannual gatherings and special occasions, but had never really spoken to them. And that reason is, of course, because he was rarely allowed out of his room for those occasions.

When he first enters the room and meets their eyes, small chatter fades to complete silence. Breaths are held as they look the boy up and down. They stare at him, then at you, and a little at your clasped hands. One-by-one, they address him, all by his full name, making his eyes twitch.

Joshua is the last of the elders to greet the new leader, being the most recent to join the council. He looks down disapprovingly before finally spitting a welcome.

“Where’s A-” Joshua turns on his heels and walks away before Kai can ask the question.

His sister then stands before him. “Aunt Maisie passed away in ‘99.”

Kai’s throat dries. “Why are you here?”

“I’m carrying the next set of twins, of course I’d be here.”

You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. He bites back a reply, but you can feel the anger coursing through his body.

Nothing important happens in the actual meeting. Jakob, as Kai predicted, shouts most of the time at no one in particular. Everyone knows he’s mad at Joshua, though, and you later learn that he originally wanted to kill the siphon boy at a mere eight years old. This time, Kai squeezes your hand to calm you.

A couple minutes is spent talking about the future of the coven. Patrice points out that although Jo is pregnant, her husband isn’t the leader. Something in her tone hints that the leader’s girlfriend should be the one to be pregnant and to bear the next set, but she’s instantly overridden by everyone shushing her about not wanting to continue the siphon, nor Kai in particular’s, direct bloodline.

In summary, you and Kai flew all the way to Portland just to be annoyed for three hours. That night, you cuddled him on the hotel bed, massaging your hands through his hair. He put up a strong, confident front to prove his ability to lead, but melted the moment you coaxed him into your arms in the privacy of the room. He’s quiet for a long time, and you’re the one that finally breaks the silence.

“I’m proud of you.”

His shoulders relax but tone hardens. “Why?” He wants to believe you, but doubts himself so much that he can’t yet.

“Because you stood up to them by coming here. You’re making an effort to prove your worth to them. Not like you should have to do that, but they’re a bunch of assholes who think you do. But regardless of that, too, it took a lot of strength to face the people who’ve done nothing but cause you pain. You handled both Jo’s and Jakob’s hostility well.”

He exhales, racing mind beginning to ease. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course. Thank you for braving this step and showing them you’re more than capable to lead.”

“They’ll never think I am.”

“That doesn’t matter. They have no say in it; you’re already doing it.”

“For twenty-two years. Until whatever is germinating in my sister’s womb pops out.”

You bite your cheek to keep from laughing. His back rests against your chest, though, and there’s no way he didn’t feel at least a chuckle. “Well then that means we have twenty-two years to figure out something else instead.”

“Pennyroyal tea?”

“No!” You say quickly, unsure if he’s joking or not. “I mean more like, I don’t know, whatever that one woman was saying.”

It takes him a moment, but then his eyes narrow. “You want to have twins?”

“Better me than Jo to have the set that will eventually take over. Even if I’m a couple years behind, they’ll have to accept the current leader’s set over his sister’s, right?”

Kai shrugs, having no idea. It sounds true, given what was hinted before the elder was shushed, but he doesn’t know. Regardless of the answer, he sighs. “You wouldn’t want that kind of tie to my coven.”

“I’m dating you, I kinda already have it.”

“Yeah, but that level of ‘in it’ is something you can’t get out of.”

“I’d do it for you.”

He swears his heart stops. You would marry into his coven and produce a set of in-line twins just for him. Kai is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you’re dating him, not to mention you’d suffer a coven meeting for him, but to also go that far… just because you love him? He can’t process it.

He wonders… maybe, he misheard you. “Did you say-” When he turns to face you, he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. Your hands remain to hold him, though you’re no longer playing with his hair. He watches your breathing for a moment, still bewildered. At some point, though, his racing mind and tired eyes drive him to exhaustion, and he finally falls asleep in your arms.

*****

Joshua’s presence at your terminal prevented you from never mentioning the conversation, as you were already late to catch your plane. The salt and pepper haired man had a few last, weak words for his son, as he tried to thank him for attending the meeting, but still shame him for winning the merge at the same time. When he made a spiral hand gesture in search of the right thing to say for the fifth time, you snapped your fingers to speed up the process, and finally then did he spit out something half-meaningful. You got on your plane with two minutes to spare and had, for the time being, completely forgotten about your earlier talk.

*****

You’re nearing the fifth month mark in your agreement with Damon and Bonnie, but to be honest, you aren’t worried about it one bit. They have no reason to punish Kai; he’s done nothing but make good progress since the deal was made.

That is, until one night at The Mystic Grill goes horribly wrong.

*****

A rather impatient series of knocks has you opening the door with your eyes rolling.

“What now?” You swing it open, expecting the pizza man. The last time, the man was so terrified of the neighbor’s dog that was barking, he was quick to hand it over and leave, forgetting his tip in the process. “I promise, the dog isn’t getting out. He’s just-”

Instead, Damon stands on the other side. “What dog? I’m not-”

“No.” You try to close it, but he stops it with his foot.

“Wait, Y/N.”

“What do you want?”

“Can’t just check up on a friend?”

“I still have time to work with Kai. And for your information, he’s doing great. We don’t need your commentary.”

“I’m just curious.” He tries to look past your shoulder into the room. “Where is the little weasel?” Unfortunately, he spots him on the couch and offers a wave.

“He has his own place down the hall, we’re just having dinner together. Got a problem with it?”

“Kai Parker has his own apartment? Wow!”

“Shut up, Damon. And why are you really here?”

“Jo told Alaric, who told me, that Kai’s been going to coven meetings lately.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Just seeing if it’s true! So what made him go?”

“He’s the leader; he’s taking up the responsibility. Like a leader does.”

He scoffs. “No influence from you?”

“Of course I’m helping him, but I’m not making decisions for him.”

“Really? This apartment, a job at the grill, being there for his family, that’s not you telling him what to do?”

“If didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t. I don’t know if you know him, but Kai doesn’t do anything unless he wants to. Sure I’m guiding him, but he has the ultimate say in all of these decisions.”

“Yeah, except if he doesn’t follow the rules, we’re gonna kill him.”

“If you can catch him,” you challenge, “because if Kai decides he doesn’t want this life, I’m prepared to run with him.” You watch Damon’s face before continuing. “But the thing is - he does. He does want to fit in, and he does want his life to have meaning, and he doesn’t want to waste it. Contrary to what you all think, he’s really trying to start something here.” Damon stares at you. “So I’d appreciate it if you’d butt out and go away.”

The man clicks his tongue, but then ultimately leaves. “See you later, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you mutter, joining him on the couch.

“You didn’t mention the guy at the bar.”

“Didn’t seem relevant. Damon makes mistakes, too.”

“What if he finds out?”

“I won’t let him hurt you. You’ve been making such good progress; you’ve been a downright angel most of the time. One bar fight in my defense isn’t going to erase all that.”

“Y/N, I killed him. He’s going to send me back to a prison world. I can’t go back there.”

You take his shoulders gently and pull him down into your lap. “He’s not going to hurt you, Kai. I promise. Rest your little head, okay?”

He nods. “And you’re sure you’ll leave with me if it comes to that?”

After the incident, he had a meltdown, fearing for his life, and almost preparing for Bonnie to burst through the door and send him away. You promised that if she were to come for him, you’d abandon this life and run with him, even if that dissolves the terms of your agreement with the pair. You had then admitted, too, that if Kai decides he doesn’t adapt well to domestic life, even without the incident that had occurred, you’re prepared to leave with him. Damon knowing that little contingency plan probably wasn’t the best, but you doubt the man believes you anyway.

“Of course. I promise.” You assure him.

*****

At nearly midnight, one week later, you hear a banging across the hall. After a moment, you poke your head out and see Damon at your door.

“The fuck do you want?”

“I thought this was your door?”

“I’m with Kai.”

“Ooh, in his apartment?”

“Did you think I was lying?”

He shrugs. “A little.”

“What do you want, Damon?”

He comes up to you with a piece of paper in his hand. He reads, “obituary of forty-two year old Patrick Johnson. Died in a bar fight last week. Split his head against the countertop. No arrests have been made,” he looks up, “happened at the grill.”

“So?”

“Sound familiar?”

“No arrests have been made.”

“Well I didn’t do it. Stefan didn’t do it. It could’ve only been Enzo, or your little “reformed” sociopath in there, and I think we both know who’s to blame.” You roll your eyes. “It’s easier to just tell the truth, sweetheart.”

“So what if it was? What are you gonna do? You’re not invited in; you can’t touch him.”

“Just tell me what happened, Y/N.” He makes a push against the boundary, but it doesn’t budge. “Look, Bonnie hasn’t seen this yet. Just tell me, and I can make it go away.”

“Why would you do that?”

“The goodness of my heart?” You snort. “Come on, Y/N.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I can go show this to her then,” he points his thumb in the other direction, “because I can promise you who she’ll point the first finger at, and considering Enzo’s been so busy sticking his nose in my brother’s business lately, odds aren’t in your favor.”

You hesitate. “Fine.”

Kai watches from the couch with bated breath. Damon gives him a little wave as he notices him. “Hello, Malachai.” You glare at the man, who then half-apologizes. “Sorry. Explain.”

“There was a fight one night when we weren't working. Matt wasn’t working either. Kai had nothing to do with starting the fight, but unfortunately, we were sitting right in the middle of it. We got up to leave, but then some man grabbed me and reached down my shirt, and Kai lost his cool.”

“Details, please.”

“He pushed him into the bar but the man kept fighting back. He spit in Kai’s face and made attempts to pull at his clothes. All the while, yelling all this shit about what he wanted to do to me, screaming profanities. Made comments about other women, too, but when he specified that he had been watching me all night and was waiting for Kai to leave, Kai pushed his head down into the countertop. He still fought. After a couple of blows to the counter, we heard a crack. It wasn’t his fault, Damon, don’t hurt him, please.”

The man stares for a moment, then at Kai. “Y’know… I’m surprised you even made it this far. I had no faith in you.”

“Damon-”

“But, I have to say, I’m impressed by your progress. Y/N here wants you to be better, and clearly you love her enough to be better for her.”

“He’s doing it for himself, too, Damon. All he’s ever wanted is to be accepted, and-”

“Save the speech. I admire the progress you’ve made, and I’d honestly hate for all of Y/N’s hard work to go to waste. Now, Bonnie hasn’t seen this yet, and you’ve toned down your menacing almost one hundred percent, and I can agree that this incident isn’t your fault. So, if you promise not to repeat it, and don’t ever speak a word of this to Bonnie-”

“She doesn’t even talk to me anymore.”

“-we don’t have to let her know it happened. I’ll go Liz, clear your name from it. She can put the blame on someone else or claim it was an accident. Just tell me that you won’t let this happen again.”

Now you’re the one staring at Damon, wide-eyed with surprise. “I-I promise.”

Kai nods, agreeing. “I didn’t mean to get in a fight, and I certainly didn’t mean to kill him. I just couldn’t let it go and he wouldn’t stop.”

“I’d do the same if it were Elena. Hell, I’d do it for Y/N, too. What’s one less douchebag in this world?”

The boy half-smiles. “Hey, Damon?”

“What?”

“If Bonnie does find out, or if she has a suspicion, what do we do?”

He shrugs. “Tell her what you told me. He wouldn’t stop. It was an accident. You were protecting Y/N.” Damon looks at you. “I know you two used to be close, so even if she’s mad about it, she’ll understand. I won’t let her do anything in terms of the agreement, I’ll, as Elijah always says,” he says with a smirk, “keep my word. And hey, you might even win brownie points for defending her.”

“Thank you.”

“Just don’t let it happen again. Next time someone starts shit, call me to compel them away, or call Liz.”

“Okay,” you reply.

“Speaking of compulsion,” he adds, “how’d you get this apartment?”

You’re quiet for a moment, then admit, “Caroline helped.” He laughs. “Don’t tell Bonnie.”

Damon puts his hands up as if to surrender. “Not a peep.”

“She said I remind her of someone named Klaus,” Kai offers.

“Ah. Yes! Baby Klaus.”

You shake your head, offended. “Not at all!”

“I’m kidding!”

“You’re a jerk.”

“All kidding, sourpuss. Alright, off to Liz.”

“Thank you again.”

“Hm. Be good.”

The death was ruled an accident the next day.

*****

Six months on the dot, Damon summons you and Bonnie back to the boarding house to rule if Kai can stay, or if Bonnie can boot him back to a prison world. The boy is nervous, despite you promising him he has nothing to fear. If anything, she should be the one anxious, upset she can’t go through with her little plan to trap him again.

The two of you show up right on time, and to your surprise, Elena’s the one to open the door.

“Hi,” she smiles. You two haven’t seen much of each other lately. Bonnie’s been adamant about her friends avoiding both you and The Grill, and many of their nights have been spent at the Scull Bar instead.

“Hi,” you greet her back. Kai gives her a smile, too, but nervousness twitches at the tip of his lips.

“I’ve been seeing the other Parker so much, it’s refreshing to see a different one,” she references Liv and her salty-ass attitude. “Hey, Damon’s said you make a mean cocktail. Put it to the test?”

Damon’s been keeping a secret eye on Kai and reporting everything back to his girlfriend. She wants to believe he’s changed, Caroline, too, and asks the question as a small way to test it. When he gives her a more confident smile and steps inside the house, she takes it as a good sign.

You follow them inside.

“Y/N!” Damon welcomes, arms open wide. He pulls you into an unexpected hug, but then whispers in your ear, “careful, she’s bitter.” The hug suddenly makes sense, and you thank him for the warning before hugging back. “And where’s the little weasel?”

“In the kitchen with Elena. She wanted a cocktail.”

“Ah. I may have told her he’s built up a little fanbase at The Grill. Jenny the Drunk is no longer his biggest tipper.”

“So I’ve heard. All the milfs want my man.”

“Well, he is closer in age to them than you.”

“Shut up.”

“Y/N,” Bonnie’s voice interrupts your banter. She smiles at you from afar, eyes clouded with mixed emotions.

“Hi,” you reply with a similar tone. Not cold, but not exactly warm, either. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay. Been studying a lot. Been helping Jo with… I’ve been busy.”

You nod. “She’s close.”

“Yeah. You know?”

“She stopped coming to meetings.”

“Meetings…?”

“Coven meetings. They’re in Portland, so we have to fly, and she’d always be there, too.”

“You’ve been going to coven meetings?”

“Kai’s the leader, he kinda has to.”

She gulps, as if not expecting him to be so productive in the six month time span. Before she can say anything else, though, Caroline comes out of nowhere with a bright yellow cocktail and a bendy straw.

“Mhm! You have to try these, they’re so good! Who’d think Kai could make such a good tropical drink? I wouldn’t until thirty seconds ago.”

You laugh. “Where’d the bendy straw come from?”

She shrugs. “Found them in the cupboard, probably Damon’s secret stash. Bonnie, you want to try?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She retreats back to the kitchen, promising she’ll bring you one.

“Did he learn that skill at The Grill? Matt taught him?”

“He learned in the prison world. They only had to train him on the more modern drinks.” She doesn’t answer. “He’s really been trying. Not only trying, but doing really well.”

“What about-”

“Guys, come in here! Damon’s summoning you,” Caroline calls.

You share one more glance and then follow her voice to the kitchen.

“Decision-making time,” Damon announces, fighting with his tongue to find his straw.

“Preferably before we get drunk,” his girlfriend agrees.

Bonnie looks less than thrilled. “This agreement was made between Y/N, Damon, and I, and only the three of us will actually be making the decision.”

Her slight attitude makes the room silent.

Caroline’s the first to speak up. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Thank you, Caroline.” The girl looks back down at her drink. She made input to keep the peace, not to argue on the behalf of one side or the other. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You mentioned Kai’s been going to Gemini meetings. Anything else he’s done?”

“Yeah, well, we started with the apartment, then the job. Felt like The Grill would be a good place since he was a regular, and that he’d be comfortable there. With time, I helped him ease into his coven role, and we go to Portland monthly for meetings. Nothing important ever really happens, they all just argue.”

“You mentioned you’ve seen Jo. She’s around eight months now. That hasn’t been a problem?”

“She wasn’t at the last meeting. Her father said he nor Rick wanted her flying. And no, it hasn’t been a problem.”

“He’s not worried about the next set of twins taking over in twenty years?”

“We’ve discussed it, but no, it’s not a problem.”

“What do you mean ‘discussed it’?”

“That’s actually none of your business, Bonnie. The only people who should be concerned with that are those in the Gemini coven, and considering you’re not, you don’t have the right to ask. And, actually, Jo got pregnant and engaged without even consulting her coven, too, so frankly, that business only belongs to Kai and I.” She blinks, not used to being told off so directly. “We’re not concerned about Jo, nor the twins. Besides, that’s over twenty years away, and not worth worrying over right now.”

“Fine. So he’s adapting well?”

“Yes.”

“Bonnie,” Damon starts, “I know we were skeptical, but I think they’ve proven us wrong-”

“One more thing.” You gulp, knowing exactly where she’s headed. “A couple months ago, I read an article where a local bar fight turned deadly. The man’s death was ruled an accident. Do you know anything about that?”

“That was-”

“And don’t you dare lie to me because we both know-”

“I wasn’t going to lie,” you snap back. “If you’d let me talk, I could explain.”

“Oh, so you do know about it? I want to hear it from him,” she nods to Kai.

Kai’s nervously chewing his lip. When you give him a gentle tilt of your head, he begins to explain. “Okay, yes, that was me. I was defending Y/N. I-”

“We told you no more killing people. The deal’s-”

“Let him explain, Bonnie,” the vampire interrupts.

“You’re defending him?!”

“Just hear him out first.”

Kai looks to Damon, then back at the girl. “The guy got physical with Y/N. He was yelling all this profane shit about her and grabbed at her shirt. When I got in the middle of them, he started hitting at me, and spitting. Every time I tried to shake him off, he’d come back for more. It was a complete accident; I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“So you did kill him.”

“Did you not hear me? I said it was an accident; he was trying to get to Y/N. I wasn’t going to let him touch her.”

“Think about it, Bonnie. If you were there, you would’ve given him a magical headache, and if his brain burst, oh well! The only difference is that Kai didn’t use magic. If anything, it’s better that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still confused. Why are you defending him? And why do you seem to know about this?!”

“I did know about it, okay? And I’m sorry for not telling you, but this is why. He was defending Y/N and I can’t blame him for that. C’mon, Bon. You’ve always been worried about her getting hurt, but he keeps her safe. It’s crazy, even for me to admit, but he does.”

“So you’re okay with him staying? You’re serious?”

“Look, he hasn’t been bothering us. Hasn’t been bothering Jo. This is the only person he’s killed and it was in Y/N’s defense. He makes great cocktails. Let’s just put this whole thing behind us.”

“Bonnie, I’ve missed your friendship these last couple months, and if you give Kai a chance, you’ll see he’s really put in a lot of effort into building a life here.”

She glares at the both of you, then back at him. She even looks to her friends for support. They shrug. “Fine.” She holds up a finger, “but if he falls back into old ways, he’s gone.”

“Thank you, Bon.”

Kai offers his thanks as well, and a second later, you jump at the feeling of his lips on the back of your neck. He apologizes for startling you, but then wraps his arms around your waist. Bonnie watches, both at how unafraid you are of him, and how in love he is with you. She fights the urge to smile, wanting to keep up her cold exterior for a little longer.

After some time, plans are made to get together for real. There’s a lot of work to be done in rekindling your friendship, but you’re on the path to getting there. As for her negative feelings about Kai, she’s just going to have to see his change for herself.

*****

That night, you’re curled in bed together when something suddenly harbors in his mind. He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he wants to bring it up; if you even remember it happening, but then curiosity begins to fester in him.

“Can we talk about something, Y/N?”

“What’s that?”

“I was reminded earlier, when you were talking about Jo to Bonnie… in the hotel room after the first meeting, did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“What you said about, like, having twins? That you’d do it for me?”

You backtrack your mind several months to that conversation. It happened a little like this one - you holding him, him being a little weary about the day’s events. Ah. “Yes.”

He perks up. “Yes, you remember it, or yes, you meant it?”

“Both. I do remember that conversation. And yes, I would give you a set of twins if you wanted to keep your bloodline in the leadership.”

“Why?”

“Why?” You repeat his question, glancing at him to see if he’s serious. His face is riddled with confusion - definitely serious. “Because I love you. And they might have doubts about you, but I have faith in your ability to lead, and I believe you’d be a good father, too.”

Now he crinkles his nose. “Why?”

“Well the man who raised you barely did at all. He isolated you, and hurt you, and treated you like crap just because you were born differently. And despite that, and despite a few bumps along the way, you’ve proven you’re capable of deep, gentle love. You prove it to me daily, and you’ve proven patience at your job and with Bonnie, and understanding. You’ve managed to survive despite the circumstances you’ve been given, and all those things are traits I know you would teach a child, because you’d do everything to prevent raising them like your father raised you; to make sure they grow up in a loving environment, like one you should’ve been given. And, you’d teach them how to survive in this coven, because unfortunately, as leader, you’re still tied to them, but you would teach them how to remain strong. And even if we ever happen to have twins and they’d need to merge, you’d still make sure their lives are meaningful before it.”

Kai’s quiet for a while. “If we did that, I wouldn’t want it just for the benefit of the coven. It would be out of my love for you, and if we have a desire to have kids. Not like Jo, where it was an accident, but not like my father, who only needed a leader.”

You kiss his head. “I agree.”

“So you would be okay with that? If we did, at some point?”

“Of course. When the time comes for that, we can talk about it more, but yes.”

“Good, because I’m not ready now.” He relaxes, but then stiffens again. “But wait, Jo… if we’re trying to beat her to this, don’t we need to do it now?”

You choose your next words carefully, unsure if they even hold any meaning. “Well… if I’m understanding it correctly, the leader’s twins would be next in line, regardless if there’s another set in the family. So even if Jo’s are, say, nine or ten, if we have a set, wouldn’t they be next in line?”

“But they don’t want to continue my line because of the siphon gene.”

“Yes, but you’re still the leader, so maybe we can argue that when the time comes. Besides, we can’t do anything about it now. She’s eight months and I’m, obviously, not even in the same playing field.” You rub his arm comfortingly, or at least, hoping it’ll bring him comfort in light of your next few words. “Maybe… okay. First off, I don’t think Jo wants to participate in the merge with her future kids. She’s already tried to escape this family once, I doubt she wants her kids brought back in it. So maybe if we have a set, she’ll just let them take over.”

“But she might merge them just to prevent my line from continuing in leadership.”

“Or, she might welcome kids raised by you and I to lead instead, if we can prove to her we can raise good kids,” you half-joke. He nods. “Because as much animosity as she has towards you, I really don’t think she wants her kids following in coven tradition. Even so, if she does merge hers, we can just follow right up with ours and take it back.” Kai lets out a small chuckle. “But even if hers do take the leadership, I don’t think they’ll try to hurt you. By then, you’ll be settled in, and we’re already far away from your father. Jo trusts me, I think, and we can continue to make peace with her. We’ll be okay. You’ll be safe, I promise. As long as you’re with me-”

“-I’m safe.”

“Exactly.” You kiss him. “And if by somehow there’s a huge falling out and the coven does get violent again,” you shrug, “we’ll just become vampires.”

At first he laughs, but then grows serious as the words hit him. “You’d really do that with me? Transition and live forever just to keep them from killing me?”

“Mhm. I would live a thousand lives as long as I have you with me in all of them.”

#kai parker x reader #malachai parker x reader #kai parker oneshot #tvd fanfiction #tagging this was so hard

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hanniology · 2 years ago

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two umbrellas | jeon wonwoo

Synopsis: wonwoo doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but you do after meeting him. genre: fluff, sick fic, kinda angst. warnings: none I think besides the fact yn makes a bad pick up line. calls wonwoo, wonuwu, im sorry. word count: 1528. pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader. Note: another repost until i have time to post some new stuff later.

“Hey there Wonuwu.”

The boy you addressed the new nickname to lifts an eyebrow.

“Wonuwu?” He asked with a slight face of disgust.

“Yea I think it’s a really cute name for you, what do you think?”

He turns to face you with a straight face, “No.”

Rolling your eyes at his response as he goes back to take a tour of the library to make sure everybody has left the building already. Knowing you’re gonna follow him.

“OUCH!!” He hears you exclaim behind him.

“Wonuwu, my face hurts.”

Not looking behind him because it was probably just a line to one of your cheesy pick up lines you’d always make.

“Did you walk into a bookshelf again?”

“What no that was one time-it’s because I fell face-first for you~” You explain, he was right about it being a part of a pick up line but he still cringed.

“You ruined the joke.” You grumbled while pouting.

You’ve always been like this, making really bad, cheesy, overused pick up lines thinking it’d impress him.

The two of you met in a coffee shop that you worked at, Jihoon, one of his roommates recommended it to him saying it had good coffee and was nice and quiet as long as you don’t go in at rush hour. So he decided to go one day when he didn’t have work, and that day you were working. You remember that day when you saw him, he was absolutely beautiful.

You were taking his order and well when giving him his coffee you thought of giving him your number on his cup. Wonwoo received the cup with the number on it and walked out of the coffee shop to meet up with some friends. He didn’t notice until later when Mingyu pointed out and convinced (read:begged) him to text the number.

He obliged and texted your number asking who this was. You introduced yourself as the person who was serving him and told him he was so pretty and was gonna try and win him over.

He blocked your number.

He didn’t want to seem rude but he didn’t want to deal with some random person he doesn’t know that’s trying to woo him. He’s also just been a strong believer that love at first sight just doesn’t exist.

No one can just grow feelings towards someone that quickly.

He thought that'd be the end of you but that wasn’t until he found you sitting in the living room in his dorm. He thought you were trying to stalk him and threaten to call the auditory. To then realize you were in the same performing arts classes as hoshi and jun, his other roommates and are good friends with them and they invited you over.

And as time passed you two became friends (?) it’s complicated, the two of you would hang out because of friends and sometimes just the two of you. You’d always go on with your lame pick up lines and he'd just simply ignore them and move on.

“Why do you always insist on coming here? You could just go straight home from work. And it’s raining today.”

“Eh, just thought I’d give you some company, you know, it gets quiet in the library when it’s closing time. It gotta be boring.” You shrugged.

Wonwoo finished the turn of the library and went to go get his stuff and you as always followed him. You always did and it wasn’t anything weird. He was used to it but you wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t comfortable with; you always respected his boundaries.

The two of you were outside now with rain falling down crashing to the ground, the sound of it much louder than it was when you two were indoors.

You watch the frown slowly grow on Wonwoo’s face as he looks at the rain.

“Here,” you hand him your umbrella.

“No, no it’s fine the dorm isn’t too far from here, I don’t want you to get sick because of me.” He declines the umbrella, dropping it back into your hands.

“Aww you care about me~” you coo.

He scoffs before mumbling a “whatever”.

“The dorm is not too far from here so I could make a run for it.” He says before dashing off with just a hood over his head.

“Wait!” You yelled at him trying to get his attention, “I brought two just in case.” Take out the other umbrella from your bag.

He didn't hear you, he was just running and you watch his form become smaller and smaller as he runs with you standing there with two umbrellas.

Putting one back in your bag and opening the other, you started walking to your place. Stopping in your tracks when you remember his dorm is not that close to the library.

The next day you weren’t too sure what to do. You didn’t have any classes today and you had a day off from work. Soonyoung and Jun were planning on going to some tiger sanctuary , you didn’t really feel like going.

Ding noise came from your phone, rolling to the other side of your bed to reach over for your phone. You see a text message from Jihoon.

Unplugging the charger from the phone opened up the message.

It was weird for Jihoon to be messaging you, you always thought he hated you. He always looked somewhat annoyed when you were around, but Jun said he’s just always like that. You weren’t even sure if you guys ever exchanged numbers.

Jihoon: yo I got your number from wonwoo’s phone.

Jihoon: Can you come over? Wonwoo is sick and I got work and Jun and soon left already.

Yn: sure but how’d he get sick?

Jihoon: The rain I think he came back soaked yesterday.

So you were right that he would have gotten sick. And he calls himself smart.

Yn: ok I’ll be there just need to stop by somewhere

Wonwoo slightly wakes up at the sudden noise he hears someone enter the room. Jihoon most likely already left, but he did say something about someone coming over, not remembering who because he was too tired.

He hears the footsteps gradually become louder and closer until the footsteps seem to stop in front of him. Looking up to see you, you were putting down a big bag on his nightstand.

“Oh you’re awake? Did I wake up? Sorry.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” His voice sounded scratchy. Before he could even sit up he felt your hand pushing him down back to his previous lying position.

“Rest.” You demanded.

“What’s in the bag?” He sees you in the corner of his eye, as you slowly take everything out of the bag.

“Oh, well Jihoon said you were sick, but I didn’t know exactly what kind of sickness, so I just took one of everything from one of the shelves at the store.”

“Even got you some corn patches.” Holding them to him. With the sleepy boy giving you a strange look, giving him a shrug back.

“But why are you here and buying all this stuff for me?”

You finish taking out everything from the bag and take a seat on the ground next to his bed. “Because I care about you.” You say simply.

“Yn-’’

You interrupted him knowing what he’s gonna say.

“Yea Wonwoo I know you don’t like me the way I do but I mean I still like having you as a friend. Don’t worry the feeling I have for you will leave eventually, but I still care for you, you know.”

There was a silent pause after you said that, you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at the ground kicking your feet side to side at each other. So you just assume that sleep took over him.

“Don’t.”

“Huh?” Lifting your head, seeing his body facing you and watching you with soft, droopy, sleeping eyes.

“Don’t stop having those feelings for me. I don’t want those to leave while mine are starting to arrive.” He mumbled quietly, before taking a sneeze.

Handing him a tissue, letting the gears in your head turn. “Wait, Arrive. What??”

“Yeah, I kinda wish I’m not all snotty sick and sleepy when I confessed.” He admits, letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

“Well you wouldn’t have to if you just took my umbrella yesterday.”

“I didn’t want you to get sick.” He mumbled.

“Awwww, you really do care about me.” You coo pinching his cheek.

Rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” He scoffs.

“Ok maybe I do care about you,” he quickly mumbles.

“So you should leave or you’ll get sick too.”

Shaking your head, “No it’s fine, if I get sick you’ll take care of me I’m not too worried.” You smile at him.

Letting out a sigh knowing that you aren’t gonna leave.

He starts to toss in the bed pulling the blanket higher, looking like he’s ready to go to sleep. You watch as his eyes fall close and his breathing becomes slower.

“You know I had two umbrellas.” You fall backwards giggling at Wonwoo’s reaction.

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baronessvonglitter · 5 months ago

Text

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 2 🍒

“Coffee & Garth Brooks”

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 1,247

Summary: Joel visits you at work and during some innocent flirting, you reveal something that you probably should have just kept quiet about.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, however this chapter is pretty tame, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race mentioned and will not be throughout the series, until specified this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, flirting, reader has mild fantasies about Joel, no use of y/n

Series Masterlist

Mondays at the cafe are hectic. So as eager as you are to see if Joel will show up, you're also swamped with orders. It's not until the crowd begins to clear that you see him. He's smiling at you and you can't ignore the way your heart does a little backflip.

"Hey!" You greet him with a smile.

He approaches the counter. Today he's wearing a heather-gray t shirt and jeans. His hair is tousled, beard neatly trimmed, and you catch a whiff of clean-scented shower gel coming off him. "I remember you," he says, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

"I remember you too. . and I remember I owe you a coffee for helping me yesterday."

"Hang on there. Where's that ring I labored so arduously to free from your kitchen drain?"

You smile at his wordiness. "Why, it's right here." You extend your left hand to show off the ring, a lot cleaner and shinier than the last time he saw it.

He surprises you by taking your hand with a delicate touch. "It would've been a shame to lose somethin' so pretty." His eyes move up to yours, as if to gauge your reaction. "That offer still on the table?"

This small yet meaningful gesture mesmerizes you. "The… offer?" you mumble. "Oh! The coffee." Crimson, you fix his coffee, giving him a bigger size than you're supposed to. "Are you on your way to a site?" You ask as you hand him his drink.

"Thank you. Yeah, I've gotta check in on a site before noon." He sips his coffee, leaning against the counter. You try not to stare but you give a quick glance - his body, even when at rest, seems powerful.

"What's it like, being a contractor? Do you like it?" Before the words come out of your mouth you realize how immature you sound. Of course he likes it. He wouldn't be in that business if he didn't.

You feel a little relief when he smiles. "It depends on the day. You get plenty of sun, and you have to deal with a lot of bullshit, deadlines.. but it pays. So I don't mind it all that much. What about you? You enjoy bein' a barista?" Joel smirks and you wonder if he's enjoying your exchange as much as you are.

"It's thrilling," you say in a deadpan voice. "Wanna trade places for a day?"

"I'll pass," he laughs. "Sounds like you're tryin' to get out of work right now," he teases you, leaning over the counter. He places his elbows down and rests his chin on his clasped palms.

"Can you blame me? At least you get your choice of music in your truck, not whatever this is," you roll your eyes at the indie jazz playing over the speakers.

"I'm in charge of the radio in my truck. Just the way I like it."

"What do you listen to?" You also lean against the counter, subconsciously angling yourself towards him. You're only vaguely aware of the cafe, of your surroundings. As you talk with him it just feels good.

"I'll listen to almost anything: rock, oldies, anything really. I guess I don't like anything too artsy and pretentious-soundin'," he answers.

"You strike me as a country music lover," you give him a little bit of teasing.

He tilts his head to the side. "You got a read on me already, huh? Well I won't lie, I listen to some country, but only the old stuff. Not this new, pop-py, overproduced stuff."

"Do you like Garth Brooks? George Strait? They're the greats. You have to like them."

"Girl, you're too young to tell me who the greats are," he grins. "George is the king of country music. Garth's a given. He's kinda cheesy sometimes, but his songwriting is great, no denyin' that."

"When I was a kid I used to go around singing his songs to anyone who would listen. I would put on a show, sing at the top of my lungs.. I was a pretty rambunctious kid," you laugh at the memory.

"Bet you're just as rambunctious as an adult too," he says playfully.

You smirk. Joel's flirting with you, there's nothing more obvious. "I'm a college girl. I'm supposed to be rambunctious."

He gives a low chuckle and an intrusive thought slides into your brain: you want to know what that low rumble in his chest sounds like, with your ear pressed against him… When you come back to your senses you catch his eyes scanning your face. "Fair enough. I'm sure you've got all the boys chasin' ya, huh?"

There it is: the question you thought was only ever asked in books, in movies, and Joel is the one to ask it about you. "Oh.. not really.."

"I find that hard to believe."

You look away a moment, wiping an invisible spot on the counter with a cloth. "Truth is, I kind of have someone.. back home in Houston." You dare a peek at him only to see something like relief cross his face.

"That's great," he says, maintaining a smile.

You regret saying something like that. Trevor isn't someone worth bringing up to Joel, yet you have used him almost as a shield, and you don't know why. "It's, uh.. kind of uh.. ambiguous," you add. "He's going to university there. I guess we're still figuring things out."

Joel nodded slowly. "So.. it's complicated, is what you're sayin'?"

"A little.. I don't really, you know, want to talk about it." You smile and shrug as if it's a minor thing.

"Of course." He puts his hands up, then he looks like he wants to say something but he stays quiet. Looking at his watch he says, "I gotta get to the site."

"Yeah.. I should also get back to work." You turn your back for a moment then turn again to say something else to him but he's already outside going to his truck.

The rest of your shift goes by smoothly and you pocket your tips and start home. Once you're comfortable in the house you allow yourself to think about your interaction with Joel. Of course the first friend you make in Austin would be the ruggedly handsome, middle-aged man next door. A man with a daughter only a few years younger than yourself.

You've never really been in this position before. You don't really recognize your own feelings. You've had crushes on older guys before: teachers, coaches.. so why is this time different? And why are you struggling with it?

Joel, meanwhile, feels himself in almost the same predicament. He doesn't want to admit it to himself but he really likes you. The age difference is too much for him to even consider, but your presence.. it's getting to him. He likes talking to you, wants to be close to you.. but he can't. He doesn't want to mess up his life, and it will only cause problems if he doesn't keep his distance. He worries he won't be able to fully shake you off his mind.

A few days later he spots a paper on his truck windshield. It's a handwritten note from you:

pool party at our place this Saturday @ 2 pm

and your name signed underneath. Joel smiles and gets a pen from inside his truck to write a reply.

We'll be there, he writes beneath your message and he leaves the paper on your car windshield.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #ao3 fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro boys #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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dumbassaimee · 4 months ago

Text

Hi 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼, here’s another one of these silly stories

summary: you’re invited to a party, as you roamed around you found James cowboy hat, putting it on for almost the whole night, little did you know, that has a little meaning behind it. That apparently you did not know of, if you wore a cowboys hat it indicates your attraction to them.

Warnings: cussing, smut, drinking and mentions of smoke.

————————————————————————

It was a random Friday night with the same cycle of partying, as I sat there on the booth I could see people drinking, couples rubbing against each other, with the stench of alcohol and smoke.

James was talking to me earlier but left to go get more beer for himself, what a shock. Although he left his precious white cowboy hat, feeling bored out of my mind I decided to put it on.

As the night went on I did talk to some people here and there, drank, and danced, though I did feel many eyes looking straight at me, it made me feel kinda insecure like if there was something wrong of me.

It wasn’t quite dirty glares but more of skeptical looks.

Whatever it was I had to check it out myself, I made my way through the hallway of this pub finding a mirror besides the two bathrooms, my eyebrows furrowed as I studied my face.

My mind was a bit fuzzy that’s until I heard James behind me “why are you wearin’ my hat?”

“I dunno I got bored” I muttered not sure what the big deal was anyway.

“Right don’t act all innocent” he chuckled, “I’m not!” I defend before continuing “seriously what’s wrong with it?”

“You wearing it, is what’s wrong” he crossed his arms against his chest looking down at me like if I was a child getting in trouble.

“Oh how helpful” I shot back sarcastically, “if you’re just going to start pointing something out at least tell me the reason” I scoffed.

“Wearing the cowboys hat dumbass..

Ring any bells??” I just stared at him confused out of my mind, I’m actually getting tired of this nonsense, thankfully he caught up that I indeed did not know shit.

“God…wearing my hat means you’re attracted to me among other things” he trailed off.

“What other ‘things’?” I turned my body to face him, he just chuckled “like riding the cowboy for example.”

As I heard those words coming out of his mouth I couldn’t believe it; has people known that this is James hat? This has to be the most embarrassing thing I’ve gone through.

“Are you serious?” I asked not believing I wasn’t aware of that rule.

“Clear as the sky” he smirked at me, “so, wanna play by the rules? Because I can show you a great time.”

“Do I have another choice?” My eyes flickered up to his blue ones before he answered “Nope.”

“Great..” I mumbled under my breath, looking down trying to contemplate this but he grabbed my chin making me look back up at him. “It’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ sweetheart.” There it is, that pet name that gives me those stupid butterflies.

“Yes..?” I felt unsure but he took the opportunity anyway, grabbing my hand and taking me to some part of the pub I didn’t know existed, it was a small room, there was a sleek black leather couch, the only lights being blue colored, there was a zebra pattern carpet in the middle which I found incredibly cheesy.

He brought me up to the couch, sitting me down onto his lap as he caressed my sides carefully, like if he were to be a piece of art.

“You should lose these tight jeans” he murmured, obeying I slowly got off his lap, unbuttoning the front of my jeans and slowly sliding them off, revealing the black lacy panties.

He darted his tongue out to lick his bottom lip, as I finally got them off he reached out grabbing my hips and sitting me back down.

He cupped my face “you look so hot right now” he chuckled, before I knew it we both leaned in, connecting our lips together into a kiss that soon turned passionate, his other free hand trailed down to caress my upper thigh, squeezing the flesh gently.

He pulled away and admittedly started to attack my neck with sloppy kisses, gentle bites here and there, as for his hand it rested on my hip but his thumb reached down, moving it in small circles against my clothed clit.

“James..” I breathed out, he just added more pressure making sure I felt everything, making me whimper softly.

“hmm..” he hummed in approval before pulling away completely, taking the hat off my head and hooking his fingers on my shirt and taking it off for me, “I’m gonna take these off yeah?” I nodded giving him permission.

He tugged on my bra taking it off revealing my breasts to him, he groaned “fuck you’re gorgeous” I felt him hardening under me.

“James please” I whined, I needed this man I didn’t care how desperate I sounded right now.

“Patience sweetheart” grabbing the waistband of my panties, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me up enough to pull them off of me.

Once those were off I’m completely bare the only piece of clothing being his cowboy hat, slowly running his finger along my slick folds.

“Your so god damn wet.” He murmured. “gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?”

Before I could react or say anything I felt two finger enter my hot cunt, gasping at the feeling my walls clenching around his fingers perfectly.

“Shit you’re tight” he sighed and started to plunge his fingers, curling them hitting every spot he finds.

I started to squirm getting overwhelmed by how good his fingers felt inside of me, “stay still” he scoffed fastening his pace just slightly.

My hands went to his shoulders, nails digging onto his shirt as his fingers work on my pussy, letting dirty little noises fall out of my lips.

He started to be a bit more rough, getting faster as he kept his eyes on mine keeping eye contact.

As I was about to reach my orgasm he pulled his fingers out, I whined at the lost of contact of his delicious fingers.

He glanced at his fingers seeing them coated in my juices then bringing them onto his mouth licking them clean, “taste so good” he grunted.

“I need you to ride me, can you do that angel?” I nodded biting my lip lightly. He then started to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans just enough to pull his painfully hard dick.

And he was big, made me feel nervous and excited at the same time.

He pumped his cock at least three times before grabbing my hips to make me hover over him, I felt him align his tip against my entrance teasing by rubbing on it a few times, rubbing his pre-cum all over my folds.

Slowly I started to sink down, his length stretching me out making me wince. “You okay?” James Being quick to ask, I nodded “yeah..” being determined to take him all I kept going ignoring the pain until I sat all the way down.

I heard him groan and grip my hips tighter, I stayed in place until I got used to his size, I rolled my hips biting my lip at the feeling.

Holding onto his shoulders still I started to move up and down, sounds of pleasure leaving the both of us, his hand started to help me move at a rhythmic pace.

His length sliding in an out of my wet cunt perfectly, my head tilting back as I kept riding off the pleasure.

“Fuck-..you feel so good” he groaned.

“James please..” I whimpered out, one of his hands trailing over my ass giving me a harsh smack, I moaned at the feeling it was so overwhelming.

“..Mm so close” I gasped, “yeah? Gonna cum for me darlin’?” He started to thrust his hips upward making him go even deeper, my mouth agape as I let him take complete control.

My nails digging onto his shoulders, it’ll definitely leave marks.

“Come on baby” he cooed trying to get me to my high.

Finally I let out a scream of ecstasy, coating his dick.

He kept going, gripping my hips and setting me down all the way as I felt his cum painting my walls.

“Fuck..you did so good for me” he groaned taking a few strands out of my face, I panted softly and smiled tiredly.

We stayed like that for a few seconds before he kissed me sweetly.

#james hetfield #90s #metallica #smut #minors dni

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via-l0ve · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I've been binging your fics/imagines lately and I just can't get enough! I don't know if this was ever done before, but--

Could you do a general, platonic (perhaps mildly romantic, like how I see Dean kinda gushing over Y/N idk, your choice!) imagine on how the men (Sam, Dean, Castiel, maybe Crowley [which would be funny]) would react to Y/N being some kind of powerful angel, like that sits at a pretty high rank and has the power to do all sorts of stuff? Healing, destroying, anger being so destructive it could kill a human (but albeit a peaceful being). This angel would probably serve as a guardian to the Winchesters, or a superior to Cass or a complete surprise and maybe unlikely companion for Crowley? I imagine it'd be a scenario where they're saved last second during a massive fight, probably get to know er type deal. This sounds kind of cheesy as I ask someone else to write this but I hope it doesn't sound too weird, I almost wanna go anonymous HAHA. I know this is VERY specific but I don't wanna confuse you! It's something I wanna write out into a fic myself but the way you write would make it super interesting! :)

So sorry if this was too much, I'm very descriptive!

Angel. (SPN pref!) 🩷

a/n: stop omg. this idea is so cool! also - thank you for the kind words!! i appreciate you so much!! i hope you enjoy this!

warnings: slightly romantic!!

Dean:

Dean met you on a hunt

he was being himself and basically bleeding out, but he was still fighting

you, being in charge of the dink, had to come down and help out

when you appear, a bolt of white light strikes the ground and your voice projects through the atmosphere

“you will not hurt this man.” you say, hair blowing in the wind and eyes glowing

dean was flabbergasted, also a little scared, but also a little bit in love

eventually you just kill the entire vampire nest because they’re stupid and you turn to dean.

“are you okay?”

he’s even more confused because this angel just came down and slaughtered the threats to him and now they’re talking so.. nice.

you heal his wounds and boom. now he’s your friend

he follows you around like a lost puppy and also brags that he’s friends with not one, but two angels, and one is even more powerful and higher up than fucking CASTIEL.

as he gets to know you he knows how sweet you are and it inteigues him even more because - as i said, you’re a powerful angel who can kill anyone but you’re so nice to him, Sam, Bobby and Cas.

the first time he sees you angry he literally gets all red and falls for you

—

Sam:

You first met sam when he was basically bleeding out in a motel room

Dean had gone to get food and sam had been hiding a pretty nasty gash from him

so now he was sitting alone trying to patch himself up (and being unsuccessful)

so, you made your appearance and tried to keep him calm

you appeared and he saw you and went 👁️👄👁️

“it’s okay. i’m an angel. i will not hurt you.” you say softly, stepping towards him

sam is still a little wary but he lets you heal him

you press your fingers to his forehead and he’s all good (albeit a little scared hahah)

he always has the smuggest little smirk on his face when you get angry on his behalf

he likes the feeling of having such a powerful being watching over him all the time but it also makes him nervous because of… his past💀

addicts recover

—

Castiel:

When you came down from heaven to help the Winchesters and Castiel, he was happy to see you

he knew, despite rebelling from heaven, you wouldn’t judge him

he spends a lot of time near you

like, standing right next to you

i like to think that you have better “people skills” than him for whatever reason (it’s just funny) and he just kind of sticks to you ykwim

he thinks you’re so cool

he dosent step in to help you in fights because he knows you can handle it and kill anyone you want

he’s blushing and kicking his feet when he sees you🤭🤭🤭

absolute power couple if you guys got together like omg

but yeah

he always defends you if anyone says shit

he’s just such a cutie pie

—

Crowley:

you popped in when crowley was holding dean and sam hostage

you came into the room, eyes rolling already.

“let them go.” you said, voice sounding bored as you’d done this multiple times already.

crowley looks at you

“oh god, you again.” he scoffs

BUT he dosent even bother to argue and lets them go

which shocks the boys because that’s not like crowley

but he’s smitten for you

it’s giving enemies to lovers

but anyways

you guys have many encounters and end up talking a lot

crowley talks about hell and you talk about heaven

and he finds himself not hating you

and suddenly he wants to be around you more and learn about you and watch you be a badass angel

#love u mwah #thank you sm for this request #dean winchester #castiel x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #castiel #sam winchester x reader #crowley #crowley x reader #dean winchester supernatural #sam winchester supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #castiel supernatural #supernatural #crowley supernatural

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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 9 - A bubbly experience 🫧

Summary: Katsuki acts like a good fucking husband. That’s the summary.

Warnings: swear words, Reader and Katsuki are sharing a bath naked, mentions of being aroused but no smut at all. They only kiss. Pinky promise.

16+ but let’s make it 18+ for safety.

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ahh. The sun is up already. You really fucking hate existing right now. Being in this condition is already bad enough, but the mornings are the worst of it all; waking up feels like coming back from hell after going through 300 different kinds of torture.

“Just end my suffering.” You mumble to yourself, completely forgetting that you are not alone.

“It’s five fucking AM, shut the fuck up.” Comes the sweet answer from your side; Katsuki’s hair tickles the back of your neck as he snuggles into you as much as he can, probably trying to cancel out the light and the noise at the same time. His arms tighten around your middle possessively, pulling you as close as humanly possible, absolutely ignoring the fact that there are some parts of him that you weren’t completely ready to feel at “five fucking AM” in the morning as Katsuki would say. “You need somethin’? Water? Toilet? Anythin’?” He mumbles after his mind caught up with the situation. People can say whatever they want about Katsuki being a terrible boyfriend material, but those people don’t fucking see him all soft and mushy and caring and affectionate….

“Nah, I have everything I need right here.” You stroke his hands sitting on your belly with a lovesick smile on your face.

“That was so fucking cheesy.” Katsuki GIGGLES and takes a deep breath, his nose deep in your hair. “You smell like shit.” He snorts, but you can feel that he’s still smiling.

“Stop smelling me then, weirdo.”

“Nah, I love it.” Katsuki grins. Your heart skips a beat.

Honestly. This man is something else. You kinda want to go on a gossip site and leave an anonymous message about Dynamight’s soft side. The fan girls would eat that shit up for sure.

“You will be the death of me.” You mumble into your sheets with a red face.

“I’m literally keeping you alive right now.” Katsuki retorts proudly. “Now shut up and sleep, I’m not ready for this shit.”

“What shit?” You ask, confused.

“Living.”

Fair deal.

Early morning conversations with Katsuki are certainly your new favorite things in the whole world.

~•💥•~

“Wake up, you lazy shit.” Katsuki grumbles, clearly annoyed. The lovely scent of freshly brewed coffee hits your nose and that’s enough for you to have the energy to open your eyes and lean towards the lovely scent; you kinda resemble those dogs smelling bacon while they sleep in those funny videos on YouTube but you can’t be bothered to be ashamed of yourself right now; being in this condition is already enough of an embarrassment anyway. “I brought your breakfast in today but I hate when people eat in bed so this is the last time, got it?”

“Yes, boss!” You take the coffee from Katsuki’s hands automatically, but he takes it away with a disappointed look on his face.

“Did you really forget why I’m bringing you breakfast to bed?”

“Because you love me?” You answer self-deprecatingly.

Katsuki only sighs.

“What’s the time?” He mumbles. Well, that’s a really stupid question to ask right now, but okay; you reach towards the nightstand to check your phone. Surprisingly, the device stays in your hand for quite a long time before your arms give in and the phone falls into your lap.

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that for a second.”

You are such an idiot sometimes, honestly. Being in love really makes you stupid.

“How are you feelin’?” Katsuki mumbles as he slowly sits down next to you with the tray of food. It looks phenomenal, just like everything Katsuki makes.

“You worry too much, Kats.” You smile at the hero but he only rolls his eyes at that.

“I ain’t worried, you would even survive the fucking plague. I just don’t want a coffee stain on my mattress, that’s all.”

“Sure.” You giggle to yourself while Katsuki slowly feeds you the pancakes even thought you are quite sure your arms work just enough to take the fork and feed yourself, even if it would be a bit slow.

For some weird reason, Katsuki looks content. He cuts the pancake into small pieces, prolonging the whole thing like he wants to enjoy this for longer than it’s needed, he tilts the coffee mug gently and slowly as he lets you drink the super sweet caramel coffee he made just for you and when the food is gone he makes sure there isn’t a single stain on your face by wiping your lips with a napkin but the touch feels so gentle, it feels like a caress; Katsuki acts the opposite of his usual self but somehow, it feels more genuine than his angry grumbles. After breakfast, Katsuki asks you to stay in bed while cleans up the mess; he comes back a few minutes later, his face determined; whatever he’s about to say the only acceptable answer is YES.

To be fair, that’s fine. It’s not like there is anything you wouldn’t do for this man…

“Your smelly ass is gonna have a bath and I’ll help.”

… Nevermind. Scratch that.

“Fuck no.”

Wait, wait, wait. You haven’t even seen each other naked yet. You haven’t even… well… you haven’t done the deed or anything like that, the most intimate thing between you two was when you touched the hem of his boxers at his parent’s house and he absolutely hated it. You are still not completely over the fact that he hated it, by the way. You understand why, but it still hurts like a bitch! There is no way you can get naked in front of him and…

“Fuck yes.” Katsuki retorts. “The bath is ready and it’s super bubbly, so I won’t see shit. Come on.”

The blonde acts like a stubborn dad, his arms already under your armpits to pull you up.

“Katsuki, put me down, I need a moment.” You yelp as he puts you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, barely listening to your anxious retorts.

“The more you think about it the worst it’s gonna be. Let’s get over with this. You trust me, don’t you?”

That was a fucking low-blow. Emotional manipulation, that is. Fuck’s sake.

You know you are freaking out over nothing; you are both adults and both heroes, full of scars that will never fade. He knows how you look like under all the oversized clothing; fuck, Katsuki have kissed most of your scars in his room right before you two made your way to meet Katsuki’s parents. It’s just…

This is not how you wanted him to see you for the first time. You are not a romantic person and you definitely had a hunch Katsuki isn’t either so you kinda imagined your first time to happen out of the blue, hands wondering a bit too far, unable to stop and then things just happen… you thought the first time he sees you naked will be the time you two decide to take the next step; when you are too busy and too excited to really take in the sight. Somehow, this whole situation makes you feel so fragile and insecure, it actually clouds your mind enough you almost make the blonde stumble as you reach out for the door frame to make him stop.

Coming here was a mistake. A big fucking one at that.

Katsuki sighs but he doesn’t let go yet; he strokes your back soothingly, silent for a moment then slowly takes a step forward until your arms give in and hands falls, your whole body giving in to the fatigue. A sweet scent fills your lungs when you take a deep breath; cinnamon, caramelized sugar with a citrusy undertone; it smells like Katsuki but not really; the scent is more fresh than Katsuki’s usual scent and it’s much stronger.

“If you really don’t want to, I’ll put you back to bed.” Katsuki’s confidence clearly wavers as he puts you down on the toilet seat. He hands you your toothbrush, not even trying to force you to do anything anymore; the guy looks heartbroken to be honest, and you absolutely hate seeing him like this and you hate the fact that YOU made him feel like this even more. You quickly wash your teeth while Katsuki stands by the door, clearly in his own little world, probably deciding between leaving or staying. He takes one step forward and one step back, just how he did yesterday when he wasn’t sure if sleeping together was okay or not.

For you, it was so obvious that it’s okay yet he still managed to waver and overthink the whole situation; Bakugou Katsuki might look like an over-confident asshole but deep inside he’s just as uncertain as you are.

You spit out the toothpaste and Katsuki appears by your side right away; he takes the toothbrush from you, cleans your mess up without a single retort and he’s just about to leave the room when your mind finally clears out enough to see how stupid you are being right now.

“Can you stay? I want you to stay.” You mumble into the awkward silence; your cheeks feel burning hot so you are quite sure your whole face is as red as a tomato, but it doesn’t really matter right now. “I want to try and get in alone. I feel like I’m not as weak as I thought I’ll be, which is a good sign but I want to be sure. Will you catch me if I fall?”

“Of course, you idiot.” Katsuki mumbles but he doesn’t roll his eyes this time. He turns away and closes his eyes, probably listening to his surroundings so he can catch you without even looking; his face is determined like he’s about to fight the final boss blind and seeing him like this makes you feel so many things at once; adoration, gratitude, pure love and trust towards the person who’s willing to do all of this for his girlfriend of a few weeks without a single nasty retort. Bakugou Katsuki is not a person who wills to shape himself to fit anyone’s expectations, not even All Might’s, yet here he is, soft and pliant, only an arms length away, listening, understating and trying his best to do what makes you feel the most comfortable in this fucked up situation. You are sure this is not how he wanted this to go either; he also had to have his own daydreams about the day you two tear down another wall between you, but he doesn’t complain, doesn’t say a word, just goes with the flow and let’s you take over, even if it kills him inside.

If you didn’t know Katsuki’s words were true before, you definitely know the truth now; he wouldn’t do any of this if he wouldn’t love you as much as you love him. The realization hits you like a truck and butterflies erupt in your chest as you slowly take your shirt off, then your pajama pants until you shakily stand, completely naked, right next to the bath tub. You sit down on the rim, take in the sight of the thick layer of bubbles, one of your hands playing around with them while the other hides your breasts. You take another deep breath and move your leg into the tub, followed by the other; the bath is a little too hot but at least it burns away the remaining of your anxiety.

“Fuck, I made it in. Alone. On the first day.” You mumble excitedly while you try to make a little wall in front you with the bubbles in the bath. “This is huge, Katsuki. I might be able to be a hero again.” You don’t even realize you started crying in the middle of your sentence until Katsuki mumbles “fuck” under his nose and makes his way to sit on the side of the bathtub with you. He leans in to put your foreheads together and takes a deep breath; the action makes you blush like a teenage schoolgirl, way too aware of the fact that you are laying in a massive bathtub, naked.

“I told you, you are a fucking tank. You’ll kick your weakness in the ass and come back twice as strong. I fucking knew it. Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

There are butterflies everywhere now; in your chest, in your tummy, in your heart, right in the middle; Katsuki’s natural scent fits so perfectly with the scent of the bubble bath, sweet but spicy; you are rendered utterly speechless when Katsuki moves away just so he can look into your eyes, his gaze deep and so-so fond it makes your stomach squirm. You swear your heart explodes under the pressure and puts itself back together at the same time when Katsuki leans back in to leave an agonizingly slow and deep kiss on your lips while he pushes his shirt up and pulls it through his head in one swift move, not even giving you enough time to understand the situation before he barges back in for another one. He still fiddles with something but you are too content to let your mind wander about what the heck is happening; in the next few seconds, something heavy plops into the bath tub, right next to you. You open your eyes and your breath hitches; Katsuki is in his underwear, his legs already in the water, slowly moving towards your other side until he sits down right next to you, skin touching skin when he snakes his arms around your middle. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a few chaste kisses there, his body tense and anxious but he doesn’t give in to the tension; he takes a deep breath and tries to relax, but he’s clearly not as chill about this as he tries to make it look like.

“I heard that having a bath together helps people who struggle with the whole intimacy thing. I thought I might try it. Should have asked first though.” He mutters into your neck apologetically.

“You don’t need to ask.” You answer with a heavy blush. “Can I put my arm behind you? Is that okay?”

Katsuki squirms for a second but he takes another deep breath to relax himself.

“Yeah. I think I’m ready.” He says and you can’t help but giggle at that.

“Katsuki, you make it sound like I’m asking you to let me pinch your nipples! You are doing okay. You are okay. You can also say no. It’s fine.”

Katsuki’s face contorts into a frown and you start to get a bit anxious about his behavior; maybe this was a bit too much for him, maybe you should just ask him to leave and have a breather… he’s done so well already there is no reason to push himself.

“Can I.. clean you up instead? I want to wash your back. I think.” He mutters shyly. Bakugou Katsuki is being shy. Oh damn, what did you do to deserve this shit?! You nod silently, not wanting to ruin the intimate mood; Katsuki takes a brand new bottle of shower gel in his hand which has his own logo on the front and pours some into a shower puff. “I made this deal with this cool natural cosmetic shop from England. They wanted to do a collab with the top 10 heroes. This is the first prototype.” He mutters under his nose and slowly leans forward with the puff in his hands. “Deku made a bath bomb and the shower gel, they smell like pine and something sweet. It’s quite weird but whatever. Todoroki couldn’t decide what scent to go for so he has two shower gels, one peppermint and one spicy one. The spicy one is really nice.”

You are not sure if you are supposed to say anything or not; it seems like Katsuki is mostly muttering to himself, probably trying to calm down by filling the silence with random words so the situation doesn’t feel that intimate. Katsuki is struggling but the more he moves the puff around, the more content he gets. He stops abruptly when he gets to your breasts; he stops right where the skin starts to bounce and stays there, frozen. Instead of words, you decide to give him consent with an action; your hand comes up to cover his, slowly moving his hands around your chest while you leave tiny kisses on his shoulders to reassure him.

“I… well… My shower gel…” Katsuki stutters, his eyes big as saucers. If this wouldn’t be so hard for him you would definitely make a virgin joke. “Do you remember when you said you like the smell of my pillow?” Katsuki’s hand moves down to your belly.

“Yeah.” You sigh, trying your best not to get too excited from his touches. It’s not going well.

“I told them I want my shower gel to smell like my sweat. It sounds disgusting now that I said it out loud but I wanted to make it… for you… but whatever. It’s not important. Just… fuck off, don’t look at me like that!” Katsuki moves away with a grumpy pout on his face.

Needless to say, you are five seconds away from crying.

“When… when did you start working on this?” You ask, voice wavering. You won’t cry. You will fucking push through this without a single tear drop. You can do this.

“Six… months ago.” Katsuki’s face is the color of Midoriya’s sneakers and so are his ears. You make a tiny little squeaky noise. “Yes, months before we actually… became a thing, shut the fuck up now and gimme your legs.”

“Fucking marry me, Katsuki. Right now.”

Katsuki can make explosions under water. In case you wondered. They also die right away for obvious reasons and something bubbles up to the surface, so it ends up looking like he just farted underwater. It’s quite hilarious.

“We need to live together for at least a few months before we marry to make sure we can share a space without killing each each other.” Katsuki says like he’s reading it from the news paper. He grabs your leg under the water and yanks it up aggressively; you yelp and laugh at the same time when he rubs your skin with the same aggression; finally, Katsuki feels more like himself.

“Did you Google that before?” You giggle as he swaps your legs over. Katsuki only grunts, his cute little ears on fire.

“Fuck off. You look really nice from this point of view by the way.” Katsuki gives you the biggest shit eating grin when his words finally sink in; he clearly enjoys your misery as his grin grows bigger and bigger as he crawls over you, his hands on the rim of the bath tub.

This might be a really inappropriate thought when you can’t even move your arms properly but Bakugou Katsuki is the definition of sexiness as the water drips down on his abs, the droplets cold on your shoulders when they plop on your skin. Hell, you wouldn’t even think twice about pushing him back into the water and crawl all l over him if you wouldn’t be in this condition.

Hm, maybe this water needs to be cooled down a bit. It’s way too hot in here.

You do your best to move your arm and touch his sides at least; you crave the feeling of him, you crave it so much it actually hurts but maybe that’s just the fatigue; your hand finds the hem of his underwear at his back and you decide to try your luck; you slowly pull down the fabric, making sure you don’t touch anything too inappropriate and keep an eye contact the whole time. Katsuki’s eyes darken for a moment, his chest rigid and unmoving as though he forgot how to breathe; he bites his lips and takes another deep breath, his body slowly moving away from you to sit back to his original place. Okay, that was too much. Roger that. Let’s take a deep breath; you definitely need it.

If you thought Katsuki can’t surprise you any more, well… you were wrong; he removes his underwear under the water in one swift move, and throws it on the floor.

“You happy now?” He moves towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the lips, then another, and another.

“Are you?” You retort, genuinely confused by the sudden change in Katsuki’s behavior. Is he really okay with this? Are you okay with this?! Why does it feel so natural? Alright, it definitely does not feel natural as your heart is about to explode and run away to Narnia through Katsuki’s bathroom cupboard but…

“I think I like sharing a bath with you. I want to do this every fucking day.” Katsuki grins. He looks so happy and content in this position, cuddling into you from the side… you feel the urge to tangle your legs together but you try your best not to act on that urge; there is no way you can avoid touching his private parts in that position.

Not like you would mind…

Oh damn.

You need to take another deep breath then drink a lot of water when you get out. You seem to be a bit thirsty.

“Okay, let me wash myself and let’s get out before I combust.” Katsuki grumbles as he pours a bunch of shower gel on the puff again.

“Can I not help?” You pout at the blonde.

“Maybe tomorrow.” He WINKS and finishes as quick as it’s humanly possible while you gawk at him with mouth half open.

Yes. This man will certainly be the death of you.

… next chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Sorry for the long wait, I swear I’m trying 😭 My new work schedule is kicking me in the ass. Hopefully, I’ll get used to it eventually, I’m already making some progress!

- I hope you liked this chapter, I had this idea in my head for ages and I couldn’t wait to finally write it down! I love this version of Katsuki so much.

Likes, comments and reblogs are more than appreciated! Send me your thoughts about the chapter in the comments 💜💥

TL:

@sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x self insert #bakugo x you #shenanigansbypurplepotato #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #soft bakugou #pro hero dynamight x reader #dynamight x reader #dynamight

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nap-thym3 · 5 days ago

Text

I’ll Eat You Whole

Bob Velseb/Reader | Ch: 1, First Encounter

• Word Count: 5,217 •

When a scare-actor comes across the real-deal, you barely manage to escape by the skin of your teeth. However, in the aftermath of your encounter, you’re left with more questions than answers.

Who was he? Why didn’t he kill you when he had the chance? And why was he kinda…

Anyways. Now caught in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse, you have to quickly figure out what role you play. Will you survive? Or will you be swallowed whole?

Wild cackles spill from your throat, disjointed and borderline hysterical. A giant chainsaw roars to life in your hands, the bloodied business-end a warning. The constant vibrations from the motor making your very bones feel tingly and near numb with pins and needles.

The blood coursing through your veins feels electric, super-charged in a way that you only ever feel when you’re giving chase.

For all intents and purposes, you were dressed to kill.

Ahead, a group of teenagers shriek for their lives, pushing and shoving at each other in a desperate mad scrawl to escape.

Giggling dementedly, you cheekily taunt the pair. Some cheesy one-liner that you’ve already used maybe thirty times tonight.

In response, the blond, shaggy haired boy unkindly shoves at his friend, looking honestly a little pale. God, you hoped he wouldn’t vomit. The last thing you needed was for this kid to puke in your section.

“Damn it— move Craig, move! They’re coming right this way!”

Craig, you’re assuming, laughs mischievously. Arms and legs spread out wide and hooked onto the exit’s doorframe like a human barricade. Effectively blocking his friend from passing through, reveling in the panicked shouts and desperate pleas to move.

“Chill! They’re not even that scary!” Craig manages between full-bellied chuckles.

You cluck your tongue, bouncing from foot to foot impatiently. You had a strict schedule, and didn’t really have the time to play a game of chicken with these two before the next group passed through.

Panting, you try to subtly rub your face against your shoulder, sweat-slicked baby-hair clung uncomfortably to your clammy skin. Slowly, as to not alert the oblivious pair as they squabbled, you crept forward. Quietly making your way over, inch by inch, until you were only a meager three steps away.

“Fuck you Craig! I swear to god, if you don’t move in the next five seconds, I’m gonna—“

Reaching down, you cut the power to your chainsaw. The pair, still oblivious and too caught up in their back and forth, fail to notice the abrupt silence.

Before anymore grating arguing can spill, your reach out, gently reaching over the blonde’s shoulder and gently poking the troublemaker with your index.

The pair, having momentarily forgotten all about you, whip their heads around. The action is done so quickly, you’re half surprised they hadn’t snapped their necks. Their eyes were wide and terrified as they watched with bated breath. You offer nothing but a playful little finger wag; deceptively casual, before lunging forward and delivering a scream so fried, most metal-heads would’ve applauded.

You barely have enough time to clear your throat before the teens are tripping over one another, a messy pile of limbs as they half-crawl on all fours. Before then remembering that, yes, they did indeed have legs. And that yes, they should probably use those.

Man, you loved Halloween.

Hours later, and the haunted house’s endless waves of shrieking crotch-goblins and thrill-seeking teens had finally slowed to a light trickle. Granted, it wasn’t all that surprising. With it being the busiest night of the year, after all. The attraction had been at near full capacity all night, guests squashed together like canned sardines with seemingly no end in sight.

It wasn’t until just a little after midnight when the non-stop traffic of people had finally slowed to a trickle, that you realized just how loud it had been. The abrupt quiet left only the looping audio of groaning ghouls playing from outdated speakers hidden in dark corners. You’d honestly forgotten there was any background ambience to begin with, when all you could hear for eight long and grueling hours was the screams of the horrified.

God, you were so glad you had the foresight to bring a bottle of Tylenol with you.

With little more fanfare, the annual haunt had officially closed for the year. The end of the final shift was marked with exhausted high-fives, sighs of relief, and more than a few of your coworkers tearing off sticky prosthetics like their skin had been itching something fierce for hours.

Quickly, actors were dispersing and heading home for a well-earned night’s rest. But not you.

No, you’d gone and volunteered for one last task: the final sweep.

It was your favorite part of the job. Wandering through the darkened maze of the building, making sure no drunk idiots had keeled over and passed out in a coffin or gotten stuck between the walls of the mirror maze. Occasionally, you’d even find a late-night straggler who thought it’d be the bee’s knees to hide and loiter around until everyone left. Those ones were the best. Scaring the hell out of someone who thought they were smarter than the rest? Totally oblivious that they weren’t alone, and wouldn’t have the last laugh?

Better than any therapy session. Free, too.

Tonight felt different, though. The air seemed heavier in the aftermath of the long season, as if the building itself was holding its breath. But maybe that was just your imagination. It was all too easy for these dark corridors to play on your anxiety.

Shaking it off, you adjusted your grip on the prop chainsaw you carried, the dull heft of it a grounding weight. Despite the fact that it wasn’t real, it still gave you an illusion of safety.

As you tiredly shambled your way through the maze of halls, fantasizing about your plush mattress waiting for you back at home, you trod into a room chalk-full of fog. The familiar, smokey scent a pleasant balm over your pulsing migraine. Someone must’ve forgot to turn off the fog-machines, you figure. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to blame them for wanting to go home as soon as possible after tonight.

Turning a corner, you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes hone in on a distant shape.

Ahead, barely visible in the foggy gloom, was the hulking silhouette of a person.

Your heart gave a little leap of excitement. A straggler, ripe for the spooking!

Grinning, you bend your knees into a half-crouch, keeping close to the wall as you quietly crept forward. The flickering lights overhead did little to illuminate the figure, but you didn’t need to see much. You knew this maze like the back of your hand and could strut these halls blindfolded. No dumb teens stood a chance against you.

Close enough now to start feeling the ramping rush of adrenaline, you gave the chainsaw in your hands a few hard tugs. It sputters. Once, twice, before roaring to life on the third pull. The sound of the faux engine roaring to life bounces against the walls of the narrow hall, creating a cacophony throughout the desolate space.

The figure, hunched over something on the ground— please don’t be vomit, please don’t be vomit— straightened slowly. And kept straightening up, reaching a towering height all the while remaining completely unbothered by your approach.

Well. That wasn’t the reaction you’d been expecting. Usually, this was the point in time where people screamed, turned tail, and ran. Or at the very least flinched in surprise.

Real or not, people had a tendency to allow fear to overtake their rationality. It was hard not to, when somebody was chasing you, swinging around a chainsaw in an enclosed space. There was little time to think, just scream and run. Which was great for you.

Annoyed, you take several menacing steps closer, brandishing your chainsaw and revving the engine promisingly. It typically made even the most jaded customer uneasy. But the figure didn’t even react. Was this guy deaf?

“Alright, tough guy,” you muttered under your breath, squinting to get a better look at them.

Through the flickering lighting, you could just make out a worn, burgundy turtleneck and a matching devil mask to boot. Pointed horns perched atop their crown, casting jagged shadows across the walls. In one hand, they held a cleaver—large, wickedly sharp, and dripping with what looked unmistakably like blood. Thick, dark rivulets of it that clung to the blade and fell in slow, pattering drops onto the floor.

Oh. So maybe not a guest.

Sighing with slight disappointment, the muscles in your legs that’d been tensed in preparation to give chase slackened.

“Nice getup,” you called out over the rev of the chainsaw, lowering it slightly before cutting the power off altogether in order to be heard more clearly.

“Sorry— thought you were a guest. Y’know, we closed like… Half an hour ago, right? You can go home.”

The figure tilted their head, confused maybe, before turning towards you fully. Behind them, something was sprawled across the floor—a crumpled, unrecognizable heap in a pool of blackened liquid.

You squinted, trying to make sense of the shape. Some kind of prop, probably. From your vantage you could just make out bone-white, jutting ribs blooming from the gorey mass. Indescribable lumps spill from the open cavity, glistening in the low-light. Most likely meant to look like exposed guts.

Your stomach roils unpleasantly at the sight. That was some pretty convincing stuff. Not typically what you saw in here, considering this haunt advertised itself as nothing too intense— for the younger audience.

Your attention is redirected, when the stranger shuffles closer.

“Didja know,” they spoke— tone baritone and unmistakably male, with a honeyed southern drawl, “human meat tastes most similarly like pork?”

You shuffle in place awkwardly as the man completely ignores your previous words. Your brain buffers, struggling to formulate the right words. Quickly, you decide to go with the tried and true method when dealing with odd social encounters. Polite enthusiasm.

A nervous laugh bubbles up in your throat, forced and strained.

“That’s… uh, great trivia,” you stammered, looking around, confused. Why was he insisting on dragging out the bit? It was just the two of you. Right? “Um. You really don’t have to keep acting though. Like I said before, we’re done for the night, so…”

You trail off as the man took another lumbering step closer, his boots squelching in the messy viscera underfoot.

You stepped back instinctively at his unhurried advance, your gaze darting between the cleaver in his fist and the mangled body behind him. It wasn’t real, right? It certainly didn’t feel real.

Yet all the while something kept nagging persistently in the back of your skull, your gut telling you something was deeply wrong here.

Why don’t you remember this guy? Surely you would’ve seen him at least once in passing if he worked here? Yet try as you may to recollect your scrambled thoughts, you can’t for the life of you recall.

Faintly, you heard the ‘whoosh’ing of the overhead fan as it was powered to life. One of you had tripped the motion trigger, a practical effect meant to disorient you. Bombard your senses and overwhelm the intended target for a better scare— or something along those lines. The finer details escaped you in this moment.

It was only as a fresh burst of circulated air wafted in your direction, that the smell hit you. You were expecting something mildly sweet. Like liquid corn-starch and colored food-dye.

The scent that assaults you instead, is anything but. Coppery and acrid, like licking a battery.

This was real. Like, really real.

It hits abruptly, and it hits you hard. The chainsaw in your hands suddenly felt too light, too useless. You took a half-step backwards, swallowing hard as a cold dread crept up your spine.

The pounding war-drum of your pulse roared in your ears as panic began to set in. “Okay,” you said, your voice thin and wispy.

You swallow again, clearing the cotton-dry feeling in your mouth and try injecting some authority back into your tone. You don’t think you quite hit the mark. “Okay. Uh, You’re— You’re not supposed to be here, man.”

The stranger says nothing. Just smiles and stalks forward, cleaver raised and poised to slash.

Alarm bells blare in your head as you backpedal, frantically twisting to turn back the way you came.

He lunged.

You barely had any time to throw the chainsaw up between you as the cleaver arced through the air. A resounding ‘crack’ rippled through the air as steel met cheap plastic, the force of the swing knocking the prop straight out of your hands. As it clattered to the floor, useless, you only had one thought.

You were so screwed.

You scramble to keep your balance and maintain a sliver of distance as the man advanced, his movements slow but deliberate. Like a cat batting around a mouse.

In one sudden move, he swung again, forcing you to dodge with a wild stumble to the side. The motion sent you skidding on the slick floor, your shoes struggling to find traction on the grimy surface smeared with blood.

Turning your head to the side, you just now notice the man’s sweater-clad arm brushing against your cheek— caging you in.

He’d missed— No, that’s not right. You’d dodged.

The giant cleaver was stubbornly embedded into the wall beside you, right where your head had been not even a second previously. And it was stuck.

With a panicked noise, you duck under his right arm. Narrowly escaping him as his left hand had just barely brushed against the back of your costume.

“Shit!” you hissed, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. The acidic stench of gore clawed at the back your nostrils— it’s real, it’s real!—, threatening to gag you as you struggled to wrangle your limbs into cooperation and go.

Behind you, you catch the sound of the man grunting as he ripped his weapon of choice out of the wall. Quickly followed by his deliberate steps behind you, steady and unhurried. Completely sure of himself.

It only served to spur you into a clumsy, mad sprint.

The maze of hallways felt suffocatingly narrow, the walls pressing in on you with every corner you turned. Your mind scrambled for an escape route, or-or a familiar face, for anything at all that could give you an edge. But the layout, once so familiar, now felt like a disorienting trap.

Behind you, the man’s steps falter, the sound echoing faintly in the cavernous space.

You turned your head, just a cursory glance over your shoulder to gage his distance, but that split-second look had cost you.

Your foot hit something—a stray, thick cable for some electronic or another. Your balance vanished, and you went down— hard. Your palms shot out before yourself, slapping the cold and sticky floor. Pain shot up your wrists as they took the brunt of the impact, but it barely registered in your panic-addled brain.

The heavy thud of boots snapped your attention back to your aggressor, and you looked up to see him closing the distance. The cleaver raised high, winking promisingly in the stage-light.

Feral and desperate, you crawled back on your elbows. No other thought in your brain except to get away.

Another step forward, and his foot caught on the same cord that had betrayed you. His confident stride faltered, his boot sliding out from under him.

It would’ve been a comical sight in literally any other circumstance.

As he stumbled forward with a startled grunt, his massive frame pitched off-balance as he wildly swung his arms outwards in a desperate search for purchase.

It wasn’t much of an opening, but a split second decision needed to be made.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you surprise yourself.

Instead of taking the opportunity to keep running, like literally any other sane person would do in your situation, you’d leapt. Right on-top of your attacker.

Your arm whips out and catch’s his neck, capturing him in a headlock. Or it would’ve, if the damn guy wasn’t built like a fucking rottweiler.

The man lets out a noise between a half-aborted chuckle and cough at the unexpected restriction. Large hands scrabbling for purchase against your forearm, nails raking angry red lines across your skin. You curse at the slight sting, yet remain firmly saddled to his broad back, legs firmly locked at his sides. Even as he wildly thrashes, you hold on with all your might�� like you would on a bucking bull at the carnival. Knowing you’d be facing pain far worse than a few scratches if you failed, you swing your other arm around, firmly clasping your hand against your opposing wrist and pulling it taut as hard as you could. The muscles in your arms burn at the prolonged stretch, but no matter how much it aches and feels like your arm could pop out of its socket at any moment, you hold firm.

“Feisty lil’ treat, ain’t’cha?” The mysterious man manages through a gasping grunt, meaty digits wriggling between the space of your arm and his reddening neck.

White-hot anger sears at the forefront of your mind. Just who the hell did he think he was? You did the scares and crappy one-liners around here, bitch.

With a snarl against the nape of his neck, his onyx hair tickling your nose, you act on impulse.

Before anymore teases or taunts can be made in that southern drawl you’re quickly coming to despise, you bare your teeth and bite down at the exposed clammy flesh just peeking above the burgundy sweater smattered with someone else’s blood.

Your attacker gasps, stumbling backwards as he vainly attempts to reach behind himself and dislodge you. All the while you clamp down harder, teeth aching with the force not meant for your blunt pearly-whites.

The acrid, metal tang of iron bleeds onto your tongue— a bitter taste that you’re thankfully not subjected to for long as the mountain of a man loses his footing once again. The wires looping around his ankle in the struggle. Sending him stumbling backward one, two, three paces before his back harshly met the wall.

Ergo, you as well.

The abrupt force of the entirety of the man’s weight hitting you like a freight train, pinning you against the wall, is already bad enough. What makes the shitty situation even worse, is that your aggressor wastes no time in taking your momentary shock and striking.

Lighting quick, you don’t even have time to shout or attempt rolling away as an elbow jabs into your diaphragm with startling accuracy.

The response is instantaneous, as the muscle in your chest seizes— momentarily paralyzed.

You crumple inwards, leaning against the grimy wall for support as you gasp and heave for air. All the while uselessly clutching at the collar of your shirt, struggling and fighting for oxygen that your lungs are seemingly incapable of drawing in at this moment.

Faintly, out of the corner of your eye, you recognize the stranger as he stalks forward. Knife clutched in an angry, white-knuckled fist.

As you’re kneeling hunched on the floor, breathing in harsh pants— but breathing, nonetheless— your eyes dip downwards. Catching the slim portion of skin peeking just above the collar of his stained turtleneck, nearly as red as the devil mask he dons as a result of the damage you’ve wrought.

‘Bites and strangulation’s a good look on him.’ You think to yourself deliriously, as a toothy, blood-soaked grin tears proudly across your face.

The man, taking notice of your face smeared with his own blood, cocks his head to the side. Considering.

Defiantly, you jut your chin upwards. Wordless in your challenge but a challenge nonetheless.

Devil-guy chuckles at your show of bravado, his own smile hitching impossibly higher, the pinks of his gums winking at you.

With a thudding step, and another, he shambles towards you. Stalking. Slow and steady, completely unbothered. He’s got you backed into a corner now and he knows it. Wants you to know it, too.

Feeling hopeless, you can do little more than press yourself flush against the wall. With nowhere else to go, and sufficiently crowded by this guy, you brace for impact.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel the heavy, damp breath fanning over your sweat-slicked face as he leans over you. Even without your eyes open, you can feel the lofty weight of his unabashed staring. Despite this, you resist the urge to kick or swing. You already knew it was futile, and anymore resistance would surely be met with a swift rebuttal.

The moment stretches on, a long silence filled with nothing but your intermingling pants occupying the cramped space. Faintly, you hear the looping audio of the haunted-house’s ambient audio. Previously, you’d already had a strong dislike for the downright cheesy moans and groans of the supposed supernatural, interspersed with distant howling. However, in this moment, you despise nothing more. As for the umpteenth time, a distant shriek pierces the quiet. It feels mocking, somehow.

Something warm and wet drips onto your cheek, rolling down your flushed face. Goose flesh erupts along your shoulders as you nearly jump out of your skin at the unexpected sensation. Thankfully however, you do nothing more than flinch, before cautiously peering through squinted eyelids.

Above you, your attacker openly drools. Spittle forming and accumulating along his bottom lip, before trailing down his chin. All while his wobbly pupils minutely shift, raptured and ravenously watching every micro expression flitting across your face.

Nervously, you gulp. Before reflexively wetting your own lips in a practiced, anxious habit. It’s not until you taste copper that you remember you still have flakey, dried blood staining your maw. Gross.

The man above, however, has clearly different opinions as he erupts into a full-bodied shiver. The tips of his ears flushing a bright pink.

Okay. Noted.

He lingers, eyes eagerly raving over the dried streak of blood on your lips with unnerving intensity. You squirm, uncomfortable and feeling like a pinned frog, ripe for dissection. Something feral flits across his expression as you wriggle, a startling hunger, before he raises a hand to wipe the drool from his chin with the back of his sleeve.

“Look at’cha,” he mutters, his voice low, husky. There’s a disconcerting undercurrent of amusement beneath the words, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you. “Wild as a bearcat. ‘Love it when they got a bit of fight in ‘em.”

He squats down to your level, his massive frame moving with surprising grace. You’re keenly aware of just how little space exists between you, his knees nearly brushing yours as his free hand, fingers wide and blunt, presses firmly to the wall beside your head. A cage. One he doesn’t intend to let you squirrel through this time.

Seeming content to just stare at you for the moment, cleaver still clutched in his other hand and catching slivers of light. Angling it lazily, almost conversationally, near your face.

At your clear terror, he withdraws. You relax— at least, as much as you’re able to in this guy’s presence—, a shaky exhale leaving you as he does so.

It doesn’t last long though, of course. As you’re once again tensing up all over again, breath hitching as he raises it to his own mouth instead, the flat of the blade skimming his lips. He slurps at the excess there, his tongue then darting out to lave over the steel, before finally pulling it away. His smile widens, and he makes a soft sound, thoughtful. Like he was out taste-testing cheese and not savoring the blood of the innocent.

“You—” your voice cracks, chest aching, lungs still struggling to catch up. You cough and try again, forcing as much venom as you can muster into your words. “You’re sick.”

“And yer stupid,” he counters quickly, his grin unwavering, a flash of teeth that gleam wetly in the pale light. “But I don’t reckon that’s news to either of us.”

A tense moment of silence passes.

“Ya bite hard,” he muses, disrupting the momentary quiet. As though that’s a normal thing to compliment. Is it a compliment? “Bet’cha I bite harder, though.”

The words sink in slowly, and your stomach twists, blood flushing up your neck. Something in your expression—your attempt to recoil while still pressed helplessly to the wall—delights him further. Like you’re tethered together by a string, he follows your pitiful attempt for personal-space. Never letting you forget for even a moment how helpless you really were.

“Ya weren’t s’pposed to be here, treat.” His free hand lifts from the wall, fingers brushing against the sweat-slicked edge of your jaw. The touch is light, deceptively gentle. However, it’s ruined by how his hands feel like a loaded gun against your skin. Knowing that at any moment, he could snuff you out.

He drags his thumb down your jaw, just barely grazing the space between your lip and chin. The blade stays in his other hand, ominously idle but never forgotten.

You jerk your head to the side with a sharp inhale, dislodging his touch, and finally manage to spit out a weak, “Don’t.” You didn’t even really know what you were refusing. The nickname? Touch? Your inevitable demise? Maybe all of the above.

He chuckles fondly—a deep, guttural sound that reverberates in your chest, too close, too intimate. “Sure thing. Treat.”

Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms hard enough to leave stinging crescents in their wake. “What do you want?” you snap, the edge of your voice sharper now despite the wobble. You’re desperate to gain back some sense of control, some foothold in this surreal nightmare.

His grin softens, just slightly, into something more contemplative. “Want?” he repeats, as though tasting the word on his tongue. “Don’t’cha see, darlin’? I already got what I want.” He leans in even closer, his forehead almost brushing yours.

The words hang in the air like a death sentence. Your stomach flip-flops, dread curling tight in your abdomen as his hands wander again, finally transferring off and away from you.

His proximity feels suffocating, but despite every rational instinct screaming at you to do something—anything—you find yourself frozen. Not just in fear, but in something else. Something other than self-preservation.

He’s terrifying, sure. But there’s something about the way he looks at you, a wild fascination that unsettles you to your very core, yet holds you immovably still. That kind of obsessive attention fixated solely on you, like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. You’ve never had someone look at you that way before. It was frighteningly addictive.

“Ya feel that, don’t’cha?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper, almost conspiratorial. “Yer lil’ heart, pounding away? That’s a once ‘n a lifetime feelin’, treat.”

Yeah, because he fucking kills them right after.

“I could kill ya right now, y’know,” he says it so casually, as though he read your mind. His grip on the knife shifts, and he raises it just enough for you to catch a glimpse of that glinting steel once again. “Wouldn’t even be hard. Like squishin’ a baby bird.”

Your nose scrunches, but you refuse to buckle and give him the reaction he’s clearly fishing for. “Then why don’t you? Hurry up and get it over with, prick.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t get the chance to, actually. As a scream echoes down the hall, back the way you came. Sounds like somebody found the body. Er- what was left of it, anyhow.

However, your would-be killer doesn’t even deign to spare a glance in that direction. Instead, he grunts, irritated at being interrupted. Eyes drinking you in , as if committing you to memory.

For a split second, you fear that he isn’t going to move. Quickly, knowing time was running out, you open your mouth. Wether it was to shout or maybe offer some snarky quip, you’ll never know.

Because with the strength of a kicking mule, he shoves you, cutting you off before you could make a sound.

A winded ‘oof’ is punched out of your abused lungs, balefully watching as he rises from his haunches and finally tearing those near-black irises away from you.

And just like that, he’s gone. The weight of his presence lifts as he stands to his full height, towering over you for just a moment longer before turning on his heel. His boots thud against the slick floor as he saunters off, leaving you trembling in the silence. Nothing but the sound of voices down the hall, panicked and steadily growing closer. Something about calling the cops.

Your breath comes in short, ragged bursts as you stare after his retreating silhouette, equal parts relief and confusion flooding your senses.

You get the distinct feeling this isn’t over.

Going home is a complicated ordeal. After your manager found you, you’d been a little shell-shocked, to say the least.

And utterly exhausted.

You didn’t really know the haunt-manager that well. It seemed like a different organizer every year, and to be honest, you weren’t all too keen on getting to know them anyway. They seemed nice enough, though.

“—And-! Where’s your car? Don’t tell me you walked here!” She frets, hands coming up to grasp you by the shoulders, before thinking better of it last minute.

“I’m fine.” You grouse, idly thumbing your sternum that still aches. That’s going to be one nasty bruise, you’re sure.

In the distance, you can just make out the red and blue lights strobing down the streets. You really didn’t want to deal with that headache right now. You were never a fan of cops, having your own complicated history with them that you weren’t really interested in reminiscing on.

“Look, Ms-“ you pause, just realizing you’ve forgotten her name already. With an awkward cough, hoping she didn’t catch on, you continue “it’s been a real long and shitty night and I really just want to go home. I’m leaving.” Stiffly, you turn on your heel. Robotically marching down the steps and towards the sidewalk. You weren’t typically a very tactful person on a good day. So if you were a little more terse than you intended, you don’t think you could be held entirely at fault. Tonight had been overwhelming.

“Wait- No, you can’t just walk away! Someone died tonight, there’ll be questions-and-and-“

You pause in your tracks, aggravatingly, she was right. No matter how much you just wanted to go home and forget about tonight, you could potentially get into a heap of trouble for just walking out. Afterall, it’d probably look awfully suspicious of you to try slinking off after a murder.

A murder. It didn’t feel real, hearing that someone really did die tonight, and that it wasn’t some hysteria-induced hallucination.

You should’ve been dead too.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable. Deciding to save yourself the future migraine, you fish out your trusty bottle of Tylenol. Swallowing two pills dry.

The haunt-organizer looks a little on edge, despite her insistence that you came back. Dragging your feet back up the steps, you notice her slightly backpedal from your immediate vicinity. You suppose you can’t really blame her. What with you still dressed in uniform, ratty hair, and features smeared with patchy face-paint. You must look pretty ratchet right now.

With a long, suffering sigh, you fall back onto your rump. Leg bouncing anxiously.

Well, it’s not like tonight could get any worse.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed. I got bit by the Bob-Velseb-Bug after playing Tender Lovin’ Cannibal. So this was born :,)

Also-Also, I will not be posting future chapters to this Tumblr, so if you’d like to read more please consider checking out my Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60694933

#bob velseb #spooky month #Bob Velseb x Reader #fanfiction #tender lovin cannibal

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