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snackhobi · 4 years ago

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pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.

but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.

or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.

warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex

a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?

Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.

He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.

You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.

Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.

You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.

(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)

However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.

“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.

Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan.

“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)

“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.

“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”

You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.

Jesus Christ.

“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.

“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”

Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.

You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.

And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.

“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”

The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?

That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)

“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”

The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.

You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)

“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.

You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.

“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.

“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”

That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.

“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”

For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.

Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?

Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?

You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.

(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)

The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’

The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.

… Anyway.

You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.

Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.

“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”

“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?”

Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.

“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.

(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)

You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.

“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”

At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.

“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.

The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.

“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement.

“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”

You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.

You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble.

You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”

Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”

Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.

By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”

You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.

You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised.

Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.

“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.

The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.

“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”

When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”

Your luck doesn’t last.

“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”

You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”

Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.

“What do you think sounds best?”

“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”

“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”

“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”

Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.

Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”

“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.

“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”

Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.

He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.

“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”

Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.

“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”

“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”

“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.

When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”

You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.

“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”

“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”

You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.

“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”

“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”

“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”

“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.

There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.

You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.

The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.

The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.

Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.

You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.

Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.

He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.

“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”

He just shakes his head.

“Okay,” you say.

(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)

The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.

“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”

Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.

“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.

He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless.

(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)

So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.

“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”

Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?

You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.

“Taehyung?”

“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in.

“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)

His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”

Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.

But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.

The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.

Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?

(You’re going to die.)

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.

And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.

It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.

(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)

Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.

… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.

… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.

You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.

“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.

Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.

In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.

(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)

“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”

Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.

You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”

(It’s not cool.)

You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.

At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.

But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.

“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.

It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.

You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.

Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.

“Better?”

Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.

“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”

You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.

Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.

(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.

Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—

Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.

(What is he doing?)

But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.

They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.

“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.

His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.

“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.

He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”

“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.

Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”

You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—

Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.

“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”

He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”

It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.

“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”

You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.

“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?”

(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)

(But.)

(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)

“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”

He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.

“Taehyung.” Almost pleading.

“Yes, love?”

You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it.

(You’re not.)

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.

Before you can think, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—

His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.

“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”

“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.

“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.

Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.

You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.

“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”

“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.

“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”

You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.

“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”

Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.

You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.

Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.

“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”

“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.”

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.

When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.

“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.

“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.

“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”

Of course you want to.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”

He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it.

(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)

You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.

(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)

You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.

“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.

“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.

He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.

“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”

Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm.

“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.

Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.

“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.

And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—

—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.

“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”

He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”

“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.

There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.

“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”

“You got edible massage oil from your course?”

Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”

You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh.

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.

“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.

That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”

“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”

“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”

It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.

When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.

“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”

His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.

“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed.

“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.

Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.

“You really are perfect,” he says.

“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.

He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.

Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.

There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.

You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.

“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”

“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”

His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.

“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”

A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.

“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”

“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.

Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.

“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”

It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.

(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)

When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.

Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.

“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”

“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”

When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—

The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.

You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.

One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.

“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”

Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”

“Here?”

He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.

(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)

He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.

You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.

“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”

“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”

And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.

And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.

Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.

“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”

And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.

He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.

You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you.

When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.

“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—

“Oh, fuck—”

—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.

When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.

(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)

You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

You pause.

“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…”

You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”

“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”

You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”

There’s a pause. “Really?”

When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.

You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”

When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”

“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”

“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”

You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.

Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”

Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.

(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)

When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, angel?”

You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”

Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.

“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”

“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”

And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.

(“Hey, Pickles.”

The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”

Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”

Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.

“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.

“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”

Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#magicshopnet #btswritingcafe #taehyung smut #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x reader #bts #bts smut #v smut #v oneshot #v x reader #taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts oneshot #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

Slytherin!Muggleborn X Draco Extensive Dating Headcanons

requested by the ever lovely @mimsyisgianna

A/n: Hi, this is super long and I’m in love with it.

oh this is going to be fun

As a muggle born you have absolutely no idea what’s going on

But you guess magic is cool? And your parents said that you don’t have to stay at Hogwarts if you’d rather a muggle school and forget all of the magic stuff

Which quells your anxiety a bit

Then there’s this asshole

Draco Lucius Malfoy: arrogant asshole extraordinaire, even as an eleven year old

You’re over his entire personality in about 0.2 seconds and you haven’t even talked to him yet

So maybe this magic thing wasn’t for you, because good god these purebloods are awful

Then you’re in the same House as Draco and you really just want to go home, but you decide you can try it for a semester and you shouldn’t let some prissy rich boy ruin your fun

Because, well magic is a lot of fun--and you’re pretty good at it

There are a few other half-bloods and muggle born in Slytherin, not many, but enough that you don’t feel alone

And maybe you become best friends with a muggle born hufflepuff who lives up the road from you back home

Draco, on the other hand, has made it his personal mission to make sure that you know you don’t belong at Hogwarts and you definitely don’t belong in Slytherin

he tells you as much. in so many words. in front of the entire great hall

You’re not hurt, you’re livid

“You know what you’re right!” You snap back, “I’d rather be anywhere but here with your vain racist arrogant ass!”

The entire Hall goes quiet and Snape breaks the two of you up

Now you both have detention together on Saturday

Draco yells something about his father hearing about this and you roll your eyes and go back to your dorm, dinner forgotten

Detention with Snape could be worse. All you’re doing it organizing potions ingredients onto the shelves

“That doesn’t go there,” You point to the misplaced vial of newt. “Yes it does,” Draco snaps, “Don’t tell me what to do little mudblood,”

“Don’t call me mudblood, asshole. Newt goes over there,” You point to a different shelf. “With the rest of the reptile related ingredients,”

You and Draco stare each other down, both convinced you’re right. You scoff and go back to your own ingredients letting him be wrong. It didn’t matter to you.

Draco would never admit that you were right. But you were.

You smirk at him when Snape points out the mistake

Since you’re Slytherin, it’s unavoidable that sometimes Draco is your partner in class

You mostly ignore him and try to focus on the professor, but sometimes he gets under your skin and you just want to deck him in his perfect face

“That’s not how...” “Good lord Draco how are you still alive...” Draco that’s not what the professor said...” “What in the world are you doing?” “I don’t think that’s how...” “He said 1354CE not 1435CE,”

“I don’t need a mudblood telling me what to do,” He always snaps.

“What about a Slytherin?” You fire back. He never has an answer to that.

It’s the end of first year and late one night after exams and you’re alone in the Common Room, staring at the murky lake water outside the stained glass, well almost alone.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him the first time he speaks to you

“Oi, Y/n,” He calls. It was the first time he ever used your name. It caught your attention.

“I’m not really in the mood,” You hug your knees barely glancing at him. “I’m sure Hermione is somewhere in a library if you want a mudblood to taunt.”

“I’m here as a Slytherin actually,” He leans against the wall adjacent to the window seat. “How were exams?”

You shrug. “Fine. I guess.” Sighing you rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. “Mom thinks I should go back home... go to a normal--muggle,” You mend, “school, and give up all this magic stuff,”

“What?” He demands. “Why would you do something so... so stupid?”

This time you do look at him, confused. Sure, he had called you a lot of things and mocked you more times than you could count but they had always been about your blood status, never about you inkling to leave this magical world.

“It’s not stupid!” You argue back. “How--all year you’ve given me hell for not belonging and now that I might actually want to go, you’re telling me no!?”

You don’t let him say a word, instead you rush down the hall and to your room, slamming the door shut and locking the door, confusing your roommate, but she sees the tears in your eyes and decides not to question it.

Draco sort of hates himself for making you cry, but he can’t quite figure out why. He can’t figure out why the thought of you leaving for good bothered him so much. His friends couldn’t figure out why he cared so much. And neither could he.

You’re not at the End Of Year feast, nor on the train back to King’s Cross, and Draco gets really worried that you have left for good.

The more he thinks about it over the summer, the more he thinks that you weren’t so bad for a mudblood. And maybe sometimes you were actually brilliant. And maybe you’re the only one who can see right through him and yet you still help him when you can even though he’s stubborn about it. And maybe you did belong in the Wizarding world with him.

But he had to go and screw all of that up.

He does a double take when he sees you September 1st with a few other Slytherins on the Hogwarts Express.

“You came back,” He blurts out. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Malfoy,” You grin at him.

You still snap at each other but now it’s more of an inside joke rather than malicious. It’s a game that you both like playing.

“Happy now Y/l/n,” Draco grumbles after you correct him in front of the entire class. “Ever so more, now that you’re put off Malfoy,” You laugh.

Boy does Draco freak out when he hears that mudb-muggle borns are the target when the chamber of secrets is opened

Now he’s constantly worried about you and still doesn’t know why. He chalks it up to “you’re a slytherin and slytherins take care of their own,”

Not that he cares about any other slytherin muggle born, just you

Not that he admits that to himself either

So maybe he stalks you a bit in second year. You notice but shrug it off. Draco’s weird, that wasn’t new info to you.

This year you go to Quidditch games, one because Draco mentioned he was the new Seeker, and two... well, why not?

You go to one, then swear them off. Good lord they’re dangerous and give you unnecessary anxiety. Especially the amount of times people get hurt. Magic or not, you didn’t want to watch that.

After the first match that Draco sees you there, he always looks for you in the crowd again, but never sees you. It throws off his focus more than he cared to admit

he liked showing off to you okay?

He finds you in the common room after one victory, enjoying the party with your friends. You wave at him and after a while congratulate him on catching the snitch. It’s blushing and awkward but then Pansy comes and draws Draco’s attention and you can barely get out goodbye

The fact that you’re a muggleborn hardly bothers him anymore. You’re just... you.

After one particularly aggravating quidditch match you find him afterwards, sulking in the library.

“Draco?” You ask, confusion in your voice.

“Go away,” He grumbles, more or less hiding behind his book.

“I heard about what happened today...”

“And you’ve come to mock me, brilliant,”

“No,” you offer a smile. “Though the thought is appealing... I was wondering if you were okay,”

“I’m fine,” He snaps, taken aback that you came to check on him. No one did that. Ever.

The summer still gives him anxiety because there’s always the possibility that you won’t come back to Hogwarts the next year. And Draco can’t have that

But his fears are put to rest when your in his train compartment that next year (you have the same friends after all--and Slytherins stick together)

You notice that Draco’s wearing his hair a bit different this year and maybe he’s a bit taller...

and you have no idea what feeling is in your chest because of it. was it nervousness? No... was different... but what was it?

You shrug mentally and the game is on again with Draco.

“I was going to insult you but it seems like you’re doing just fine on your own,” You grin and Draco is livid. And it makes you laugh. He’s just so cute when he’s mad.

“I can see that you’re failing at attempting to mock me Y/l/n,” Draco smirks. “Oh you’re completely right,” You smile innocently, and Draco’s eyes widen because did you just say he was right?. “I’m not attempting, I’m succeeding at mocking you.” You giggle and make a face at him before heading down the hall with your friends.

and maybe Draco’s heart skips a beat

Animosity between the Gryffindors and Slytherin is real and even though you’re a muggle born the self righteous golden children don’t seem to care

Hi Dracos protective of you

“You don’t have to defend me. I’m just fine on my own,” you huff one day after class. “Slytherin take care of their own,” Draco shrugs and walks off.

Did Draco just call you a Slytherin genuinely? Did he just call you one of his own?? What the f—

Okay but Buckbeak terrifies you?? Like sure horses you could do but this??

Draco laughs at your apprehension before he realizes what you really are terrified and ducking behind him and the other Slytherin.

Hagrid picks you to come forward and greet Buckbeak and you can’t seem to get out the words “no thank you”

Draco, being over dramatic and now protective goes forward instead (you know the scene) and despite your fear of Buckbeak you’re scolding Draco that he’s going to get hurt if he doesn’t do it properly

Then he does get hurt

“It’s killed me!” He cries and you have to laugh, crouching down beside him.

“You’re fine drama queen,” you help him up and take him to Pomfrey. “Thanks,” you whisper as his arm is getting wrapped.

“Sure, I save you from a bloody chicken and all I get is a thanks?” He grumbles.

You rest your hand on his and your eyes meet.

“Thank you,” you say softly and boy does Draco melt on the spot

He still scoffs and plays it off. “Whatever,”

The same thing happens again with the boggarts but this time the roles are switched. Draco is terrified to go up but you’re pretty brave and reckless for a Slytherin

But holy heck does this backfire

Because your Boggart is Draco...

“You don’t belong here and you never will! You filthy little mudblood! Just go home and don’t come back! No one wants you here!”

You can’t manage the spell—because honestly you didn’t expect it to be that—and Lupin has to rescue you and you rush out of the room, tears in your eyes and everyone is just staring at Draco.

As you can imagine, things get pretty bad. Draco avoids and ignores you to the best of his ability because he had no idea how scared you were of him... sure maybe a little bit... but to be your greatest fear? It didn’t sit well with him.

And you figure out pretty quick why that was your boggart but you don’t know if you can admit it to anyone.

Until Lupin pulls you aside after class one day to ask if you’re okay and if Malfoy is giving you any trouble about being a muggleborn.

“I can give him detention,” Lupin offers. “Maybe it’ll straighten him out.”

“Stars, no!” You gasp. “Professor, please, Draco’s never...” You can’t exactly say he’s never said that, because he did, in first year. “It’s not for the reason you think, but Draco really... it’s not...” You don’t know how to explain without telling Lupin the entire thing.

“Alright,” Lupin appeases. “But if you have any trouble with anyone, you come to me you understand?”

You nod and leave, accidentally running into Draco in the hall. He barely looks at you before rushing off again.

“Draco, wait!” You call. “Please,”

Apprehensively he pauses and turns to face you. He waits for there to be fear in your eyes, but all he can see is desperation and sadness.

“I thought you were afraid of me,” He meant it as a snarky reply, but it comes out broken.

“No,” You shake your head. Biting your lip you decide to tell him why he’s your boggart. “You’re... you’re the only one I... I trust enough to believe... if you told me I didn’t belong... It only scares me if it comes from you,”

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with that!?” He demands.

You shrug, sighing thinking about the same. “I don’t know... I’m sorry Draco,” You turn and walk down the hall.

It’s gone from bad to worse because not the awkward tension between you two is tangible and about every Slytherin is over it. So are most of the other students but they don’t have to live with you two.

Draco barely sleeps at night. He’s just thinking about how he actually said that to you in first year and how you still held onto his words. He never meant for them to hurt you that badly. At least now he didn’t mean it.

Then there was the matter of what you had explained to him. That he was the only one who could hurt you with those words. Because you trust him? Why the hell would you trust him? Why was it him of all people?

Maybe his thoughts shifted to the panic in your eyes the day with Buckbeak, or the smile when you helped him off the ground, or the gentle kindness in your eyes when you thanked him in the infirmary.

Or maybe it was the determination in your eyes when you volunteered yourself to face the boggart so he didn’t have to.

Or maybe it was every taunt and tease that had you both smiling and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Every name calling, every insult.

Maybe it was the day he saw you at King’s Cross, telling him that he couldn’t get rid of you that easily and grinning at him like it was some sort of inside joke.

Or maybe it was the soft apology you gave him for the mess you were in.

You didn’t really talk for the rest of the year, but the tension seemed to ease after Draco’s epiphany that night. You smile at him and he waves to you in the halls... it’s nice. It’s friends.

Draco still thinks that this is finally the year that you don’t come back to Hogwarts and it really does crush him over the summer not being able to ask you or contact you at all. The disconnect between wizard and muggle was very irritating because he just wanted to talk to you.

His fears are again quelled when you’re on the Hogwarts Express. He sits with you this year.

Fourth year means the Durmstrang students are being hosted by the Slytherins and more than one has their eye on you and you just feel creeped out

Hi, Draco is jealous

Now he was your partner in every class, and constantly beside you in the halls, glaring down whichever guy dares to come near you.

Not that you notice. Again, Draco was weird. It wasn’t news to you. Besides he’s cute when he’s grumpy

Until one day you’re irritable and Draco just happens to be the person closest to you when you’re pushed over the limit.

“I don’t need you to protect me okay! I can handle guys just fine on my own thank you! God what is with you Draco!?” You scream at him during study hall and storm off. Against his better judgement, he gets up and follows you.

He finds you in the library leaning against a bookshelf in the back, your eyes closed.

“Go away Malfoy,” You sigh.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Because I know you,” You look over at him. “I��m sorry I yelled at you,”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel...” He looks down. “I... You’re...” He turns a slight shade of pink and trails off.

“It’s alright,” You offer a smile. “It’s actually kinda sweet,”

Now you’re both blushing.

You go to the first task together with the rest of the slytherins and Draco can barely watch the task because he’s watching your face light up at the sight of dragons, because your little muggle self has never seen a dragon before and it’s amusing and cute

Then Draco asks you to the Yule Ball for before any of the imbeciles from Durmstrang can in front of the entire Great Hall.

“Malfoy’s got himself a muggleborn girlfriend!” It’s some Gryffindor mocking you

You turn bright red and run off, finding yourself in the Forbidden Forest hiding behind a tree. You’re crying because you’re embarrassed and you’re mad that you’ve even crying, which makes you cry more.

You hear his voice calling your name and you pray to whatever god existed that Draco wouldn’t find you or see you cry.

He does find you.

“Go away Draco,” You beg, hiding your face in your hands.

“Now where have I heard that before?” He teases softly. A silence falls again.

“You never answered me,” His voice is soft and gentle. “Do you want to go to the Ball with me?”

You dare to look at him, confused as hell. He sitting beside you, staring at the grass and tree roots beneath you.

“Do you really mean that? Don’t give me that look. I know you don’t exactly hate my existence, and things are different... but asking me to the ball? I...” Shaking your head you rub your face.

“I can’t blame you for questioning my motives, though a part of me thought... maybe hoped you wouldn’t, but I really do mean it. I know I was an ass to you in the beginning, and sometimes I still am, and I’m sorry for that. I really am trying.” He nervous and rambling and you know it. “But I really do want to take you to the ball, because you’re kind, and sweet, and a brilliant slytherin and an amazing witch-”

He’s cut off because you pulled his tie and pressed your lips to his.

of course it’s awkward and weird because you’re kissing him and... he’s kissing you back?

You pull away, thoroughly confused, and you start to apologize, but he’s not having that, so with a bit more elegance, he pulls you in for another kiss.

This one is softer and slower and it gives you both time to figure out what kissing is now that it’s a thing you’re actually doing.

“Will you please go to the Ball with me?” He asks again, when the perfect kiss is ended. You nod and smiling giving him a “yes,”

“And maybe go out with me?”

You grin. “Whatever you want Malfoy,”

maybe he kisses you again

You to eventually head back inside, hand in hand and all of the Slytherins sigh in relief because finally

You’re a nervous wreck because all you can hear is “Malfoy’s got himself a muggleborn girlfriend,” on repeat and you can’t help but feel wrong

“You’re thinking about it again,” Draco raises an eyebrow at you.

“And you’re not?” You challenge. “It feels... wrong. How could a pureblood, a Malfoy no less, choose a muggleborn, a mudblood,”

“Don’t you ever,” Draco gets dangerous with cold fury. “Don’t you ever call yourself that. You hear me?” He’s towering over you, his grey eyes trained on yours. “You are a Slytherin,” He cups your face, his demeanor softening, “You are a brilliant witch. Pureblood or not, you’re mine. You hear me?”

You nod, and he wraps you into a hug, sighing. “I’m so sorry,” He whispers.

Your dress for the Ball is a bit more muggle than wizard, and you’re nervous about what the others in your house will say, but all of the worry goes away when Draco stares at you, turning pink and stumbling over his words

Not that you’re faring much better, because good lord is he gorgeous

It’s awkward and weird to be officially dating, but soon you fall back into your familiar game but now it’s harmless banter and lowkey flirting

Because Draco is protective and jealous of the Durmstrang blokes gaping at you maybe he’s okay with holding you closer than strictly necessary, or kissing you in a way that not completely polite in the company of others.

You roll your eyes at his antics, but allow it because you don’t like the way a few girls are staring at Draco.

Boy is Draco a goner when you get jealous and just as protective. He’s a stammering blushing mess if he can even make a word out at all

At the moment, Draco’s parents don’t know about you--partly for your safety partly because neither you nor Draco are ready for that battle

Draco and you spend free nights acclimating each other with wizard or muggle culture. Some nights are fun and carefree, some not so much...

Draco gives you a very strict rundown of the looming war and the threat of the Dark Lord and how very serious it is and how easily you can (and will) be killed for simply existing under Voldemort’s regime

Maybe once Draco agreed with his father that muggles shouldn’t exist and muggle born wizards were preposterous, but now? How could he look at you, your family, who welcomed him with open arms, and say that? How could anyone believe that?

He says “I love you” first. It’s an accident but you’re studying kne night and your eyes light up—like they always do when you learn something magic related—and it just slips out.

You gawk at him for a bit. Draco turns bright red and stares down at the books in front of you trying to play it off.

“I... I love you too,” you finally get out.

His eyes flash back to yours and your homework is forgotten and you’re in your own little bubble of a world in the epiphany that you love each other

“Of course I love you Draco,” there are tears in your eyes as he pulls you into his arms and now you’re both crying and kissing and mumbling “I love you”s

This summer, now that Voldemort is back, Draco goes about insane thinking about you, sending you owls almost daily to make sure that you were alright as well as hiding you from his parents

Except his mother finds out. Well, more like she knows her son and can see that he’s changed and casually asks “who is she?”

It’s a quiet conversation held behind closed doors and silencing charms. Draco explains who you are to him, and what you mean to him and now Narcissa is on your side, to be your protector from his father and the Dark Lord

I can throw Snape in there too right? Cuz he’s your head house as well as being close to the Malfoy’s and sees how much you mean to Draco. Yeah, sure, why not?

It’s harder for you as a Slytherin because no one outside of your house sees what kind of danger you’re truly in because they don’t want to take the time.

But you’re still fericely protective of the younger Slytherins who still get berated despite being eleven with no choice of a house

You and Draco as prefects?? Hello?? The CUTEST thing because you’re now the honorary parents of Slytherin younger years. And Draco seeing you take care of the first years does something weird and paternal to him. It’s the same for you.

Which means you might go toe to toe with Harry a few times because once after a quitting match when you’re waiting for Draco he says “how can you be with someone like him? You’re a muggle born. He’s a Malfoy, you don’t exactly belong,”

Cue you hexing Harry for saying that. Then Draco coming between you two. You explaining what Harry said and then Draco turns on Harry and then it becomes a muggle brawl and you have to drag Draco away from it before you get in trouble. By the end Harry has clearly got the message that yes you do belong, and no it’s never up for debate again

You both have detention again. But that’s fine, it’s just uninterrupted time you can spend with Draco and get some homework done

You are 100% over Umbridge and her rules. Especially when she gets between you and Draco with her eight inch rule but then again you’re slytherin and she seems to favor your house so she’s not as strict, especially with Draco as her golden boy

You don’t join the Inquisitional Squad, but you still look after your own house as a unofficial prefect as Draco works as part of the squad.

With the news of Draco’s father in jail, you comfort him that night, not leaving his side. He feels so conflicted because on the one hand it’s his father but on the other hand you’re safer with him locked away

Draco loathes that you leave him in the summer to go back home but he agrees it’s safer for you to be back in the muggle world. Until Voldemort starts to attack your muggle world and dementors hover over your town.

Draco writes to you, begging you to come and stay with him where it’s safer and you can use magic to defend yourself but you refuse because you won’t abandon your family

Draco takes the Dark Mark to keep you safe and to keep his facade up.

But he doesn’t tell you. Not for a long while. You know something is up because Draco looks like the embodiment of death but he won’t tell you why.

“Draco,” you confront him one night as you sit and watch the stars. “Please?” You don’t even have to ask the explicit question. There are tears in your eyes as you plead with him silently.

“I can’t,” he whispers hugging his knees, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Draco it’s me,” you lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just me. Whatever it is... I’ll always love you,”

“How can you... how can you love me when I became the one thing who’s truly meant to hate you?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you cup his face softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Do you love me?” Then mend. “Forget what you are... or what I am... or what should be. Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me,”

“I... I love you,” he gasps out, pulling you close. “Merlin of course I love you,” he’s sobbing into your arms and you hold him, letting him cry in peace and comfort.

You two sit in the quiet for a while, both lost in aimless thought.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says pulling away from you. “I’m so sorry,” he tugs up his shirt sleeve and you see the Dark Mark etched into his skin

“Draco,” your eyebrows furrow, your hand running over the mark. “Are you okay?”

“Why is that your first thought?” He laughs hopelessly, cupping your face delicately. “You never cease to amaze me,”

“Now what?” You ask softly after some time in silence. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t think anyone knows,” he admits. “It all became so complicated,”

You chuckle. “Oh the days when our biggest problem was my blood status,” you rest your head on his shoulder, tucked into his arms.

“I mean that’s still a relevant problem,” Draco points out, pulling you in tighter. “I don’t want to lose you. Not because of some stupid notion that pure bloods are better than muggle born,”

You smile at that and close your eyes, relaxing in his arms. “Did it hurt?” You asked after a while. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” there’s still pain in his voice.

You’ve become more protective of Draco now and he of you. It might go back to the core that Slytherins look out for their own, or maybe it was because your to loved another. All of the Slytherins seem to stick together lately.

In an attempt to protect Draco, Harry’s sectumsempra hits you instead

And stars above Draco would have killed Harry if he wasn’t so focused on keeping you alive until Snape arrived

Draco has the dark mark and you had dark magic scars all over your skin. That was a hard one to explain to your parents

If anything your scars make you more confident and self assured because they show the true nature of the precious “chosen one” and you’re not keen on letting Harry forget it from tank tops to shorts and skirts, you boldly show off your scars

Of course Draco takes his sweet and gentle time praising and adoring all of your scars. It leaves the ghost of his lips on your skin for days on end until he does it again

In all honesty you and Draco are a force to be reckoned with, both scarred by a war that hasn’t truly begun.

You’re beside Draco when he’s face to face with a dying Dumbledore. You’re gripping his other hand, a snarled look on your face because you saw his manipulative nature for what it was

Though you couldn’t bare to think of killing another, you didn’t stop Snape from doing the final action

You and Draco fled with the rest of the Death Eaters, both running into the Forbidden Forest before apparating away.

You share a desperate kiss at the Manor behind his locked bedroom door before you have to apparate back home, safe from Voldemort and his other Death Eaters

Now that both you and Draco can apparate legally, you have rendezvous points that you meet during the summer for a few hours a week. Sometimes it’s sunny afternoons in the countryside, sometimes it’s desperate nights in lavish hotels, sometimes it’s lazy mornings in comfortable beds

Seventh Year is hellish. On the one hand it’s great for the Slytherins, on the other hand it’s terrible for muggle borns. You escape a lot of the torture because of being with Draco but you can barely stomach watching it happen to others... especially first years.

“This is wrong Dray,” you whisper one night. “I... I can’t keep pretending like it’s okay. They’re just kids,” there are tears in your eyes.

It’s the first night that the room of requirement opens its doors to you letting you in on the renegade camp. Almost everyone is baffled to see you there.

“So...” Neville starts. “Yeah,” you nod looking around at all of the battered and bruised faces. Your heart breaks a little more.

You use whatever magic and muggle skills you have to help the younger years get patched up and feel safe again, soon becoming a co-leader along side Neville and Ginny.

The fact that you’re a Slytherin gets left at the door.

In fact after a while the room itself gets rid of all of the house banners and just becomes a communal space

You tell Draco where you are and what’s going on but despite how hard he tries, he can’t get into the room

Until one night, the night after Luna is kidnapped and he’s made to torture her, does he become desperate enough that the room opens for him and offers him a safe haven from the war as well

Boy was everyone shocked to see Draco stumble through the doors on the verge of tears.

Wordlessly you stand and go to him, wrapping him into a hug and pulling him to your cot, again letting him break down in peace and comfort

Soon more and more Slytherins start to trickle into the renegade room.

You move your parents far away from England and London while the war is happening with help from Narcissa and Draco

The day comes and the battle of Hogwarts arrives and the Slytherins stand with Hogwarts, knowing that family doesn’t start or end with blood.

You and Draco lead the Slytherins into battle against the Death Eaters with a furious vengeance

No one budged when Voldemort offered to reconcile after Harry was pronounced dead. You and Draco shared one last loving look and prepared to face death together

But then Voldemort is gone

You almost collapse in relief into Draco’s arms and he sinks to the floor unsure of the world himself.

Many lives are lost and many are wounded. You both go around healing and helping where you can, never far from the other

You break down crying when you see Lupin dead before you and Draco holds you tightly shedding a few tears of his own

You and Draco are both acquitted in the trials because most of Hogwarts comes to your defense in testamonies.

Your story makes headlines a few years later....

“Pureblood Ex-Death Eater Malfoy Proposes to Rebel Muggleborn Sweetheart”

It’s not happily ever after just yet, but maybe it’s a step in the right direction

masterlist

ko-fi

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moxfirefly · 4 years ago

Note

Hey dude! Loving the tmnt stories! 💚Could I request #8 with raph? "I can make you feel better than that pathetic toy" 😈

*wiggles eyebrows* oh boy

Yes, let’s get thiiiiiis

TW of sorts: Consentual vouyerism

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Night time would always be his favorite.

They are nocturnal creatures by demand. Walking around daylight just isn’t an option and for Raphael he doesn’t care. Longing for acceptance took a back seat a long time ago, around the time that you entered his life. All the acceptance he needed was right here, in the shape of you.

Schedules though? Well having a relationship with a human proved tricky in the sense of time structures and human necessities. You have a job, you need to sustain a living and well he beats people up for a living and has a curfew regardless of being in his mid twenties.

But the two of you have your ways. Tricky albeit but still always delightful and fun.

Which is why Raphael finds himself perched on the roof opposite your building, with a fantastic view of your window that led to the bed area. Good paying human job meant, good income and with that you had quite the luxury loft, with some very large windows.

Raph smirked, his phone showed him the time and around now as the sun fully set and the cover of darkness was on his side, he knew you would be home soon. Right on the nose you entered the apartment at 6:15pm.

He watched you dump you belongings by the door, kicking off your shoes before making your way to the kitchen area. Even from a distance his vision allowed him to make out little details he loved. You have a particular way of standing, switching your weight from hip to hip, a tendency to push away your hair with a sigh. In your most natural state, unbeknownst to his gaze you always looked beautiful.

The picture of perfection.

Your phone in your hand he saw you type something before leaving it on the kitchen counter and move towards the bathroom area (which to his dismay was much more private.)

In mear seconds his phone pins and alerts him to your message. It was your usual checking in, telling him that you were home and hoping in the shower. He types back nonetheless, all nonchalant with just the hint of cockiness you love. The sun soon disappears and Raph knows that the best parts are yet to come. You walk around in nothing but a towel, hair wet as well as skin. He swears he can smell you, just by memory that freshly washed scent of yours makes something beneath his stomach yearn.

You make a small stop by the counter to pick up the discarded phone, your smiling at his text never fails to make his ego swell. Bitting your bottom lip and answering to him as you walk towards the bed area he sees the sway in your hips, the jingle of your rear and a towel barely holding on.

Raph licks his dry lips, his phone pins again but he already knows what’s been said.

Now he can relax and enjoy himself.

You brush your wet hair, a few strands already beginning to dry. You grab a few of your basic routine essentials and start there first. Moisturizing your skin, which means dropping the towel.

And that you do. Unaware of green eyes following your every move. Each visible piece of flesh makes Raph’s soul burn, burn with a need. He watches the careful manner in which you care for your skin, touching here and there. The way you linger at his favorite spots, kneading and massaging those areas. He takes a deep breath, whe he sees you reach into the dresser and pull something out.

You make your way towards a chair close to the window, often times you’ve sat there to read but tonight, well you had other plans. It was thrilling, chalk it off to your adrenaline junkie ways but the thrill of sitting there and intimately touching yourself with nothing but skyscrapers and the night sky to accompany you always got you hotter. Mind wandering to Raphael which never seized to add even more heat, the image of his sculpted body and its roughness a turn on for you.

Once upon a time you had told him that while the two of you had been huddled together on the couch. Hands squeezing and groping various points of his body. He had been bewildered when you told him that he physically turned you on so much. For a mutant reptile that lived hidden beneath the streets it never felt like a possibility to find himself attractive. Yet here was a tiny human female praising his looks, his body and other areas he never thought he could put into the category of alluring.

In the now, Raph watches you from his spot on the ledge. The way your legs are spreading and the vibrator slowly making a trail towards your exposed womanhood. He felt that tightness, that need to drop down and release his errection from the confines of his shorts. He settled for running a hand over his clothed crotch. Each swipe making him churr and just to gut him further the toy disappeared inside of you. “Fuck, baby” He whispers to himself, eyes glued to your quivering body. “I got what ya need right here, this yer toy” He emphasizes with a grope to his tented shorts, no use in hiding it anymore.

He can see your lips moving, moans no less dripping with filth and hopefully intertwined with his name. A hand gropes at your breast before settling on you core, fingers toying with your swollen clit. Raph wants that image to play in his brain until he sees white. He craves to barge in right now but it’s not time yet, he needs to see your body shake and go rigid with release. Your hand speeds up, thrusting the toy as your other rubs at your sensitive nub. “That’s it baby, come on” He breaths hard, nostrils flaring and hand not seizing it’s rubbing on his rock hard cock hidden inside his shorts.

That familiar coil snaps inside of you, Raph’s name falling from your lips as you continue to fuck yourself through your climax. The toy does no justice to him, doesn’t hit the spots he can hit, doesn’t stretch you the way you’re used to by now. Shallow breaths and sweaty skin, just the way he likes it.

Speak of the devil, the phone rings.

Carefully you removed the toy and cast it aside to pick up the phone.

“I can make you feel better than that pathetic toy” Raph’s husky tone makes your toes curl. God, does he even comprehend the damage his voice can cause?

“How about instead of spying on me you get your big ass over here then” You bite your lip when he grunts, there’s shuffling on the other line and a sound of something heavy lands by the fire escape.

You watch him come into view, all imposing ‘6”6 of him. He grins at the display before him, he keeps the phone call going while he crouches to admire you. This was something the two of you had discussed before hand, that you were never opposed to Raph just keeping an eye on you...

That you actually liked being watched by him. The red banded brute had taken that to heart, he would be a liar if he didn’t say that he loved watching you do these types of things.

He opened the window, phone put away he got to his knees in front of you and without hesistation he dove in. Legs on his shoulders he holds you in place as his mouth works over your sensitive cunt. That skilled tongue of his made you whimper. The softness of your legs against either side of his head is one of Raph’s favorite sensations. Full on earmuffs, the tighter you squeeze the harder he felt his dick get.

It never fails to drive you nuts, to feel the air leave your body in one large in take as Raphael eats you out earnestly. Tongue flicking against your clit you caught green eyes glued to your every reaction, your hands fly to the back of his head and you push him against your folds. There’s no worry, you know he can hold his breath for a while and the pressure is exactly what you need to feel that rush hit you once more. “RA-AH!” Is all you can shout as you tremble and moan in your seat.

You feel like jelly, as if your limbs are foreign objects but you barely have to rest when Raph is standing again to his full height and gripping the back of your head. “C’mere baby girl” He growls as he shoves his shorts enough to free himself and pumps his cock vigorolously. “Open your pretty little mouth for me-fuuuuck” You lick your lips and open your mouth just as you’re told. Raph barely holds on, you’re his absolute fantasy come to life right now, sweaty and skin flushed, tits moving with every heave of your chest.

“Take it like the good girl you are-ahhh” He cums with a long grunt, each white rope hitting your open awaiting mouth while a few shots dribble down your chin towards your chest. He pumps his member till there isn’t anything left, the last of it dripping from his cock onto your thighs.

It’s a god damn mess and it’s beautiful. Raph admires your stained skin, bitting his lip when you lick the excess from your chin, scooping some of it from your chest. In your clean up you watch Raph undresses, gear and all discarded somewhere. You squeal excitedly when he lifts over his shoulder, hand smacking your rear.

“Now let’s make a mess in ya” He crosses towards the bed, ready to dunk you on it and start up this game again.

You happily oblige.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt raphael x fem reader #tmnt raphael x reader #raph tmnt #raphael tmnt #tmnt raph #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael #raphael x reader #raph x reader #ask #imherefortheforthefanart #smut prompt #ns*w #Raphael #Raph

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ballorawan740 · 3 years ago

Text

SCP Scenarios: Yandere!SCP x Evil!Reader

Requested by: @Charlie_Sharlotte

So a little bit of context here:

Yes, I've done a Yandere!SCP x Reader before, but this one has a slight twist to it as requested by the user

The reader is just an ordinary human, just like my other post (you can get quick access HERE)

The only difference being how the Yandere!SCPs would react and the reader is evil

I'll be basing this off my other post, if you see something that's rather similar, that's why

SCP 073 (Cain)

When you first met Cain, neither of you had thought of much at first and just greeted each other as usual

Then, of course, you both became really good friends

Some would even say you both were inseparable as wherever they see with of you, the other would be close by

Not long after, you both just started dating which just happened

His yandere traits would gradually come through, but since it wasn't much different to his usual self, none of you would've noticed the change

Apart from you, of course, cus this man wouldn't let you be in harm's way and if you were, he would have to be with you the whole entire time

When Cain discovers that you work for another GOI, he was shocked and tried to -forcefully- make you stay loyal to the foundation which didn't work well

You stayed loyal to the Serpent's Hand and Cain warned the other members of the foundation

Not only did you find out about the news, but you were also very much aware of Cain's yandere tendencies in which you warned your team about this

The news that you were working with the Serpent's Hand got to the O5 council to which they kept a close eye on you

However, some would even call them bluff as you had made your way through the rankings in less than a year, displaying your intelligence and 'loyalty towards the foundation

As well as this, you were able to deceive most of the staff at the foundation, so you would be the last person anyone would suspect if there were an issue between the Foundation and the Serpent's Hand

Due to the love-hate relationship between both parties, the O5 Council had announced you as the 'bridge' between both the Foundation and the Serpent's Hand if either party were in need of help, within the reason of course

As for you and Cain, you tried to distance yourself but Cain's yandere tendencies forbid from that happening

And so you stayed, thinking that you could use him as a scapegoat

SCP 076 (Abel)

Abel gets slightly physical when he's a yandere

Like hella physical to the point he'd tie you up in his box and go on full rage mode if anyone tries to help save you or even question about your whereabouts

However, since you were one of the hostile type SCPs used by the Serpent's Hand, you knew that you could use Abel's yandere traits to your advantage

Since you weren't a yandere yourself, you would more often than not, find yourself trapped in his box

But since you had the ability to summon just about anything out of thin air, just like Abel, you were able to record and complete your tasks without being disturbed

Even though Abel knew that you were a hostile SCP, he was somehow oblivious to your abilities and your secret mission in the Foundation

The O5 council were concerned and intrigued that you were willing to be trapped inside his box and when asked, you kept silent

Abel would do anything to keep you by his side which was annoying if you had something to do, but you were a master manipulator so you were able to bribe him

As for the foundation staff, you could play off as not so hostile for now type SCP unless you were provoked, so most of the time, they'd just leave you in your containment room

During one of the containment breaches, Abel discovered that you were working for another GOI and attempted to question you about this but to no avail

As for the O5 council, they were able to get some information bout you from Abel, but it didn't help very much other than the fact you worked for a GOI

Neither the O5 council nor Abel knew which group you worked for and the council debated on whether to terminate you or not

They have come up with a conclusion to not terminate you for now as you were able to stop Abel from breaching the foundation

However, they had to keep a close eye on you both due to your activities with another GOI and may manipulate Abel into assisting you

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

This adorable little yandere orange blob here is the reason why most people in the foundation would suspect you as an enemy to the foundation

As in, either trying to destroy the world, working for another GOI or both, type of way

When 999's yandere traits kick in, he'd definitely be slightly possessive when he'd jealous but no more than that

999 would most definitely be oblivious to your evil traits until he sees it for himself, just like Abel

I feel that the foundation staff also wouldn't suspect a thing since you have that pure, innocent vibe

Since you give off those vibes, you tend to get away with thingy hella easily, sometimes it would go right under the noses of the O5 council, even though you're doing it right in front of them

I have high doubts that anyone would've caught you in the act of betraying the foundation or kidnapping the SCPs

And even if they did and was absolutely certain it was you, most of the others would call them delusional

There was that one time where 999 caught you with another SCP and got hella jealous but you were able to persuade him to stop ignoring you

The second time he caught you was when you were in the middle of releasing some Keter and Euclid class SCPs but wasn't able to stop you or warn the others in time

When the doctors found out, it was too late and you were with the Choas Insurgency

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

This little sh- right here would literally threaten to kill everyone you've ever cared about right in front of you and he would do it again and again

Luckily, you were cunning and deceitful, some would even say that you come across as suave in what you're doing

And in this case, you would play along with 682 like a game and this giant MF wouldn't even know (cuz he do be thicc)

The foundation is well aware of 682 being such a yandere and it's not like they could do anything other than observe

However, what's even scarier is you being able to multitask in various fields, making you a perfect doctor/agent they have

You were also planning on releasing the SCPs just for your own gain and would even go as far as deceiving the other GOIs just for some helping hand and gathering some intel

Not only that, you have used 682 as your scapegoat many times since he was known for causing various breaches

During that time, you were able to free most SCPs with a little help and those agents would soon be declared missing or dead under mysterious circumstances

Nobody would ever suspect you since you put on such an innocent facade and portrayed yourself as just someone who did as they're told

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

As a yandere, 049 would most definitely be similar to 035 and tie you up as a punishment

Sometimes, he would even go as far as using his 'subordinates' to monitor you while you were being left alone in a room while he's doing something

Normally, 049 would avoid punishing you and would explain to you what you did wrong with a harsher tone as if to intimidate you

However, as time went by, you've learnt a lot from the doctor and was able to adapt to various situations just like him

Being an ordinary human being, you'd constantly have to avoid touching his hands with yours or if you ever remembered, you'd wear gloves in case 049 would hold yours out of nowhere

If there were any breaches, the first thing he'd do is to look for you and make sure that you're by his side constantly

Little did he know, you were the corporate behind the breach as you wanted to seek revenge on the foundation for taking your family away and killing them all

And of course, you've learnt from the best from those around you, especially 049

In your head, you planned to use 049 to your advantage like always, but instead of using him as a scapegoat, you were planning on getting him to go against the foundation's will and join you

However, a part of you also wanted to use him as a scapegoat since all he does is dote around you and be possessive af

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

This yandere right here is not only possessive but manipulative af and if you didn't know any better, you would've been wrapped around his fingers

But you did know better, so like many other 'evil people, you used this at your advantage since you know that 035 is all over you

You were amazing at seducing both men and women, but mainly guys, hand to hand combat, hacking, weapon knowledge and even cross-dressing, but you'd much rather not do that and hide in the dark (you introverted shy mf)

From time to time, you were able to make 035 leave you as you had "behaved well and should be rewarded" as 035 puts it

During that time, you'd hack into the Foundation's most secretive files and grab all the information you needed in order to achieve whatever goals you intended to finish

Not even 035 or the Foundation knows about this and if they ever catch on about the hacking incident, they wouldn't even take a second thought that it was you (since you have such a pretty face and nobody would suspect a thing, you're welcome for the compliment)

Since you were reliable, independent and trustworthy in the Foundation's eyes and you were able to adapt to 035's persona and adopt it into your work, you'd occasionally be sent to the other GOIs as an undercover spy

Little did everyone know, you used every bit of tool and would even use your position as an undercover to blackmail and even spill out the secrets of your mission just to get to where you want anyone to be

The Foundation would never have guessed your goals and would consider this incident as a slip-up and allow you to continue if you were able to keep everything under control

Not only that but they were soon informed that wherever you go, an individual or a whole team of people from the GOIs, including the Foundation's, would go missing or dead

Nobody knows why and they wouldn't even dare to question your authority since you were so high up

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You were just one of the cleaners at the Foundation which so happened to bond well with 096 despite him being a yandere

096 as a yandere wasn't as bad as the others as he'll only go into depression or possessive mode, but even then, he was still handleable (IT'S CUZ HE HAS THAT MFING FACE THAT NO MOTHER COULD LOVE)

Anyways, I doubt that 096 would have enough intelligence to gather that you're evil for quite some time, but that doesn't mean that he's completely stupid

Moreso oblivious since he wouldn't believe anyone who says that you're working for another organisation and that you're just using him

When he went back to his cell, you came to check up on him and heard him crying, so you asked what happened

He told you all the 'lies' about you working for Chaos Insurgency and you quickly dismissed that with ease, knowing that 096 will only listen to you

You had informed your captain/team leader about the Foundation catching on and they made sure that you're still 'clean' and sent a couple of others to aid you

Once everyone got a hold of your plan, 096 quickly came out and snatched you, but not before killing all the agents

Basically, he's your personal bodyguard and servant who just happens to be depressed and slightly possessive

SCP 105 (Iris)

Oh dear oh dear oh dear

Iris is beyond possessive

She'll basically tie you up for days if she wanted to and you would have to try and outwit her since she has military training

Outwitting her would be hard since she's rather intelligent too

So what you did was to listen to her for quite some time in order to buy some time for your crew to sneak in and grab whatever they need before they flee

You made sure to be extra kind and sweet to our Iris here since she somehow managed to regain access to her camera

Your team was quickly notified so they proceeded with caution

Just because you managed to fool Iris doesn't mean you could fool the Foundation

As the Foundation proceed to warn Iris, you attempted to reassure her that it's not what it looks like, but she's not stupid at all

Depending on the situation, she might tie you up for days if not weeks and let you consume the tiniest amount of food and water

However, if you somehow managed to free yourself, defend yourself if she fighting you or outwit her, you would run back to your base to never be seen again

SCP 106 (Old Man)

An old yandere like 106 would make ordinary people think he's just old, crippled and possessive as well as perhaps a sugar daddy (Sorry, not)

Anyhow, aside from him being such a yandere, he wouldn't exactly notice you being evil and all unless it's explicitly shown in front of him and even then, he wouldn't believe it

The researchers, however, did manage to catch onto your evil side as you were midway through releasing various SCPs, including 682, 939 (FREE MY PET PLS), 049 and a couple of other well known Keter and Euclid class SCPs

They tried to arrest you and take you into full custody and interrogate you with the help of 105 and you found out soon that they both had a deal

The deal was that the researchers would get as much information out of you before disposing you to 106

You took advantage of this deal and managed to send a message to your team about it just to make sure that you're protected and someone would be sent to help you

Once you've done your mission in freeing certain SCPs, you were tasked to shut down or destroy the Foundation but failed

And not only that but your team were also caught in assisting you and breaking free the SCPs and were then killed on site

Since you were caught, your team leader sent down another dispatch to kill you and retrieve all the necessary information they needed

But since you didn't tell the Foundation everything you knew, they made an agreement with you by telling them everything you knew in exchange for your safety and you obliged

You also went to 106 and made him have a deal with both you and the researchers, but knowing the old man, you're more likely going to be killed by that SCP than by your team

Dr Simon Glass

This mf softie of a yandere right here would definitely know you're up to something

I mean, he's a psychologist, so of course, he'll get inside of your head before you would even blink twice

He wouldn't call you out just yet since he doesn't know the full extent of you working under someone or if you're working for yourself and using others to your own advantage

As for you, you knew that Simon wouldn't just let you go if he ever found out on what you're plotting and nor would he help bail you out just because you asked so nicely

So to avoid this problem, you asked your fellow subordinates from Dr Wondertainment to help cover for you

The MTFs caught on that there was newly discovered SCPs on their site and were quickly ordered to exterminated, neutralise or capture them for the safety of them and the others and to conduct further research

Little did they know, it was your little stunt to just get closer to Dr Glass and to use him in your plans

After many months of studying each and every SCPs and conducting a plan for your team, the researchers finally discovered that it was you behind all the mess with the help of Simon Glass

Realising that it is too dangerous for you to be working along in the Foundation, you fled,, leaving Simon Glass all alone and wanting to keep you in his room forever

Simon demanded a search party to find you but was denied

Since you've been caught already, you sent somebody else to do the work for you

And that assistant just so happens to look just like you (totally not your evil twin or anything)

Dr Jack Bright

Jack Bright had you locked up in a chamber below the Foundation when he had discovered you being the culprit behind the recent breaches and other related incidents

You were just as vicious and deadly as most of the best agents the Foundation ever has and staying in the Foundation had just turned you insane and just as sadistic

You enjoyed causing so much chaos, leaving all the innocent, cheery memories behind and new friends and family you've made along the way was long gone

Bright wasn't stupid, he may be goofy and somewhat chaotic at times, he'd been in the Foundation for longer than anyone (he'd also be earning more than the amount of money in your bank account)

He's definitely one of the most intelligent doctors and most definitely has access to most files and holds more secrets than any seniors in the Foundation

There's no doubt that he would find out about you and lock you up in no time

Knowing you, he's very much certain that you'll wreak havoc on the Foundation within a matter of hours for no apparent reason

The other staff would deem you as an SCP but Bright dismisses that and nobody has ever heard of you since

He tortured you for hours and its no wonder why you'd become so visibly and mentally insane

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was able to somehow find a way to unlock your secrets about you working with another GOI named Church of the Broken God

And despite having to work together with a handful of times, both GOIs remain enemies, so Alto would have to keep a close eye on you

On occasions, he would blackmail you, chain you up and inflict pain on you just to get some intel off from you

However, little did he know, you've learnt from the best liars and was able to conceal the truth from him

Clef may be good at finding information on a person and threaten others, but you were able to adapt as quick as the speed of light and was manipulative just like him

Unlike the others, Clef would most definitely snitch on you, but that's no surprise since you've done just that to him with the Church of the Broken God

Moreover, Clef didn't know that you were married to someone working for the very same GOI and was shocked once he found out

The Foundation found it difficult to track you and your spouse since you're both highly trained along with the data you've gathered on the foundation staff and SCPs

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Benjamin Kodraki, another softer yandere, would have never known that you worked with the Deer College if it wasn't for his butterflies

He would give you the benefit of the doubt at first, but when you kept doing his questions and threats, he would give in and tell the O5 council

They would dismiss Kondraki at first, but once they've discovered a chain of unusual events happening at the Foundation, they knew it was much more than just a coincidence and took action

Kondraki aided them in finding you, but to no avail, except for one of your long term friends (you have friends?! what a shocker)

He had chained up your friend and they exposed your hideout spot which just so happened to be right underneath the Foundation

When he had found you, he forcefully dragged you up to his room and tied you up as you saw your friend's lifeless body beside you

You hated him because of his yandere tendencies and tried to break free

Luckily for you, the professors at the College managed to set you free, fleeing with you before Kondraki and the other members of the Foundation could do anything

Later on, Kondraki soon realised that you were in the Deer College just to gain additional knowledge and to retrieve some samples of the SCPs in the Foundation to conduct your own research and art collection

Not only that, you were exceptionally good at history and social science and Invocations and Summoning which was why you picked both subjects to study further with your creativity in the art department as your hobby

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froghatz · 3 years ago

Text

Spinner sheds and S/O wants to help

I 100% believe that spinner sheds but hides it from The League in fear that they'll be disgusted by him. So when he always feels he's about to begin shedding, he'll be less talkative and stay in his room more often.

Notes: You and Shuichi have been dating for about a year now. But you've never seen him shed his skin before. Until now that is.

You were hanging out at Shuichi's place, he was playing video games will you sat and watch from his lap. You loved these moments, plus it really helps Shuichi keep warm since he's cold blooded after all.

In the middle of his game, Shuichi starts to scratch his neck and torso. At first it was suttle and hardly noticeable. But eventually the scratching became intense, he began groaning in annoyance.

"Excuse me y/n, I need to use the bathroom." Shuichi quickly set you aside off his lap and ran off to the bathroom.

At first you thought nothing of it, since it wasn't the first time Shuichi has tossed you off his lap to use the bathroom. Since he has a bad habit of holding it in the middle of gaming. But it was taking him longer than usual, he's usually back within 5 minutes.

Its been about 30 minutes and Shuichi still hasn't returned from the bathroom, so you begin to get a little worried. You get up and start heading to the bathroom to make sure he was alright.

"Shuichi?? Shuichi?? You alright in there??" You ask as you knock on the door.

"U-uh hang on. Gimme a sec." Shuichi sounded very nervous. But before you could reply, you hear a bunch of soap bottles fall over followed by "Ow Dammit."

You panic a little and open the door. Only to see Shuichi submerged in the tub and all the bottles on the floor.

"Are you alright Shuichi, I heard you yell and-" You cut yourself off as you begin to notice flakes of skin scattered all over the bathroom floor. "Is that your skin?? Are you shedding??" Your tone was confused but mostly concerned for your gecko boyfriend.

Shuichi covers his face in embarrassment. "UGH, you probably think I'm a gross freak, don't you?!" Shuichi sounded scared. He must've though you'd leave him for his condition.

"What?? No of course not Shuichi. You're a reptile, of course you're gonna shed. I honestly would've been more surprised if you didn't shed at all." You comfort Shuichi as you kneel beside him outside the tub and run your hand over his hair.

"S-so you're not grossed out by me??" Shuichi's pulled his hands from his face to look you in the eyes. His eyes were tearing up.

"No Shuichi dear. This is a natural thing for you after all. I'm more than happy to help you with your shedding, if you'd like." You smile and give him a small peck on his snout.

"You'd really do that??...For me??" Shuichi sounded so relieved yet hesitant.

You nod your head and begin to examine his naked body. You can see bits of skin already peeling up from Shuichi soaking himself. It seemed most of it was already peeled from his chest and legs, but a lot of skin mostly remain on his back. Makes sense since he can't reach his back.

"Here, I'll help peel off the skin on you back. How does that sound??"

"Yeah, that would be really helpful actually." Shuichi leaned forward to give you better access.

You were careful you peel off as much flaked skin as you could. While Shuichi continued to take care of his torso.

After successfully peeling off all the flakes you could find, Shuichi lifts himself out the tub. Only putting on his boxers and taking you back to the room.

"Thanks a lot y/n. I've always had a hard time with my back. I'd usually just rub my back against the wall or any other rough surface." Shuichi was very very grateful for your help. He's never felt more relieved so quickly. It usually takes him about 3 days to full shed his back, which just itches all the time in the process.

"You're very welcome Shuichi. Just tell me next time this happens, okay?? I'm more than happy to help." You set yourself back on Shuichi's lap as he goes back to playing his game.

#shuichi iguchi #bnha spinner #spinner x reader #bnha x reader #mha #league of villains #headcanon #lov headcanons #bhna #spinner headcanons

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otptings · 4 years ago

Text

Flowers

☽ Requested; Yes

☽ Idol; Jungwon

☽Word Count; 3.3k+

☽ Genre; Hanahaki (lots of mentions for it) Friends to Lovers, slight Angst

☽ Warnings; Self deprecating thoughts, mentions of hanahaki disease, slight blood, lots of cringe flower metaphors

☽ Synopsis; Date night has been a monthly tradition since before Jungwon debuted in Enhypen. This is your first day out in months with Jungwon, but somethings different about this one. Is it the fact that he's an idol now, and all of your activities happen in empty establishments that have been bought out by his management, or is it your newly returning feelings for Jungwon that threatened to choke you out, causing dark violet flowers to spew out of your mouth at every interaction with him?

☽ A/n; The zoo I am describing for this is the Honolulu Zoo because that is the last one that I've been to, so if some of the animals aren't in Seoul than I apologize for that. Hope you enjoy this and sorry for taking so long on this request I had so many ideas of how to pull off the dates

You trusted Jungwon. It came easily like breathing, only a natural side effect developed effortlessly over 5 years of friendship. Days spent laughing and telling jokes, venting to each other about worries and stresses, studying for hours the night before tests. With someone as generous, and lovable as him it was easy to trust him with your life. He has also used this to his advantage, convincing you to do questionable things with a flash of his dimples. Like now, allowing him to lead you down the streets of Seoul while blindfolded. Completely at his mercy.

"Are we close? My feet are starting to hurt. We've been walking for hours." You whined as Jungwon pulled you around another corner. You've lost your sense of direction 4 turns ago, and he seemed to keep on going. "Why couldn't your manager just drive us the whole way? You had to have him stop super far from wherever you're taking me?" Jungwon just let out a laugh and gently squeezed your wrist. . His hand surrounding your wrist was comforting and grounding, a reminder that you were safe with him.

"We're almost there I promise. And if I would've done that it wouldn't have been a surprise now would it." You humphed knowing that Jungwon was stubborn when it came to things like this.

"You always do this. It's not fair, your ideas are always so much fancier than mine." Jungwon let out another laugh, and you didn't have to see him to know his expression. Eyes probably scrunched up, his dimples greeting the world as he laughed at my pain.

"It's not my fault that I love you so much. Plus I always want to do something special with you." Confusion flooded your mind while your heart skipped multiple beats at his words.

In the same sense of truth, feelings were natural too. Flowering in your chest with every sweet action he did, never wanting a reward for it just doing them because that's the kind of person he is. Packing extra food in his lunch box knowing your tendency to forget your own. Cupping your cheeks while he wiped away your tears, listening to you rant about your sorrows or broken hearts. Pulling you close to his chest afterwards, massaging the back of your head knowing how bad your headaches get after crying. Arms wrapped securely around you as he whispered calming words into your ear, a sense of security and comfort blanketing you while listening to his heart beat. Every gentle, caring and loving action made the flowers grow.

When Jungwon told you about his plan to audition for Be-Lift one part of you was selfish. You wanted him to stay, turn down the biggest opportunity of his lifetime, continue being only your Jungwon. That part was tiny however; and you squashed down those bitter feelings. You were absolutely ecstatic for him, having been the one to even push him towards the auditions. Stayed up hours at night to watch him practice, seeing his confidence grow tremendously the weeks leading to that fateful day.

When he got accepted you both celebrated the great news. His parents held a dinner in his honor, and his family sat around the table, congratulating him and his accomplishment. At first you were happy for him, overflowing with joy that your best friend had passed the biggest audition of his life. But as the day got closer you had to hide your heart break, smiling despite the tears you shed at night. Knowing that he was going to leave you soon.

The night before he left for I-Land was the hardest one, cuddling into his side while you laid in his bed. The last time in a while you would be in his room like this, only the two of you and the quiet of the night. You didn't sleep the whole night, only savoring the feeling of Jungwon holding you tightly, the last night of him being yours. Your best friend. Your first love.

Your Jungwon.

For the first time in 5 years you were apart for longer than a couple weeks. During this time the flowers started to wilt. You were grateful, ecstatic. Of course you missed Jungwon terribly, tuning in every Friday to support him. Eyes watering every time you watched him perform , pride prevailing over any negative emotions you could have as he confidently took the stage. When it was revealed he had made the debut team you had wailed, preening at your best friend's accomplishment knowing that his hard work paid off.

When Jungwon came home to visit your feelings were gone. You didn't feel the twisting in your chest when you hugged him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you both cried. Pulling away to look him in the face your heart didn't flutter at his smile, you only relished in the feeling that your best friend was back.

You thought your feelings had wilted into piles of dust and blown away. Not having seen him for months of course that'd be normal. You had thought your feelings were gone for good when you started to see him more frequently and they still hadn't returned.

You were wrong.

"Are you okay bugs?" Snapping out of your daze you realized that Jungwon was standing directly in front of you, one hand cupping your face and concern in his eyes. You nodded your head, cursing yourself for being getting so distracted.

"I'm fine bunny." His eyes scanned your face once before he leaned back, letting his hand linger.

"You know I just worry about you sometimes." Dropping his hand to his side he turned dramatically, switching the topic and gesturing at the box office in front of us. His manager was there waiting for us, underneath the gigantic sign for the zoo. "But I knew that you missed the zoo since we haven't gone in a long time. So I actually convinced management to rent it out for us for 2 hours."

Practically leaping into his arms you wrapped your arms around his neck, a huge smile spreading across your face. "Thank you thank you thank you!" Pulling away you saw his facial expression mimicking yours, dimples proudly on display and bunny teeth prominent.

"Come on, let's go." You giggled as you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the gate. After getting your wrist bands - just for the experience - you downloaded the digital map and headed into the zoo ecstatic for your day with Jungwon.

♤♠︎♤

"Come on bugs, just look at the snake." You shook your head vehemently, trying to yank your hand free. His fingers only tightened around you wrist as he attempted to convince you to look at the giant snake in the glass enclosure merely 3 feet away from where you stood.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Jungwon." You whined out his name, refusing his outrageous request.

Snakes were definitely a no for you. Especially a boa constrictor that can grow up to 13 ft long. The one they held in the exhibit was only 5 ft, but it could always become bigger. What would even need to get that big? Any animal that needs to be 5+ ft is a menace to society, and only here for evil. You'd already catered to Jungwon enough in this godforsaken reptile and amphibian section. The frogs were cute, absolutely adorable with their big glassy eyes, hanging on to the glass. Lizards weren't a big deal either, some of them over 3 ft long, lazing about their enclosure, enjoying the surprisingly warm Seoul day.

"Isn't this supposed to be a special day for me? Why would you make me see a stupid snake? They don't even have arms, that's so weird and creepy." Jungwon let out a laugh before pulling you over to him, a squeal leaving your lips as your back met his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. At the slightest display of affection you stopped fighting him, feeling the vines squeezing around your heart painfully, before he started to walk forward and you remembered where you were. Fighting for your life.

You tried to plant your feet in the ground to prevent Jungwon from forcing you to see the snake, but he only lifted your feet from the ground as you cursed the stupid Be:Lift gyms. His manager stared in amusement from the corner, his phone out to record the two of you and undoubtably show it to the rest of the members.

Another loud squeal left your mouth as Jungwon brought you right in front of the glass enclosure, the snake was sitting in the corner but slowly started moving towards the two of you, as if you had fascinated it. You turned your head, placing it in the crook of Jungwon's neck as you squeezed your eyes tight. Ignoring the fear that coursed through your body knowing that the snake was only separated by a thin layer of plexiglass.

"Bugs just look." You only shook your head, "I promise the snake won't hurt you as long as I'm here okay? You know I'll always protect you." Jungwon's soft voice cut through the fear, and you sighed knowing that you were falling into another one of his traps. You turned your head while taking a deep breath before opening your eyes, being met with the face of the snake.

With Jungwon's constant flow of reassurance in your ear you took a good look at the snake. The snake was against the glass, falling back down before slithering up again. Its eyes were wide open and almost looked like doe eyes, black and glassy as it stared at you. The scales were a pretty pastel yellow, mixed with white, resembling a banana cow. You were so distracted admiring the snake that you both jumped when his manager suggested you should get along, and walk further into the park. You felt your heart clench painfully as Jungwon stepped away from you, a blush running up his neck and spreading over his cheeks as he quickly walked to the next exhibit not bothering to wait for you.

♤♠︎♤

"I think this is the best friend date we've ever had." Jungwon spoke happily as you two walked out of the zoo gift shop, a red fox panda stuffed animal tucked safely in your arms. His treat since he refused to let you pull out your wallet and purchase it for yourself. You chose to ignore the flutter of your heart and rush of heat at the thought of this being a true date, your mind decidedly ignoring the word 'friend'. Your cheeks ached as you smiled. They've started to hurt after the amount of time spent joking and laughing while visiting the animals.

"It was. I really appreciated it. I've missed you, it's been so long since we've been able to hang out like this." Jungwon nodded in agreement, an uncharacteristically shy smile spreading across your face.

"Come on. The nights still not over, I have one more surprise for you." Jungwon tossed his arm over your shoulder as he led you to the car, excitement and surprise as you thought about what he could potentially still have planned.

Being ever the gentleman he opened the door for you, waiting until you were safely inside to close it and join you. His manager turned on the radio as he drove you two to the next destination.

"Don't tell me we're going to have to walk again? My feet are still dying from the zoo." Jungwon let out a laugh as he grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he intertwined your fingers.

"We won't have to walk too much I promise. Just sit back and relax, it shouldn't take too long to get there." You nodded your head before quickly looking out of the window, no longer able to ignore it.

The vines grew in your chest, clenching painfully around your heart, writhing and squeezing like a boa constrictor trying to capture its prey, crawling up your throat making you resist the urge to gag. Lungs filling with petals that swirled and fluttered around with every breath until there were too many, leaving no room to move around, just clumping together as breathes became sickly. Until you could no longer resist the urge to cough.

The sound of you hacking and gagging, the sight of a worried Jungwon when the first petal comes out. Dark violet petals fluttering out with every spasm of your lungs, some full flowers with stems still attacked, coated with a thin layer of maroon liquid, staining the pretty petals and tinging your pink sweater with spots of red, the bitter taste of the flowers mixing with copper. Your throat sore as the taste of bile rose alongside the rest of the petals, finally emptying your lungs. Filling the car until there was no room to hide from it, hide from your feelings. Hide from the predicament that you were in, feelings for you best friend, the rookie idol.

How could you be so stupid to believe that you could hide it? You were always so easily exposed to Jungwon. He knew you better than you knew yourself. What if he already knew and was just biding his time before he left you, the thought of your feelings disgusting him, being too much for him? He could surely find another best friend, one who wouldn't fall for him.

But could that ever happen? Someone not falling for him. It's easy to fall for his eyes, chocolate eyes that always saw right through you. That knew when you weren't feeling good and were trying to hide it. Dark unruly hair, never easily tamed but was so silky when you ran your fingers through it. Despite being called bunny he practically purred whenever you did it, causing your face to burn at the feelings that always resurfaced. Caring nature that assured he'd become the leader of his group, always wanting to care for everyone around him and make sure that they were happy.

You don't think it'd ever be possible for someone to not fall for him.

"Are you okay bugs?" You blinked realizing that the car door was open, Jungwon standing in front of you with the same concerned look that made you feel ashamed, and yet warmed.

Glancing around you realized you had imagined the coughing fit, drowning in the sea of your own emotions and being buried under a mountain of petals. It was all in your imagination, hanahaki didn't exist. How could it? If it existed you would surely be dead.

Shaking your head you waved off the question, unbuckling your seatbelt and quickly hoping out of the van.

"Of course. I'm perfectly fine, just feeling a little tired I guess. Must've gotten lost in my thoughts. Anyway, where are we?" Jungwon raised a brow at your rambling, knowing you only did it when you were nervous before choosing to ignore it and grabbing your hand again. You hoped he couldn't feel how sweaty your palms were, nerves taking over you at the realization your feelings and thoughts had run away from you again.

"Well I wanted to do something really special for you," You shook your head before cutting Jungwon off.

"The zoo was perfect Jungwon, you don't have to do anything else. Today was perfect already." Jungwon shushed you as he led you into the building, his manager staying behind. Leading you to the elevators he pressed a button before getting on, waiting for the doors to close behind the both of you before he continued to speak.

"You've supported me throughout this whole journey. Pushing me to audition when I was too nervous, and didn't think that I would make it. When I got accepted into I-Land you supported me even when I was leaving you in the middle of the school year, texted me every night to let me know that you were watching and were always rooting for me. Knowing how proud I was making you when the thought of me debuting wasn't official helped me work harder, and continue to push myself," He got cut off as the elevator dinged, signaling that you were at your floor. Jungwon pulled you off the elevator towards a set of stairs that led to a door labeled roof. Jungwon turned towards you, his face deathly serious causing you to get a lot nervous at the sudden sober move.

"Before we go out there I just wanted to tell you that I am grateful that you are in my life. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, constantly supporting me throughout everything. You are what has pushed me this far bugs, and I love you. You're my best friend and I owe you so much for constantly being there." You smiled, ignoring the pain in your chest. Of course he'd only think of you as his best friend, there's no way he'd see you as anything else.

"Of course Jungwon. You can't put it all on me, you worked hard to get to where you are. I'm proud of you because you constantly push yourself, not because you've been successful. You'll always be my Jungwon even if you wouldn't debuted with Enhypen, and I would've always been proud of you." Red dusted over Jungwon's cheeks as he smiled shyly, before opening the roof door and pushing you in front of him.

You were left speechless at the sight in front of you. Blankets laid out over the ground, picnic baskets placed in the middle to prevent the wind from blowing them away. Pastel pink flowers spread out being blown lightly by the wind but not leaving the roof. Fairy lights spread out emitting a soft golden glow barely recognizable under the setting sun. Clouds flitting over the pink, and orange sky. Adding on to the beautiful aesthetic of the set up.

What truly had your attention was the rest of his members standing around the blankets, signs being held out at arm's length. Their various expressions showed excitement, minus Niki who tried to look emotionally detached from the situation but was bouncing on his toes, practically jumping.

From tomorrow,

I'll protect you

All Day and Night

Now Lean on Me

Will you go out with me Bugs?

Hot tears pricked at your eyes, a thick lump in your throat growing. All of their expressions morphed into worry, Niki had even stopped bouncing on his toes, Heeseung glanced at Jungwon slight panic evident in his face. A loud sob left your mouth as you turned around and threw yourself onto Jungwon, tossing your arms around his neck. A nervous laugh left his mouth as he slid his around your waist, holding you almost protectively.

Jungwon pulled away from you, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks, attempting to wipe the river of tears away.

"These are happy tears right?" A weak smile spread across your lips, nodding slowly at him. Seeing his smile come back full force, dimples showing happily. Vines loosening around your heart for the first time in months, falling away as they disintegrated. Petals evaporating leaving behind only fresh air in your lungs, breathes flowing freely as you stared at Jungwon. Boba eyes staring back at you, only showing love. His thumbs stopped wiping as he leaned forward barely, glancing at your lips briefly.

"Can I kiss you?" You eagerly hummed, a soft yes being your answer.

Jungwon leaned forward, leaving space for you to back out if you were too overwhelmed. You met his lips, inciting cheers and groans from the members present, seeing their leader kissing his best friend. Your lips moved in sync, one more thing you guys did perfect together. You must admit, the taste of salt from your cheers, along with the dramatic cheers from his members did not make for the best first kiss experience. Especially for a first kiss that you had fantasized and imagined about for years.

Knowing that was only the first of many however, made it all the sweeter.

#kpopcatalog #enhypen #enhypen fluff #Jungwon enhypen #Jungwon fluff #heeseung #Kpop #Kpop fluff #Kpop fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #enhypen angst #Kpop angst

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kung-laos-hat · 4 years ago

Text

Fool

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

Warning: Contains major spoilers from Mortal Kombat 9, including quotes from the actual script. :) kinda follows the canon but also doesn’t considering this is an x reader ‼️Not Proof read yet‼️

AN: words of affirmation and acts of service love language goes brrrrr

Summary: Kung Lao is devastated that his best friend and the girl he loves get to complete in the tournament without him, so he does what any sane person does: sneaks his way onto the island and challenges Scorpion in an attempt to impress the reader :D

“We’ll be back before you know it, Lao.” (Y/n) said, placing a hand on Kung Lao’s shoulder.

He chuckled nervously and nodded, trying his best to seem at ease but the uncertainty in his eyes gave it all away. It didn’t matter how long they trained or how prepared the elder monks thought (Y/n) and Liu Kang were. (Y/n)’s attempts at comforting the young man were fruitless.

It wasn’t just that he was worried for his childhood friends’ safety. There was no denying that was definitely one of the reasons he was reluctant to see them off, but aside from that he was envious. And how could he not be? The two of them were chosen by the elder monks to represent their section in the tournament where some the greatest fighters would be present.

Sure, he always knew the elder monks would choose (Y/n). She was the perfect fighter in his eyes. (Y/n) was clever, cunning, and quick on her feet. It just made sense that she’d be the first choice.

However, that left that second slot open for debate, and the primary candidates were Liu and Lao. Now Kung Lao promised himself that no matter what the elder monks decided, he wouldn’t let that drive a wedge in his relationship with his cousin, and he’d been fairly true to his word so far. He was proud of Liu, really.

But time went on and Raiden suggested that it’d be best for Liu and (Y/n) to train together in private, allowing them to grow accustomed to each other’s moves, strengths, and weaknesses. This would come in handy if the two of them should ever find themselves in a position in which they had to fight opponents together. Of course, Liu and (Y/n) already had established a close friendship, but there was nothing wrong with a little refining.

Lao had no problem with this, that is, until the tournament grew closer, and he began to see less and less of the duo. (Y/n) in particular almost seemed to be avoiding him, but Kung Lao knew her better than to assume that was the case. Yes, Liu Kang and (Y/n) were close, but not as close as Kung Lao and (Y/n). The three of them were the best of friends since childhood, but Lao always felt like there was something special between him and (Y/n) that just wasn’t present in her relationship with Liu.

(Y/n) had her fair share of sneaking out, having midnight conversations, and causing mischief amongst the other pupils, with Liu, sure, but it was Kung Lao she always turned to when in need of comfort. Somehow (Y/n) preferred to talk about her problems with Lao, and boy did he love it when she did. It was like seeing a completely gentler, more authentic side of her.

Because of this, Lao simply noticed things about (Y/n) no one else did. He knew what made her happy, and when one night she expressed how anxious training made her, he began to go out of his way to do some of her daily chores along with his own or do little things such as make her a snack. Of course, his pride would never allow his to flat out tell her he’d be doing all of this just because.

No, it was always,

“I just happened to make too much to eat by myself.”

“Don’t look too deep into it. If I didn’t do your laundry for you, you’d probably let it lay around your room. Then you’d have nothing clean to wear and you’d start stealing my clothes.”

Soon enough, Lao’s thoughts were flooded with nothing but (Y/n), and everyday he was forced to remember that she and Liu Kang were spending more and more time together, and eventually would be sent off to potentially die. This not only rubbed salt in the wound of not being chosen, but created a new fear for the poor young man.

God, what if (Y/n)’s opponent didn’t spare her? Would Liu Kang or Raiden interject? Kung Lao knew he would. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Hell, he’d throw away his pride and get on his hands and knees to beg if it meant saving (Y/n).

Was that why Liu Kang was chosen and not him? Because he was a better match for (Y/n)? Did the elder monks think he was more capable than him than much? Or was it (Y/n) who chose Liu Kang to fight beside her?

Now here he stood before her, soaking in her presence potentially for the last time. (Y/n)’s hand lingered on his shoulder a little longer, then she signed and took both of his hands in her own.

“What is it?” She asked, looking up expectantly.

Lao blinked, “What?”

“You’ve got that look on your face. Y’know the one that screams ‘I’ve got something to say, but I’m a wuss so instead I’m going to dwell in my room immediately after you leave,’” (Y/n) teased.

Lao half smiled and pulled his arms away. “It’s nothing, I’m just worried for you two.”

(Y/n)’s face softened and she offered him a small smile. “Hey, don’t worry about me. Liu Kang’s bad temper, maybe, but I’m sure I’ll be okay out there.” She opened her arms and embraced Lao, which he quickly accepted.

“After all,” (Y/n) said pulling away slightly and flicking the tip of Kung Lao’s hat, “I trained with the best.”

“We’ve got to get going!” Liu called out from a few feet away at the enterance of the temple.

With that, she placed a small kiss on Lao’s cheek and ran off to join him and Raiden.

“You better return in one piece!” Kung Lao called out jokingly.

“If I don’t, you better build me a cooler body!” (Y/n) laughed, waving her hand over her head.

With a flash of light, the three of them were gone.

___

So far the introduction to the tournament was running smoothly. (Y/n) had managed to hold pleasant conversations with a few other competitors, including one by the name Johnny Cage. (much to Liu Kang’s distain. Apparently Johnny had accidentally disrespected Raiden and was under the impression that everyone there was just really into roleplay. But aside from being a little arrogant, (Y/n) didn’t mind him.)

(Y/n) had been selected to do a quick demonstration fight against none other than Princess Kitana, who put up a good fight but in the end didn’t stand a chance against her. While the princess laid half on the ground, (Y/n) was given the option to either finish her off or spare her. Despite (Y/n) choosing mercy, Kitana didn’t take this defeat well, but did her best to maintain her composure as the two retreated inside to tend to their wounds.

“...Why did you—,” Kitana began in a low whisper. (Y/n) turned to her and helped her hand, palm out, in front of her chest.

“You’re an excellent fighter. One with true talent, princess, believe me.” (Y/n) chuckled, “To take a life such as yours would be a waste. Don’t let one little defeat become a deterrence.”

The ghost of a smile graced Kitana’s lips. “You know, you’re a fool to be so kind to your enemies. The next time we meet might not be under such pleasant circumstances.”

(Y/n) huffed, “A fool, yes, but at the very least I’ll be remembered for it.”

———

The fighting continued on without the two girls for a while until Shang Tsung granted an intercession. (Y/n) made her way to Liu Kang’s side and nodded at him. He glanced down at her neatly bandaged hands and huffed in amusement, knowing damn well that when they returned home, his companion planned on showing off her “battle scars” to Kung Lao in an attempt to impress him. As they waited for the next match to begin, Liu Kang filled her in on what she’d missed during the Johnny Cage versus Reptile fight.

“I wish you could of been here to see it, (Y/n). I got second hand embarrassment from how arrogant he sounded.” Liu rolled his eyes.

(Y/n) stifled a giggle and covered her smile with her hand, but as she did this, she noticed one particular bodyguard’s eyes watching her intently from behind his helmet.

He was a bit of a distance away, but somehow it felt like his stare was burning through (Y/n)’s skull, and the very thought of that sent a chill down her spine. She awkwardly cleared her throat and turned to face the other direction, her fingers slightly latching onto Liu Kang’s arm defensively.

The rest of the day was nothing short of eventful. Raiden had requested that she accompanied him into the underground sections of the island, where she became acquainted with Sonya Blade and Jax, and even got to witness Sonya fight a man named Kano. Johnny Cage and Liu Kang eventually joined them, and there they established a sort of team while Raiden explained the severity of losing the tournament.

Afterwards Sonya and (Y/n) parted ways with the men and accompanied each other to their designated bedrooms, which, luckily, were located across from each other. As they walked, the two women got to know each other a little better. Sonya told (Y/n) more about how she came to meet Jax, her life in the army, and how she eventually ended up on the island. In turn, (Y/n) told her about her life with the White Lotus Society and Raiden. They went back and forth, trading silly childhood and training tales until they came across a certain mural in one of the main hallways.

(Y/n) paused in front of it and smiled fondly at the depiction of a man standing victoriously over his enemy on a great cliff or something of the sort.

She turned to Sonya and smiled excitedly. “The Great Kung Lao,” she explained, “He’s a legend back home. Truly one of the greatest fighters the White Lotus ever produced.”

She proceeded to retell the story of Kung Lao’s victories back in the day, and Sonya listened intently.

“So that’s your motive then, huh?” Sonya chuckled.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well I’ve got my mission to save Jax, Cage wants his fame... what about you? What’s your motive? Aside from the monks selecting you, that is.”

(Y/n) glanced back up at the mural, then back to Sonya. “A descendent of his— the great Kung Lao, I mean.” Suddenly (Y/n) felt incredibly shy and began to fiddle with her hands.

“Liu Kang?” Sonya tilted her head.

“No!” (Y/n) exclaimed, laughing slightly, “A friend of ours, actually.” As she spoke, her tone was laced with a certain fondness.

Sonya smiled, “A friend?”

“Yes, Miss Blade. A friend. Anyways, he helped me create all of my best moves. I hate to admit it, but I basically modeled my fighting style after what he taught me when we were kids.” (Y/n) faintly blushed and smiled to herself.

“So... that’s it then? You want to impress him?”

“I mean— I just—,” (Y/n) struggled to find words, “I mean of course that’s not all of it. Of course I’m here to protect the Earthrealm first, but...”

She glanced up at the mural once more.

“I don’t know, I want him to see how much I’ve improved recently.”

Truth be told, (Y/n) had always admired Kung Lao growing up, but it wasn’t until around their late teens or early twenties that she’d began to admire him a little more than usual. And because of that she’d begun to lose her focus around him. Sure, he had always been terribly strong, smart, and witty beyond compare, but as they grew (Y/n) began to notice how charming he was or how nice he looked without his gear on.

Or even how differently he treated her compared to everyone else.

———

The next day the fighters returned to the island’s arena. Shang Tsung and the monks took to their spots while Quan Chi stood at the foot of the throne.

Liu Kang and (Y/n) exchanged anxious glances At eachother. After the events of last night, (Y/n) could tell her friend’s nerves were a little shaken, despite how composed he seemed. She silently patted his back as a masked guard crossed his arms and moved a little closer to where they stood with Raiden.

“Kombatants! the next match will now begin!”

In a burst of flames, Scorpion teleported into the center of the arena. Everyone gasped in awe, and (Y/n) and Liu Kang shared looks of pure admiration.

“Scorpion!” Shang Tsung called out, “Specter of the Netherrealm! Resurrected by the sorcerer Quan Chi! Who among you is worthy of this challenge?”

“Where is the Lin Kuei Sub-Zero? He killed my family and clan. I will have his head!” The masked man snarled.

Without order, the mask guard standing closest to Raiden promptly walked to the center with Scorpion, discarding his mask and armor as he went.

“I accept the challenge!”

(Y/n)’s face fell. She knew that voice, and it definitely wasn’t Sub-Zero. She looked up at Liu with a worried expression, and he returned her stare with his own.

“Kung Lao?” He whispered as he turned back to the two men standing before them.

“Nevermind the Lin Kuei. Now you face a Shaolin.” He announced.

“Kung Lao, what are you doing here?” (Y/n) muttered under her breath.

The man ran two fingers over the brim of his razor sharp hat and turned his vision toward where (Y/n) stood with Raiden and Liu Kang. He pointed directly at the girl.

“(Y/n).”

Oh god.

“I dedicate my soon to be victory to you, my most prized companion.” He said firmly.

She looked around the arena at the other fighters with a mortified expression and caught Sonya and Johnny hiding their smiles under their hands.

“Please don’t do this, Kung Lao.” (Y/n) begged, sweat beginning to form on her temple from the sudden embarrassment she was feeling.

“It has to be done.” He said, assuming a fighting stance.

“All this nonesense to impress (Y/n) (L/n),” Scorpion huffed, “You will regret your impulsiveness.”

The fight commences, and although Kung Lao is a master of the Shaolin arts and a great fighter, his attempt at overpowering someone who’s spent years trapped in the Neatherrealm soon proved to be futile. (Y/n) could feel herself cringe at every severe blow Scorpion landed to Lao’s torso until he ultimately beat him into an unconscious state on the floor.

(Y/n) tore away from the crowd and rushed to Lao’s side, swiftly but gently lifting his torso onto her lap, cradling his head in her arms as his hat laid in the dirt beside them. Scorpion looked down at her, the pity in his eyes seemed almost unbearable to (Y/n).

“He is not yet a warrior. I apologize, (L/n), I did not mean to cause you embarrassment.” He nodded.

(Y/n) shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Don’t be sorry, Scorpion. There’s no bad blood between us.”

“Kung Lao!” Liu cried out shortly after as he jogged over to aid them.

He thre Kung Lao’s arm over his shoulder and housed him up, carrying him out of the arena as Lao came to. Raiden and (Y/n) followed shortly behind.

“Listen when your elders speak!” He scolded, “You could not win this fight! And lost it at the expense of both you and dear (Y/n)’s expense!��

“Master, please, that’s enough. He meant no harm.” (Y/n) defended as they entered the main hall.

Raiden sighed angrily, “Take him to the nursery and get him cleaned up.” With that, he turned back around.

———

“Are you sure you want to tend to his wounds by yourself? It’d go a lot faster with my help...” Liu Kang said as he stood in the doorway.

“It’s fine, Liu,” (Y/n) waved him off, “It’d look bad if both of us weren’t present during today’s fights.”

(Y/n) turned around and subtly motioned to Kung Lao, who was spread out on a bench, and shot Liu an expecting look that said, ‘Get out, dumbass, I want to speak with him in private.’

Liu Kang mouthed a silent ‘oh,’ in realization and nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Take care of him, and I’ll be back later to check on the two of you.”

He eagerly left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving the two together in awkward silence.

(Y/n) sighed and turned to the cabinets to retrieve a towel and bandages.

Kung Lao sat up and huffed in annoyance, “Why must the two of you talk about me as if I’m not here, (Y/n)? I’m perfectly capable of tending to myself, you don’t have to stay.”

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows together but said nothing. She continued on gathering her materials and laid them out on the counter beside them.

“Are you upset with me? Is that what this is?”

Still nothing.

“What? Do you want me to apologize? Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, (Y/n)—,”

“Why are you here, Lao!?” She interrupted sharply.

He scoffed, “Proving I’m equivalent to Liu Kang.”

(Y/n) shook her head angrily. “Why!?” She dipped her small towel in a bowl of water and squeezed it. “You don’t have to prove anything, I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t—,”

“Then help me here, Lao. Explain— Did Raiden... or the elder monks— did they say something to you?”

“That’s not it.” He glanced down.

“Did something happen? I don’t—,”

“It’s you, (Y/n). You’re the reason.” He blurted.

The room was silent again.

“Oh.”

(Y/n) slowly turned around and made her way over to Kung Lao, beckoning for him to give her his arm. She avoided his gaze as she placed the damp towel over a large gash in his shoulder.

“I’m very sorry then... Whatever I did, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.” The heartbreak in her tone was prominent.

Kung Lao sighed, “No— sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s my fault.”

(Y/n) paused, “What do you mean?”

Lao timidly placed a hand on her shoulder. (Y/n) looked up at him in confusion and scanned his face. He was giving her the same look he had on the morning she left for the tournament. The one that made it seem like he desperately wanted to say something but didn’t know how, or couldn’t muster up the courage to flat out say it.

Kung Lao groaned and burried his face in her other shoulder.

“I like you.” He mumbled, “There, I finally said it. It’s foolish, isn’t it? That I did all of this just because I wanted you to admire me back? I knew the elder monks didn’t choose me for a reason. I’m sure I couldn’t have handled the tournament, anyways—,”

“That’s not it at all!” (Y/n) cried, gingerly wrapping her arms around his torso, “It’s my fault you weren’t chosen, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t understand,” He said, looking up.

(Y/n) sighed, “It was originally supposed to be us two. At the tournament, I mean. The elders said our fighting styles complimented eachother the most out of the three of us. But then I started to slip up during training whenever you were around. I’m sorry, I thought they’d replace me with Liu Kang, but—,”

“They replaced me instead...” Kung Lao finished.

“You are no lesser of a great fighter than Liu Kang. It truly is my fault, Lao.” (Y/n) confessed.

Kung Lao blinked and was silent for a moment. “So... you were slipping up because...?” A cheeky smile slowly made its way onto his face.

(Y/n) signed and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“I like you too, you idiot monk. I always have.”

Kung Lao laughed, “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“What didn’t you tell me!?” (Y/n) argued playfully.

“What? Was doing all your chores and things not enough of a sign for you?”

“Well, clearly they weren’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so stressed over the matter.”

“Oh goodness...” Kung Lao chuckled.

They two sat there, holding each other, for a moment until (Y/n) pulled away.

“I have to finish cleaning your wounds, Lao.”

He nodded and sat up straight, removing his shirt so (Y/n) could clean the wounds on his chest.

As he looked down at her hands, gently pressing the towel to his wounds, applying the medicine where needed, and wrapping them up neatly, his eyes couldn’t help but trail over her lips. This wasn’t the first time, naturally, but know that he had confirmation that she was finally his...

He swooped down and captured her hips with his in a chaste but sweet kiss that lasted no more than a few seconds. (Y/n) stared up at him in surprise.

“Too soon?” He half laughed.

She shook her head, “Not at all.” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down for a real kiss.

Their lips locked softly once again, and the two of them could feel the sense of pure joy and excitement building up in their chests. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered closed as Kung Lao deepened the kiss. As Lao moved his lips against hers, it tasted sort of metallic from the dried blood that remained on Lao’s lips beforehand, but (Y/n) didn’t seem to mind.

When they finally pulled away, Kung Lao rested chin on top of (Y/n)’s head.

“You’re a fool, Kung Lao,” (Y/n) said endearingly.

He kissed her hair and let out a small laugh.

“For you, perhaps.”

#liu kang #mk kung lao #mk liu kang #mk raiden #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1995 #mortal kombat 2021 #kung lao x reader #mortal kombat kung lao #kung lao #mortal kombat fandom #mortal kombat fanart #mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat raiden #mortal kombat liu kang #mortal kombat 9

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

Text

Relationship Headcanons W/ Spinner

Request: What if spinner had an s/o that also had a reptile based quirk? Maybe a snake? 🐍💕 They’d still have human legs but have a snake like-tail and a forked tongue. Their bite is venomous and to top it off they have little clawed hands, they love to holds hands with him and give him lots of praise ❤️

A/N: Spinner deserves more!! Spinner rights!! I want to be a degenerate with Spinner!!

He’s still awkward around you, still apprehensive to hold your hand or to do anything remotely romantic with you. Shuichi grew to be isolated, and grew to know that there are organizations out there against the way that he looks. He knows what he looks like. He can feel the scales, feel the claws and shed himself out when his skin has grown too tight and lackluster. He knows that he isn’t the most desired and it’s awkward. He wants to be vulnerable around but finds it hard to do so. There are times where he’s resting on your lap, your hands held in his while your tail moves to wrap itself around his leg; it’s during these times that he finds the most solace he can in the life he lives.

Soon enough, he grows to be comfortable around you. You both share a similar mutation quirk and in doing so, share similar experiences that can derive from it. He’ll come to you during rather private moments with his head held down a dark hue against his snout, skin flaking and stuck around him in odd parts. In the beginning he sat with his head down as your hands worked around him, but as time went on, he started to become more animated, allowing you to touch where you could without him flinching away from you. His skin is sensitive afterwards, new and soft. He’ll lean onto you, watching as you soothe his skin, his canines digging into his tongue when you comment on how pretty his scales look- a bright green that fades around into something darker, bits on his palms that are paler and his belly so soft under your touch.

Despite how venomous you might be, it all depends on a bite or rather at least a nick. Kissing you can be a bit tricky, having to avoid from accidentally being nicked by your canines but it isn’t too difficult. He’s joked about placing marshmallows under your fangs, his thumb running gently under your canine, feeling the soft press of your tooth press into his softer skin on his palm. He’ll kiss you slowly, hands clawed around your waist leaving lines that puff up in their wake. He’s always nervous to kiss you first- whether it’s his apprehension to touch or fear of your venom- you don’t know, but he kisses you with a shaky press of his lips against yours, whimpering against your mouth before pressing himself closer to you. After his initial apprehension fades, he’s much more passionate, kissing you heavier, pulling you close and grabbing your hands, just desperate to feel you touch him.

He can get flustered easily with anything romantix in the relationship. Not used to being praised for much of anything has left him so new to it that he is unable to respond coherently with anything other than a mumbled ‘thanks’ and quick nod of his head. He’ll take each word of praise but he isn’t going to reciprocate it because at that point, his words will slur together and he’ll only be able to call you ‘pretty’ as he holds your hand. He’ll learn to be better, to sit beside you and nod his head when you call him all the things he should have heard as he grew older. Tears will prick the corner of his eyes and his face will burn as it hides in the crook of his neck. He holds you tight and during nights is when he’ll tell you how nice you are, compliments that spill from his lips and while he is no poet, he tries and means every word that he says.

He’s already quite touchy during the night but when the weather hits low degrees, he’s clinging onto you. You hold him tight, alternating between holding him and having him hold you. His scales are cold and rough when he curls against you, your tail hooked around your legs and he is buried into your chest, eyes closed and listening to your heart beat, a soft melody for him to sleep to. He holds you tight and when your hands run up and down his arms he sighs, pressing himself closer to you, desperate to feel every bit of you, every bit of your warmth and the cream that you use.

Much like a cat with a feathered toy, your gecko partner is very enamoured with your tail. He watches it constantly, often his attention drifting to it during meetings that run for far too long. He’ll watch with your tail swish, the scales glisten under the light and the tip of it going towards him. His eyes will glance towards you who holds a serious look and he wonders if the tail thinks for itself or if youre the one controlling it. No matter the reason, he holds in his hands, the thick appendage teased and with each motion he can see you grow rigid, the tail smacking against his stomach and he has to hold back a snort. Due to your quick not affecting your entire body, he does help with your shedding process wherever the scales tend to form. Since they rest primarily against your back, he’s careful to touch. His claws pinch at the molted skin and pull away to reveal new skin that is clean and bright. Afterwards, he kisses the edge of where your skin meets your scales, a soothing cream layered above to prevent irritation.

If you paint your claws, he’ll ask that you paint his nails since he’s rather sloppy. He wants to match most of the time or hold onto something neutral like black. He’ll watch you, teasing remarks as you hold his hand. Soon he’ll grow silent, the air light around the both of you, as you raise his hand and blow cool air against his claws. It’s a tender moment that he hadn’t realized had happened, something so strangely close of you simply painting his claws. It isn’t romantic but isn’t platonic either. It’s a deep emotion where you hold onto his hand and where he trusts you to touch him, something that he doesn’t think he would have allowed anyone to do in this scenario. Under a shower, he’ll stare at his hands, careful to not have them chip.

There are dates where you both just sit in his room and do your own activities. Taking each other out can be quite difficult with the notoriety he holds. You’ll lay on his lap, a video playing on your phone while he plays a video game, grumbling about a boss while he watches in-game currency. He likes having you close by, to hold you in his arms and just enjoy an activity together even if it might be a different activity that you both partake in. He simply just wants to be in the same room as you. An old movie will be thrown on and he’ll sit back with his arm thrown over your shoulders with a bowl of popcorn on his lap. Dates will consist of indoor activities, oftentimes inviting other members of the League who will gladly take advantage of doing something fun. Holding a rather morally right attitude about the virtues of hero society- even if he is a villian- he does not cheat but is fully aware if you do, often stopping to your level to help his own team win while avoiding your narrowed gaze.

You both have inside jokes that mostly stem about scale related stuff. Anything that esmelbesa sort of molt is often teased to be each other, sharp grins when one has managed to win the little “argument”. Due to you having a forked tongue, he’ll often ask for you to stick your tongue out and it’s become a staple of your appearance. You’ll roll your eyes, only to stick your tongue out, the split ends reaching past your chin. It’s become a daily occurrence that you’ve simply started to do it unprompted, your eyes wide and hands into a clawed motion. Other jokes stem from molting periods, to the arly kisses where he confessed about wanting to put marshmallows against your canines and his awkwardness in the beginning of the relationship.

At the end of the day, Shuichi just appreciates you in ways that he can never confess. You brought him out of such a heavy place, something he was sure that while he would have had friends beside him, he wasn’t ever sure of finding someone who would mean so much to him in a romantic sense. He holds you close, his lips against yours and he is dependent on you. He sleeps beside you, he makes sure you are safe and that you have eaten before him. He can be awkward and tense in the beginning but he means well and he cares deeply, so new to relationships that when he feels your hands against his body, he leans into it with closed eyes and smile on his closed lips. You are his comfort and he cares for you with everything he has.

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idy-ll-ique · 4 years ago

Text

Bollywood Hits.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Desi!F!Reader

Warnings: deals with racism

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Requested: Nope

Summary: Steve sees Y/N for the first time and instantly falls in love, finally getting the date he wanted 6 months after meeting her. When they go to a restaurant, though, things go downhill.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This one is for my desi readers lmao but everyone is allowed to read (pls do lol). Enjoy!

---

"Yeah, excuse me, one second—"

Bucky and Sam waved him off as Steve stepped into the balcony at Bucky's place, taking out his phone which was ringing. As he stood there talking to the person on the other end, his eyes landed on the balcony next-door. His phone nearly dropped from his hand, his eyes bulging, a shocked look on his face.

How come Bucky never told him his next-door neighbor was so pretty?

She was wearing headphones, singing along to the songs as she cleaned her balcony. Only, the songs she was singing weren't English. Judging by the accent and words, his best guess was Hindi. Her voice was angelic, and her looks further confirmed the fact. That woman was going to be the death of him.

"Rogers, Rogers, are you listening?!"

"Uh— yeah, sorry, you were saying?"

After the call ended, he went back inside and towered over Bucky, who was sitting on the couch and having beer with Sam. Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve's stance; his arms were crossed and he had a glare on his face. "What did I do?" he drawled. "Who's your neighbor?" Bucky blinked.

"My nei— oh! On my right, Y/N. Why, what happened?" Steve groaned and plopped down next to his best mate, grabbing a bottle of beer for himself. "How come you never told me your neighbor was so hot?!" Bucky burst out laughing as Sam stood up, walking into the balcony to check for himself. His eyes, too, went wide and his jaw dropped.

Y/N, when she felt someone's stare on her, paused the music and turned to see an incredibly handsome, dark-skinned man staring at her, jaw dropped. Her cheeks flushed and she lowered her gaze, turning away from him. No way. Why would someone look at her in that way? When she looked back up, no one was there.

She shrugged and continued working, resuming her favorite Bollywood Hits playlist. "Aye, aye Y/N!" Blinking, she looked up again and saw three men standing in the balcony. A white, blond haired man, the previous handsome dark-skinned man and her neighbor, Bucky Barnes.

"Hi Bucky, your friends?" she smiled at him, taking off the headphones. Steve's heart squeezed in his chest at her accent; God, she was breathtaking. "Yeah. Sam and Steve. Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N." Y/N snorted at that, coming over to rest her hands on the railing of her balcony. "How do you manage to get it right, always? Accent and everything."

"I try my best," he winked at her and she grinned. Bucky, ever since he had moved into the apartment, had shamelessly flirted with her. Y/N didn't like him back, but she got flustered at every single pick up line and Bucky found her endearing. Recently he had stopped but they still talked; he was now like her protective friend.

"How long have you been living in America?" Sam asked her, grinning. "A few years now," she answered, giving him a smile. "Where did you live before moving here?" Steve inquired. "I used to live in Mumbai," she grinned at him. "Nice, nice. Well, I see you're busy right now, how about we go back inside, boys?" Bucky clapped both men on the back and went inside.

Sam followed but Steve stayed where he was. "I heard you singing, you have a brilliant voice," he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thank you! I actually took lessons, back when I was in India," she laughed, picking up the headphones again as he followed his friends into the apartment.

What had just happened?

---

After that day, Steve's visits to Bucky's apartment became more and more frequent. He often bought gifts for her; tiny things, like her favorite Starbucks order (that he had learnt from Bucky) or flowers, like a true 40's gentleman. Bucky passed on the gifts to her, saying Steve left them at his place to pass them on to her.

Y/N always had the same question on her mind, why? Why would he bring her gifts? Bucky used to suggest that he liked her and wanted to take her out on a date, but Y/N never believed him. Why would Captain America, an American hero, a global sensation, want to take her out on a date?

6 months passed just like that; the boys were back at Bucky's apartment after a gruesome mission, chilling around and having beers. That's when they heard it. A loud shriek came from Y/N's apartment, followed by… more loud shrieks and smashing of glass kitchenware. Steve's blood ran cold; Y/N was in trouble and he needed to do something.

He abruptly stood up and ran out of the apartment, breaking into Y/N's with ease. He didn't expect what hit him, though; Y/N was crouched near the door, her knees pulled to her chest, seemingly cowering away from… nothing? "Steve!" Y/N sobbed when she saw him, immediately getting up and throwing herself into his willing, open arms.

"Y/N? Doll, what happened?" Steve whispered into her hair, rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. Bucky and Sam entered the apartment too, looking around for potential danger. "Th-There's a lizard in my apartment… I—" She gulped, trying to keep more tears at bay, "I have a phobia of liz-lizards, please get it out, please," she cried into his shoulder.

Steve didn't laugh. He simply held her close, looking around for the tiny reptile. Sam located it near the window and easily shoo-ed it out, Bucky cleaning the glass that was lying on the floor. Y/N probably dropped the plate in shock and fear. "Y/N, it's gone, you're fine," he smiled, making no move to get her out of his arms.

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked meekly, pulling away from him. She finally realized how close they were standing and blushed; she liked the man too, had liked him ever since Bucky suggested he was into her. Their lips were currently only inches apart. "Yep, I'm sure. Sam got it out of the apartment." An agreeing noise came from Sam and Y/N finally relaxed.

Bucky stepped into the sitting room after throwing away the glass pieces in the trash can that was in the kitchen. "Thank you so much, Bucky." Y/N looked at her neighbor with a smile. "Call me whenever those things bother again, okay? I'm always here for you." Steve watched as Bucky and Y/N shared a hug.

"Thank you for shoo-ing it out, Sam," Y/N said next, turning to his friend. They gave each other a hug, too. "No worries at all," he winked at her and Steve smiled when she blushed. She looked cute when she was flustered. "And finally, thank you Captain America for… keeping me safe," she breathed out, her breath hitching when she turned to her crush.

"Oh, no problem at all!"

Bucky and Sam left the apartment, leaving the two with their obvious tension. "Listen, um, I was wondering… would you like to get dinner sometime? There's a diner nearby, Bucky's friend works there…" "I'd love to get dinner with you." Expecting a hug, she was pleasantly surprised when he leaned in and gave her a sweet peck on the lips.

They shared numbers and Steve left the apartment with a huge grin on his face.

He was finally getting the date he had wanted for 6 months.

---

"Steve!"

He looked up, grinning when he saw Y/N making her way towards him, dressed in a magnificent red dress. "Doll, you look wonderful," he commented, bringing her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her cheek to not spoil her makeup, and Y/N giggled at that. "Shall we?" Y/N nodded and the two people entered the diner.

Almost everyone looked up at them, their eyes going wide when they saw Steve. Then their eyes immediately narrowed at Y/N, because who was she? Surely Captain America was not dating an immigrant? Y/N's brows furrowed and she unconsciously shifted closer to Steve, who hadn't noticed anything.

"Hi, I'm Adam, your server for the day. What would you like to order?" Steve and Y/N went over the menu and Steve gave his order first. Y/N's voice cracked slightly when she noticed how Adam grimaced at her accent. She had made no point of getting a fake American accent, since she loved her desi one so much.

"Will that be all?" Adam turned to Steve, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, thanks." Adam went away and Y/N's eyes followed his form. He went back to his friends and talked to them in hushed whispers, which made them all giggle quietly and sneer. Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest, her fear unbeknown to Steve.

Then suddenly, she noticed a young East Asian lady in the bunch who was frowning at the others. Her gaze caught Y/N's and she gave her a small, apologetic smile, nodding her head towards the white people that were talking shit about her. She reluctantly returned a smile; at least she wasn't the only person of colour around.

"Y/N!"

Startled, Y/N turned to see Steve blinking at her. "Hm?" she cleared her throat, giving him a grin. "Is something the matter? I called your name three times and you weren't listening…" Oh God, was this date too boring for her? Should he have done something else? "Sorry, sorry, just lost… what's up?"

They maintained a light-hearted conversation as they waited for the food to arrive. Surprisingly, it was the East Asian woman who brought them their orders. "Hi, I'm Leah, I'm replacing Adam. Here are your dishes." Leah placed the food in front of them. "What happened to Adam?" Steve asked curiously.

Y/N tensed up. "Um, does that really matter? Thank you so much Leah, that will be all for now." Y/N briefly closed her eyes as Leah sympathetically patted her on the shoulder, going away. "Y/N, is something the matter? You've kinda been on the edge ever since we walked into the diner," Steve asked finally.

"You wouldn't get it," Y/N muttered, prodding her food. "What? Try me, tell me, please," he insisted, eyes going wide when Y/N's filled with tears. "Just eat your food, Steve." Heartbroken, Steve only watched as Y/N gulped down her food through the tears.

Leah was watching the couple and she sighed when she saw Y/N crying. Wiping her hands on her apron she walked up to the couple and stood next to them. Y/N didn't look up, but she could tell it was her. "Is everything okay?" Steve asked her, now getting irritated. "I know what happened to her, sir."

Steve blinked. "What is it?" he asked, desperate for answers. "I replaced Adam because he was being a racist jerk. Everyone working here, in fact, is looking at you two weird. You can't help but notice the stares, speaking as a POC. You wouldn't get it, Mr Rogers, you're the pinnacle of America, a blond, white man. We have it rough."

He turned to see Y/N desperately hiding her tears as she tried (and failed) to choke down the food. "My coworkers were talking about you two. Why would Captain America want to go out with an immigrant? Why doesn't he settle for a nice, white lady, that's more his type. I'm sorry about that," Leah spoke quietly, toying with her hands.

Steve's entire being filled with rage like he had never felt before. He pushed himself off the table and stormed past Leah, who sat next to Y/N and tried to console her. Y/N's tears ceased when the palm of Steve's hand connected hard with Adam's cheek. Everyone in the diner froze. "How dare you," Steve breathed out.

Adam clutched his cheek, paralyzed with fear. "How dare you talk about my date like that? Who I like or hate is none of your business. Not any of your business!" He yelled the last line. "If I ever, ever catch you talking about my love life again, any of you, you'll be sorry you were ever born!" With that, Steve returned to his table.

Pulling out his wallet, he paid for his untouched and Y/N's half-eaten food, handing the money to Leah with a smile. "Thank you," he told her sincerely, helping Y/N into her coat. "No worries, sir. You two make a cute couple," Leah chuckled, waving as the two walked out of the diner. Y/N, as soon as they were outside, threw herself in Steve's arms.

"I'm sorry for ruining our date," she mumbled into his neck as his arms went around her waist, bringing her close. "You didn't ruin anything, doll. How about next time, we meet at my place and order takeout?" he suggested, pulling away and wiping Y/N's face with his fingers. "I'd like that a lot."

"Let me drop you home, come on." With a soft kiss placed on her forehead, the two walked back to her apartment building hand-in-hand.

---

A/N: Leave a like you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steven grant rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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jessiebanethedragon · 3 years ago

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White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 7)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter four Chapter five

Chapter Six

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Seven: The The Havoc Marauder “How did you get out of the brig?” Tech asks you the second you're out of earshot of the captain. He looks judgemental and curious, and you’re not sure you want to tell him just how you managed to escape the cell. You still do not trust them. “I got the door open.” You tell him looking around, from here the ship looks quite small, the deck isn't all too long nor is it wide, and from the captains quarters looking to the front of the vessel you can appreciate the sleeknes of the ship.

“How did you get the door open?” Tech suppresses an eye roll and you simply shrug. More interested in Crosshair in the crows nest and Wrecker hauling different sails up and down. “None of you look that much alike.” You think aloud, marveling at the first clones you’ve ever met. “We are enhanced clones.” Tech states, and you nod. That makes sense given it seems they all have vastly different personalities. You see Hunter emerge from his quarters with a frown, looking for a situation report as well as an estimated time to Alderaan. “And the captain?” You turn to Tech who is squinting through his goggles at Hunter. “He never used to be this…” Tech starts mid thought before prematurely ending his sentence to stomp over and chastise Wrecker for the sail ties. Leaving you without the promised tour of the ship and very little knowledge on what you should do with yourself in the meantime. You briefly think about exploring yourself but decide to not push your luck. “If you’re not going to help, the least you could do is stand out of our way.” A gruff voice says from behind you, making you jump, how the captain snuck behind you unnoticed is a mystery. “What would you like me to do?” You ask, hoping to be helpful and ease his wrath. His stare to you is unnerving like he is analyzing your abilities. “Go find Gonk, and see what you can make of her.” He says before stepping past you - or rather, barging by so that you leap yourself into the wall just to get out of his way. “Who’s Gonk?” You shout after him and as he turns to answer Wrecker steps in. “You’ll love her!” he exclaims, and you realize his eye patch for the first time, and the pink scarred skin that crawls into the left side of his face like a spider's web. “Follow me, little miss!” He says crossing the deck and watching your awe when you see how high up Crosshair really is in the crows nest and your smile as he wrestles with Tech who's trying to communicate with him on the ground. “What’s your name lil’ miss?” Wrecker asks, pulling you away from the marvel, much to the delight of your neck as it relaxes from the extreme angle. You give your full name and watch as he shakes his head. “I meant like your nickname, what do you like to be called?” He corrects pushing a small door open ever so slightly. You pause, you don’t really have a nickname or a short form you like. “I guess I do not have one…” you trail off, “Tech said Aaray earlier, but i have a feeling it isn’t exactly a compliment.” You press one hand into the other, a disgusting nervous habit that your father tried to rid you of. Claiming the popping sounds were unlady-like and barbaric. “I think it suits you.” Wrecker exclaims with a laugh, but quells it when he sees your distressed face. “In a good way I mean, it’s a funny nickname for you Little Miss.” “And accurate…” Crosshair comments as he goes by up the stairs you and Wrecker are currently under in order to get to the small door. “What does it mean?” you ask, thankful that the breeze has let up thanks to the alcove. And it is much less bright down here, you can actually look at Wrecker without squinting. “WRECKER!” Someone screams above you, and raises your eyebrows at the sound, which is followed immediately by a laugh from your tall companion, before he turns away and dashes up the stairs, making a thunderous sound above you. Marvelling at having been forgotten a second time, you realise that these clones- or rather men, are probably not used to company. But rather than waiting for someone to find you, you decide to push

the door open. The end of your dress is fraying, the sleeves pushed up to give you more mobility, and the sight of your hand against the oak makes you want to laugh. Your father would be mortified to see you in this state, and that thought alone allows contentment to settle in your stomach. “Gonk?” You ask, pushing the door open all the way. This room is small, the smallest you’ve seen on the ship, with no windows and the only door being the one you currently stand in. The far corner opposite that of you, sits a GNK droid, it’s legs torn apart and panels missing from what would've been its front facing port. And as you venture further in, you can hear that the droid is still humming away, still trying to generate power. Behind you the door swings shut. And in the time it takes you to turn and react to the swoosh noise, and then back to the droid a pair of eyes, mismatched in colour, appear in the darkness. You freeze staring into the little beads of colour, one Purple and one blue, they blink at you. Before disappearing again back into the droid. And through the rummaging and eating sounds, you can guess where it went. Tiptoeing back to the door, you open it again looking for something to brace it on before the creature gets away. Grumbling when you don't see anything, you unlace one of your boots and wedge it between the door and the wall, before awkwardly stepping your way back to the GNK droid. This time when the eyes appear you see the small creature's face. Mismatched white and black fur that covers its body in patches, leaving some areas bare to the world. With paws ending in claws makes you think it could be some sort of Loth cat. But as it scurries up the wall you see it’s side orientated legs, long tail, lack of ears, and most shocking of all wings. Your gasp must startle it because the next thing you know it’s leaping towards you as you let out an undignified shriek. You feel its feet on your face as it crawls up to nestle in your hair, further disturbing the fancy updo you once had. “Wrecker!” You call into the darkness, thinking about how you ended up in this predicament, one boot missing and an unknown creature in your hair. When no one answers your call, you decide to become a lot less lady-like. “WRECKER!” You shout, which disrupts the animal and causes it to crawl and sit on the small of your back. The door opens to reveal a surprised clone, probably not expecting your voice to reach such levels. And as one eyebrow raises at you when you spin to face him. “What is it, Little Miss?” He asks, and you gingerly turn around to show him your new companion. “Oh, uh… TECH.” He shouts, deciding fairly quickly that this was not within his abilities to deal with. You turn your head to give him the side eye of disapproval, before Tech, holopad in hand greets you at the doorway. “Oh.” He echoes his older brother, “this is an interesting development.” He comments on venturing into the room. “I would beg to differ.” you counter. Tensing again as it moves from you back and up into the wisps of hair at your neck. “It appears to enjoy your body heat.” He adds as it begins to nuzzle into the space where your neck and shoulder scrunch in panic. “It was in the droid.” you tell him putting emphasis on ‘in’ and how you do not want to join in with that. “Must be a relative of the Ordo Moon Dragon, except this species seems much smaller, and descends explicitly from its older feathered relatives.” “That doesn’t exactly solve my current predicament.” You murmur to yourself, turning your head further away from the speckled thing. And it makes a small noise in disapproval as it can no longer burrow into your neck. It’s a kind of ‘puurrrrl’ sound, with rolling ‘r’s and a curious emphasis on the end of the sound. And its tail brushes your cheek as it turns to face tech. Before leaping over to him and landing on his HUD portion of his goggles. You turn around freely now, watching as it begins gnawing on the HUD and licking at the glass with its translucent tongue. “As I suspected.” Tech declares unphased, “it feeds on

energy. Hence the fate of the GNK droid.” “Haha!” Wrecker chuckles, “that's why we call er’ Gonk.” “It’s not dangerous, scans say its an Alach moon dragon, similar to a Kashyyykian Gecko.” You look at him skeptically. “It’s got fur.” You comment, having poured over natural encyclopedias long enough to know that most reptiles are not, in fact, furred. “Small feathers to be exact.” Tech corrects, “perhaps a result of our run from Kamino to Geonosis…” Tech thinks aloud, reaching up to carefully remove the creature from his goggles and place it back into your hands. “What does that mean?” You enquire staring at the mini-dragon a little less scared now. “We did a supply run of genect-” “The lady doesn't need to know about that Wrecker.” Tech hisses, “have manners.”he says with a glare, you hear a muffled apology before deciding to cut in. “The lady is also tired of her own lack of knowledge.” You add, wanting to giggle at how improper you’re being, feeling like a little kid sneaking too many sweets before a meal. You smile wholeheartedly when Wrecker’s face lights up. “The Genosians have underground fighting rings that the kaminoans provide spliced animals for. Mismatched creatures to battle each other for entertainment.” Crosshair says, toeing his big brothers to the side as he catches the tail end of your conversation. He smirks when your face falls in sadness. And Tech stares at his brother, sufficanlty unimpressed with his incessant need to create chaos wherever he went. Absent-mindedly you scratch under the creature's chin in pity, feeling better when it coo’s out in enjoyment. “Shall I just work the ship myself then?” the captain's voice travels in, prompting the three clones to rush back outside and causing the dragon to startle and make its way back into your hair. Hunter leans on the frame and crosses his arms at you. “I, uh- found Gonk.” you offer him nervously. “You found a pest.” He says. “That ate our droid.” He adds looking at the remnants of the GNK. “Did you not know it was here?” You ask, wondering about what else might be lurking in the darkness. “Are you trying to undermine my position as captain?” He asks walking up to you, but with your new friend in your hair you do not want to move and disturb her. “N- no.” you answer quickly. “That's ‘no captain’ to you.” He seethes. “No captain.” you repeat firmly. Trying to steady yourself under his gaze, it’s so intense you feel like you’re swaying, but that could just be the motion of the ship. Hunter smells like a fireplace in a blizzard, something sharp, Smokey and warm. You blink at him, doing your best to stare eye to eye. He looks at you for just a second longer than what one would call normal, before plucking Gonk out of your hair and leaving the room with her in his grasp.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @starskenobiwan @lordellbell

#tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb sergeant hunter #sergreant hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch series #sergeant hunter #hunter x reader #hunter clone #hunter x you #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #jessiebanethedragon #white sands warm the cold sea

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crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping a Secret - Part 2

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 6k (lol no chill as always)

[a/n]

Sorry for the delayed update. I added almost 1k words just to solidify the characters to give depth even more to the story. Feel free to reread. (It's totally not because I started a different series altogether.)

When I say this is slow burn, I meant sloooooooowww burn.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. :)

AO3

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

What were you even thinking? Actually, why weren’t you? Had you used at least two brain cells of yours, you wouldn’t have momentarily lost your mind and kissed Tsukishima. You could’ve justified your actions if you were drunk, but you ingested not even an ounce of alcohol that night.

History will remember yesterday as the day a a sober you and a very displeased Tsukishima who found yourselves smooching publicly in the middle of a club. You’re just glad that no other member of the team goes to the same university you both go to. Else, you'd run the risk of getting seen.

Were so touch-deprived that you couldn’t resist even Tsukishima? And what about him? Why did he get along with it? You don’t think he actually hates you. Hate is such a strong word. He just exceedingly dislikes you. So why would he make out with you? Maybe he thought of it as a way of finally standing up to you?

Ugh.

You’re thankful that you didn’t have training yesterday. You were a mess the whole day trying to make sense of what happened. Not that you’re any better today; you’re still baffled as fuck. But you’re glad you had that day off so you wouldn’t have to face him immediately.

For the first time ever, you’re dreading going to the gym. Even if you’re tired or you lack sleep, you’ve never felt distressed as the manager of the Sendai Frogs. All this because of Tsukishima. But can you really put the blame on him when it was you who initiated it?

“Good morning, y/n,” Eiji, the captain of the team greets you.

“Morning, Eiji,” you say back. Even though he’s older than you, you dropped the salutations already, same with everybody else.

“You okay?” he asks worriedly.

“Oh! Yeah, absolutely! When am I ever not okay?” You toughen it up and erase the troublesome kiss in your head. You are their ever shining manager, first and foremost. Anything outside of that has no place in this gym.

“Never. It’s almost scary actually,” he answers with jest.

“Right? ‘Cause I’m a freaking goddess.”

He gives you a noble bow. “Indeed, you are, my lady.”

You giggle softly. Your players really are the best on and off the court (except for Tsukishima). “Go do your drills instead of buttering me up, ‘captain.’” He gives you a mock salute then jogs off towards the net.

“Y/n!”

You saunter off to your coach after you were called. “Yes, Coach?”

“Can you help tape the blockers?” You nod willingly, quickly discarding unnecessary thoughts of Tsukishima.

“Tsukishima’s free. Go start with him.”

You almost flinch upon hearing his name.

‘Great,’ you groan internally as you get the wrap from your kit and drag your feet toward the source of your uneasiness. But what did you expect? Of course, you’d have to deal with him sooner or later.

“Morning, Tsukishima,” you greet him with forced normalcy, acting like nothing’s wrong. As you take his left hand and you’re instantly reminded of what happened the other night -- how this hand gripped your waist while his mouth moved against yours… how his skin felt against the palm of your hand as he towered over you, body against body in a dance so dangerous and so hypnotizing that you lost yourself in the moment.

You tried your best to calm down yesterday, but seeing him right now makes you want to smack yourself from your momentary insanity that led you to kiss him.

Instead, you give him the nicest, brightest smile to channel your frustrations as you start taping his fingers. You just hope and pray that he doesn’t bring it up.

“Morning, manager .” It was an indirect jab at you. Even when he says it with a dead tone, you know he’s taunting you by addressing you as manager - a tortuous reminder that what happened last Saturday night wasn’t forgotten.

Instead of yielding to the provocation, you respond with your own. You might have messed up, but you’re not letting him get the upper hand. “How was your weekend, Tsukki?”

“Horrible,” he quickly answers without even thinking.

“Ditto. What happened to yours?” you ask with fake curiosity, already knowing why. Even if you didn’t kiss him then, he was already acting up like an angsty teen forced by his mom to attend a children’s party within the neighborhood.

“Went to a disgusting party.”

You nod pretentiously. “Mine’s horrible too. I got g-”

“I didn’t ask,” he interrupts.

“Well, you’re still going to hear it,” you respond just as distastefully as he cut you off. “I got groped by some perv, but I kinda punched some good manners unto him.” You release his left hand and take his right one to tape it as well.

“And?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s it. After that, I just went home from how horrible the experience was.”

You look up to him, meeting his sardonic gaze paired with a raised eyebrow from what you just said. You know that he understood that you were referring to something else other than the perv incident as horrible.

“How about you? What happened to that disgusting party of yours?” you press on.

“I bumped into someone I didn’t really want to see.”

“And?”

“Do you really wanna know how horrible it was for me?” A smirk creeps up on the corner of his mouth as he asks. There were many times before that you’ve wanted a taste of Tsukishima’s vile sarcasm, just to know what he’d say to you. Today is not one of those times. You don’t want him using that reckless kiss against you.

“Actually, no. I don’t really care.” You let go of his hand you just finished working with and look around to look for anyone you could use as a distraction from Tsukishima’s attempt to retell the kiss from his perspective.

“Kogane!” you brightly call the setter as you bounce cheerfully towards him.

Even if you don’t show it, Tsukishima knows he’s gotten under your previously impenetrable thick skin. He detests what happened last Saturday. The more he remembers it, the more he abhors it. The only reason he’s not totally hating himself for getting swept along with your shit is because he knows you hated it too, probably more than he does since it was you who kissed him first.

His smug grin only spreads when you march to Kogane with that cutesy act you only show to players from opposing teams to unsettle them before matches. You take both Kogane’s hands and beam at him. “Do you want me to tape your fingers?”

“Y-you don’t have to, y/n. I can do it myself!” Kogane blurts out, panicking at your sudden closeness and physical touch.

“But I love taking care of you guys,” you pout at Kogane, which only makes the setter blush a shade almost close to red.

Tsukishima follows you to help his babbling, flustered teammate.

“You’re going to kill him, y/n,” he says as he passes by you and Kogane who now looks like he stopped functioning.

You blink at Kogane, realizing what you’re doing to the poor guy.

You must have been really bothered by Tsukishima and unknowingly projected it to someone else.

Tsukishima sneers as he sees you try to ease Kogane from his severe fluster but only make it worse by rubbing his shoulders.

A dash of pride and satisfaction swells on Tsukishima’s chest as he watches you get agitated with the situation you, yourself caused. Getting back at you feels even better than he imagined it would be.

Even though you and Tsukishima are in the same class, you don’t really notice his presence. Sometimes you’d even forget you’re classmates. Now, though, you are more aware of the fact that he’s actually there than you ever have.

“Alright, class. For your main project this semester, I’m going to have you partnered up. You need to come up with a comprehensive report on mating behavior of reptiles. I’ll randomly generate your assigned reptile.”

You groan. Another collaborative work in the same subject. You don’t like working with others because you don’t want to adapt to anyone’s schedule. You like to get things done ahead of time. You hate procrastinating because you don’t want your uni requirements getting mixed up with potential tasks from your managerial job, especially whenever tournament seasons come.

The last collaborative work you worked on is a group project where you did most of the work yourself. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t have fucking freeloaders as groupmates. The little shits made you do 90% of the project because you wanted it done early.

You just pray that this time, you get to be paired with someone responsible. You tap your pen on your desk while you wait for your name to be called.

“L/n and Tsukishima.”

You drop your pen at your professor’s announcement. It bounces twice on your desk before rolling to the floor, but you don’t move to pick it up. Your gaze immediately flies to where Tsukishima is seated and find him glaring at you already. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this entire situation is.

Seriously? Were you a serial killer in your previous life or something? Did some higher power decide to punish you for your grave sins like this?

Whatever. You’re not having any of this shit.

You wait until the class is over and approach your professor. “Sir. I’d like to do this project alone.” Or at least with someone else.

He continues to type something on his laptop, not bothering to look up at you, as he asks, “Why is that?”

“I just feel more comfortable doing things on my own, Sir. Please.” You try to give him your nice student smile but his eyes don't leave his screen.

“Then what? Have you increase my workload?”

Shit. You forgot that this particular professor of yours is known to not budge to anyone. You scramble your brain for another excuse.

“Sir. Can I do this project alone?” you suddenly hear Tsukihima’s voice behind you.

Finally, your professor closes his laptop and eyes you two unenthusiastically. “My answer is no to miss Y/n, so my answer to you, Mr. Tsukishima, is also no. I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but you’re doing this together.”

You can’t help but scowl despite being right in front of your professor. If it wasn’t for that darn kiss, you would’ve loved working with Tsukishima. Even though you don’t have the same classes, his schedule won’t be that hard to match up with because you two have the same training days. Secondly, he’s smart. You won’t have to carry the whole weight of the project.

“You know what, I’ll reconsider.” A glimmer of hope lights up in your chest as you hear your professor’s words. “I’ll allow you two to work individually — but with an automatic ten point deduction for this project.”

“No,” you and Tsukishima respond at the same time.

“Great! You’re already getting along swimmingly.” Your professor picks up his stuff and stands up. “Enjoy,” he waves a dismissive goodbye and leaves.

You slowly turn around to face Tsukishima and find that you share the same lour that he has. You cross your arms and lean on your professor’s desk. “Guess we’re together, Tsukishima.”

You allowed yourself one week to compose yourself before you agreed to start the project with Tsukishima. You still saw him at training days, and even then, you tried to have the least amount of interaction with him so the ‘incident’ wouldn’t be brought up again. Meeting him for a project where it’s just you two is different and you needed time.

As much as you don’t want to be with him, you told yourself that it’ll be over soon. You just pushed the kiss in the back of your head and convinced yourself that it was just a stupid kiss. It didn’t mean anything. He probably just went along with it out of spite, so it’s best you think of it as a spur of the moment madness. That way, you won’t be bothered if he sordidly brings it up again. At least now, you can go back to your usual, cheeky self around him.

You’re about to text Tsukishima that you’ve arrived at the station you agreed to meet up at but you already see him there standing while he’s scrolling his phone with his usual white headphones on.

Unfortunately for you and him, the reptile assigned to you two are crocodiles. It’s the worst possible assignment you could get among the roster of reptiles assigned. You need to travel all the way to Wakabayashi for a legitimate crocodile farm to observe, compared to other reptiles which are easily accessible with nearby zoos in Miyagi. You just pray that you’ll only need this one trip to get all the data you need for your report.

You walk towards him and instantly regard how he looks. Despite being in the same university, you don’t see him around much. Even in your sole class together, you’re seated way too apart from each other to even look at each other’s direction. Not that being seated beside each other would’ve made a difference. You’re not friends. There’s no need to talk to him since everything that’s volleyball-related is relayed through line. To you, he’s just one of your players. As far as you’re concerned, the only Tsukishima you’re aware of is the one sweating his white shirt and training shorts during practice.

To have this much involvement with him outside the gym is throwing you out of your usual loop. You continue studying him at a distance. Today he’s wearing white plaid pants, black turtleneck (probably long sleeves) with a lighter shade of black coat on top, and a brown wool scarf. He also has a gray bonnet that makes his blonde locks frame his face nicely.

What the heck? Did he always dress like this even in class? How come you never noticed?

He finally notices you. He puts down his phone and removes his headphones. “How long have you been there?”

“Wow, Tsukishima. You look kinda hot,” you blurt out without thinking.

His eyes expand at your statement that came out of nowhere. “Huh?!”

“Oh, sorry. That must’ve been random. But you look really good though. I kinda feel like I’m meeting a date,” you say with objective candor as you continue to stare at him.

That catches him completely off guard. The other day you’re on the edge around him. You weren’t even paying much attention to him during training, but now you’re back to being a headache whose mouth knows no bounds as you faze him with your unfiltered thoughts. Now, it’s him who is uncomfortable again with your thorough eyes scanning him approvingly.

“As if I’d ever date you,” he snaps back at your remark to which you scoff at.

“I didn’t say you would. Maybe you’re forgetting, I’d never go out with a member of the team.”

“Right. But kissing one is totally fine, huh?” he retaliates in an instant with a condescending look. He waits for your reaction, eager to see you distraught and bothered by it. To his dissatisfaction, you don’t behave in such a way. Instead, you sigh defeatedly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I got a little crazy that night,” you say casually to a degree that you sounded like it was just a petty accident. “You kissed me back, so I’m sure you were too. Right?”

The last word is conniving, and he can tell why you phrased it that way. You’re leaving him no choice but to disregard what happened or else it’s going to seem like it meant something to him. The hell it does. It simply resurfaces back on his mind sometimes because of how unpleasant the memory is.

‘Devious woman,’ he snarls in his head.

It should be okay. Your reason for what you did can also be his excuse for how responded to it. What he didn’t like is that he hasn’t even managed to make the most out of that incident, while you immediately found a way to undo the grave you dug for him to bury you into.

Plus, the only advantage he sees out of partnering with you for this project is the possibility of being able to pester you the way you pester him during practice. Obviously, that’s already thrown off the window. Now, there’s nothing in it for him for the duration of the project. He is left with nothing but the fact that he has to endure your company. To think that he’s already so miserable when this afternoon has barely even started.

“Yeah,” he answers with contained resentment. “Can we go on the bus now?” He asks to deviate away from the topic already. He was hoping he could still use the incident to unnerve you, but it’s for naught now.

He enters the bus first and assumes you’ll follow him, which you do as you take your seat beside him. You get your shoulder bag and take out a notebook.

“Can you take a look at this outline I made for our report?” you ask while you hand him your notebook opened at a certain page.

“I can’t read while the bus is moving,” he says then waits for a lame comeback from you. But you don’t comment about it. Why must you keep on being such a wildcard?

“Ah, okay. I’ll just tell it to you then,” you smile at him. “This trip is going to take long. It’d be a waste of time to not make use of it, right?”

He groans internally. Why must you be right all the fucking time?

He also made an outline last night, but he didn’t tell you because he thought it’d be better if he just did the data-gathering himself and let you take the pictures the report should have. He forgot that you’re not as irresponsible and carefree as you present yourself to be.

He listens to you explain your outline, looking for flaws in it for the sake of his grade and also for his self-satisfaction. And he does find a few.

“You should have separate discussion points for mating characteristics for male and females. I’m sure they have distinct traits. Also, I think we should include more than just one species, preferably three if the farm has it.” He continues, “Maybe we can note certain unique behaviors per species. It would be inconclusive, but it would still be nice to include it as a commentary.”

He hopes to extract even just a tiny hint of embarrassment from you for he’s thought of it better than you did. But you just stare at him for a good few seconds before you break into a dazzled smile.

“Oh my God. Yeah, you’re absolutely right!”

You open your notebook and scribble the changes in your drafted outline. “Is there anything else?” You consult him genuinely. You accept his criticisms with an open mind, which vexes him even more.

“Nothing,” he grumbles.

“Alright. Let’s just revise it again once we see what’s on the farm.”

He doesn’t bother replying anymore since you’re once again right.

He puts on his headphones again to drown out whatever chatter you plan to have with him since you’re done discussing the project for now. Instead of bugging him, you take out a bunch of readings and focus on them intently, completely ignoring him.

With nothing to entertain him aside from the music on his ears, his peripheral keeps going back to you and how hard you’re concentrating with the papers in your one hand and a pen in the other.

He removes one muff of his headphone from his ear and asks you, “Don’t you get motion sickness?”

You really must be into what you’re studying because you flinch when he speaks, causing you to drop your pen.

He feels responsible for it so he leans down to pick it up, but you also do the same. As you both reach down to grab your pen, your temple collides with his.

“Ow,” your fingers go to massage the spot, failing to notice as he does that your faces are too close for comfort. He watches you wince for a quick while before looking at him, finally realizing that he’s within a proximity familiar to you both.

It’s reminiscent of that night except this time, the natural light affirms that it wasn’t just the ambiance of the club that made you attractive enough to pull him in and share that heinous kiss. With your well-lit features, he can see that you’re thinking about the same thing he is.

Your eyes fall on his lips and for some illogical reason, he does the same.

Like last time, you’re the first to act on it. The major difference is, instead of leaning in, you retreat. You sit up straight with your fingers still on the side of your head and smile graciously at him. “It’s fine, Tsukishima. I’ll get it,” you say, which he finds half-witted because he’s still bent down and he can already grasp the pen.

He sits back up and hands you your pen. You use the hand on your temple to get it.

“Oh, thanks.” You stare at the pen for a second, then tuck it in your pocket. “Anyways, yeah. I don’t have problems reading in a moving vehicle.”

You dive back to his question and disregard what just happened. It works for him. He’d rather not think about it as well.

“Have you not seen me scrambling paperwork on our bus rides to and from tournaments?”

“No.” He prefers not to pay attention to you. Hell, he pretends you don’t exist when he can. So naturally, he doesn’t know what it is you do when you’re not being your pestering self. It pains him to admit it, but you do get shit done -- efficiently, too. He should be glad because at least, you won’t be like his previous groupmates.

Still, just you being … you, ticks him off.

You laugh out of nowhere. “For someone who doesn’t speak much, you’re so fucking transparent.”

He frowns, not being able to grasp what you meant.

“Okay, look. I like pissing you off. I really do. And you, you don’t like me a lot. But for this project. Can we pretend that I’m not your annoying manager and you’re not the nasty Tsukishima I know?”

“How the fuck can I do that when we see each other almost everyday as such?”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “Right. What was I even thinking? Go ahead and be emo with your music over there while I study here, yeah?” You pat him on the shoulders twice with that patronizing grin you always give him before pulling your pen back from your pocket and focusing once more on your readings, completely paying no attention to him for the rest of the trip.

—

As soon as you reach the crocodile farm, Tsukishima suggests that you two roam the area separately to cover more ground. In reality, he just wanted to get rid of you even for just a few minutes. He needed a break from you.

He does so by taking his time strolling around the place, observing how the area is situated. It looks like a park with its vast lush green environment and man-made waters to habituate the crocodiles. There are four main areas: the museum, the hatchling house, the zoo, and the breeding pens. He first goes to the museum, looking at the skeletal structure of some crocodiles. It isn’t really significant to the project but he can’t help admire it.

When he realizes that he’s taking longer than he initially thought, he starts looking for you. He sends you a text, but you don’t reply. You had gone to the zoo’s direction so he assumes you’re somewhere around that area.

When he does find you, you’re not alone.

There you are near a crocodile pen, getting friendly with a guy he’s sure you just met.

It’s so familiar. The only difference is that you’re not wearing the Frogs’ jacket and you’re not in the Sendai gymnasium. He walks towards your direction, not caring if he’s going to cut off your little chat. You’re there for the project, not to snag some random bozo.

As he closes in behind you, he hears your conversation.

“Actually, birds are more closely related to dinosaurs than crocodiles. You couldn’t tell, right?” you explain with zeal.

Tsukishima stops in his tracks at the foreign feeling in his chest. Wait a minute. Is he actually impressed? Moreover, what the heck is he impressed for? You should know that. You are both in a higher herpetology class. Even though it hasn’t been discussed during lectures, it’s natural that you know that. However, the guy you’re talking with isn't as enthusiastic.

“Can’t blame you though. Crocs and dinos share the same sexy vibe with those chill eyes and scaly skin. Also, look at those smokin webbed feet. Fucking work of art, dude. You feel me?” you press on fanatically.

The stranger looks at you with a forced smile, obviously weirded out by your ‘passionate’ description of the reptile. “Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Bye,” the guy bows and storms away from you.

You turn your attention back to the lowered pen in front of you with a satisfied smile and shudder when you see Tsukishima already there beside you.

“Gah! You scared me. Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask with your hand still on your chest.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you creeping out that stranger.”

You tither at his answer. “Glad you didn’t. It was fun seeing him all freaked out.”

He finds it weird. He thought you just had an aversion towards athletes. That’s why you keep driving away anyone who’d approach you during matches. Apparently, that’s not the case.

“He looked like he’d follow you back to Miyagi if you didn’t go all freaky nerdy on him.”

You jeer at his comment. “He could follow me to the ends of the Earth and I still wouldn’t give him my number. I’d rather date Mr. Crocodylus siamensis over here than boring dum dums blinded by how hot I am.”

“Then why do you entertain them?” he follows up.

“Caaaauuusse it’s fun to see them squirm,” you declare cheerfully as you veer your gaze at him. “Why the sudden interest with the way I handle men, Tsukishima?”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your lips tugging up to form a playful smirk. “Don’t tell me you suddenly find me interesting?”

You really do know how to push the right buttons to provoke him. He grits his teeth from your audacity.

“I’m joking for fuck’s sake! My god. I already know that even if it’s just the two of us on this planet, and we’d have to procreate to restart the world population, you’d rather choose to doom humanity than have anything to do with me.”

Among all the correct things that came out of your mouth, that was the only thing he could verbally agree with. “Good you know,” he retorts.

You don’t seem to take offense though. You still keep your unwavering smile as you get your phone out and take a picture of the Borneo crocodile.

“Should we go see the breeding pens now?” you ask nonchalantly, dismissing the previous conversation like it was nothing.

You both decide to hire a designated tour guide to assist you while you observe the crocodiles, particularly the ones for breeding.

“Hi, Ms. l/n. I’m Sara and I will be your guide for today,” she introduced herself with a dedicated smile.

“I’m so thrilled that you and your boyfriend decided to learn more about crocodiles for your date,” she adds.

You and Tsukishima glance at each other before turning back to her.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” “He’s not my boyfriend.”

You both say simultaneously, except yours sounded like a friendly correction while his sounded like a dead announcement.

“We’re just classmates for a project,” you correct her.

She bows apologetically with embarrassment and worry. “I’m so sorry for assuming that.”

“No worries, Sara,” you reassure her before Tsukishima says something unnecessary. “Can you lead us on the breeding pens? We’d like to observe the whole thing.”

“Of course. Right this way.”

Aside from the mishap earlier, you find Sara competent at her job as she fills you in with details not included in the sign boards in the pens. She gives you information about the mating process that you didn’t find when you researched about the subject. You assume Tsukishima’s thinking the same because he doesn’t say anything out of the blue.

“By any chance, will we see a pair mating today?” he asks after a while.

“I’m not really sure, Mr. Tsukishima. It’s really up to the animals.”

You tug on Tsukishima’s sleeve when you catch sight of one crocodile latching himself on top of another.

“What?” he asks irritatedly, but follows your line of sight.

“Oh, lucky. There you go.” Sara announces with a pleasant smile.

You get your phone and your notes. You multitask listening to Sara, taking photos, and scribbling notes on your paper pad.

On the other hand, Tsukishima multitasks observing the crocodiles in action and observing you.

You’re asking important questions to the guide while juggling other tasks. Yes, he doesn’t like you and loathes being partnered with you. However, that doesn't mean he won’t cooperate with you. He won’t mind if you ask him for help, but you seem to have even forgotten that he’s there.

He grabs your phone from your hand, garnering a confused look from you.

“I’ll take the photos. You take down notes.”

You flash him an honest, grateful smile. “Thanks, Tsukishima.”

Then, you proceed with the things you’re doing more at ease.

He can’t tell who he’s more pissed at, you or himself. Something about that display of productivity and wit unnerves him. It’s as if it’s telling him that his chagrin over you is unreasonable because you’re actually reliable when it counts. What’s worse is you’re completely oblivious to it. In fact, you’re almost ignoring him.

Goddamn it. What’s he doing? He’s completely distracted now from the project and is solely focused on you. He quickly shakes it off and calms himself down. His attention should be on the reptiles, not you.

He turns his attention back to the crocodiles, but the mating act only lasted a few minutes. After that, you both barrage Sara with an array of questions that she looked too overwhelmed by the end of your tour.

You’ve covered almost everything for the day and it’s already around 6 in the evening when you get on a bus on the way back to Miyagi.

“That was fun!” you comment ardently with an abnormal shine on your face when you sit down on the bus on the way back. He wears his headphones on before you start a conversation he’s not willing to have. From his peripheral, he sees you turning to him and as he predicted, your mouth begins moving while you animatedly narrate words he could not hear.

He’s already acting as if he can’t hear nor see you, but you still don’t stop. Knowing you, you will not stop until you make sure he notices you. He wearily removes his headphones only to see you not saying anything and only mouthing words with hand gestures.

“Seriously?” He scowls at you. He’s already exhausted at having to deal with you even for just half a day, but you still have the energy to mess with him.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker but it erupts into a hoot of laughter shortly. You gasp ridiculously after you ride out your stupid amusement from poking at his patience. “Tsukki, I swear to God. You make the best faces,” you say while wiping away your joyous tears.

“Were you even going to say something worth listening to?” he questions sourly.

You study him then shake your head. “I think you’re tired, so let’s just discuss what we gathered next time. You can go ignore me now,” you tell him with an understanding smile despite the slight banter.

You tilt your body in his direction and hoist yourself up a bit to put his headphones back yourself like it’s no big deal.

You settle back into your seat while he stills on his seat, stunned with what you just did while you get your readings again and shrink to your own bubble. You don’t seem to make anything of it, so he doesn’t as well. It was very you to mindlessly get on anyone’s — particularly his — personal space anyways.

He increases the volume of his headphones and tries to relax. Yet, his attention keeps swerving back at you every now and then. You’re really concentrating hard with your brows burrowed while you stare at your hand-outs. After a while, he notices you bobbing your head from the corners of his eyes.

He can tell you’re as tired as he is and trying hard to fight the sleep that’s taking over you. The bunch of papers you previously held are now clutched on your lap.

On the last bob of your head, you snap out of it. You blink repeatedly and return your eyes to your readings again. To no avail, you’re shutting down with your eyes fluttering when you try again. You look like you decided to give it a rest and put your papers back in your bag. You cross your arms and lean back to your seat.

He feels relieved that you finally yield to your physical exhaustion. He doesn’t need an additional bullet point to his list of why he can’t fully hate you. Also, you won’t run your mouth at him if you’re asleep.

He feels the soft thump of your head on his shoulder. You probably did too as you suddenly bolt up and tell him ‘sorry' which he only understands based on how you mouthed the word. You lean back again and try to settle back to sleep. But when you start dozing off, you sway to the other side of your seat which is the aisle of the bus.

He grabs your shoulder to prevent you from tumbling down to the aisle. Your disoriented self looks around, alarmed at his sudden touch.

“Just fucking lean on me,” he spits out, irked that he has to say it out loud. It’s not like he pushed you away. You could’ve just stayed as you were and he would’ve turned a blind eye at it out of recognition of the effort you put in today. He’d just consider it one of those times that you do something annoying and he just ignores you as a response.

You regard him with dazed eyes. You open your mouth as if you’re about to say something but decide against it as you shut your eyes again and you let your head rest on his shoulder. But even then, your head still falls forward from time to time. He puts a hand on your forehead to settle you back on his shoulder and slides a bit downward on his seat to accommodate you.

Jesus Christ, you can study in a moving vehicle but can’t even do a simple thing like sleep properly on it. Why does he even have to adjust for you?

He heaves furiously in contrast to your steady breathing, letting him know that you’re easing deeper to your sleep.

He distracts himself by looking at the window, witnessing the unmoving dark sky and the changing scenery below. He lets out a sigh.

Maybe he should’ve just accepted the ten point deduction.

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

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#tsukishima x reader #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #tsukishima kei #for the love of kami-sama #pls let the tags work

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