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sweet-s0rr0w · 2 years ago

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I’m back with a follow up to last year’s Valentine's Day reclist, featuring a whole new cast and crew of Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans!

Once again, the question was: ‘what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?’ and to make things even harder, no duplicates from last year were allowed. I’m absolutely thrilled yet again with the vast range of fics chosen, many of which I wasn’t familiar with myself, and would urge all of you romantics to check them out!

Featuring answers from academicdisasterfic, babooshkart, bluebutter-art, booktopus, caroll-in, cavendishbutterfly, citrusses, crazybutgood, emmalovesdilemmas, epitomereally, geesenoises, getawayfox, ghaniblue, gryffindorhearts, kbrick, lettersbyelise, makeitp1nk, moonflower-rose, mxlfoydraco, oknowkiss, sleepstxtic, sorrybutblog, wolfpants

Like last time, those fics which did come up more than once are in red, and I let people have more than two, or poly fics, or art if they wanted because I’m still a softie!

***

@academicdisasterfic

💗Running on Air by @tinyhistory (T, 75k)

It's easy to lust after someone, to match their face to a missed heartbeat or a sharp intake of breath. It's easy to say, I want them because of the colour of their eyes, the lines of their body. It's something else entirely to say, I want them because of the way they rest their hands on a steering wheel, the way they gaze out a window, the way they say my name.

💗Relic Radiation by @tackytigerfic (M, 1k)

The screen blinked red around the edges, a countdown, and Draco leaned in even closer and said, “I mean literally. I’m on your side of the planet right now. And I’m coming back down soon, remember. I mean, I have to. But I would anyway. Just hold on for me?”

@babooshkart

💗Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54k)

“You drive me mad, Potter, you –”

It’s mutual, Harry thinks gladly, tearing at Draco’s flies. He feels mad, like an idiot, like a reckless thoughtless – but here’s the mindless joy of Draco’s mouth on his, and Harry falls into it, falls and falls until he forgets he’s falling, and stops wondering if he’ll ever land.

@bluebutter-art

💗Dear Stranger by @iero0 (T, 23k)

“I want you to hold me,” Draco says, and adds, “I want to hold you,” because he doesn’t know which one is truer. It starts like a hug Draco would see between mates. But Potter clings to him and rests his head on Draco’s shoulder. He has never realised that the other man is a few centimetres shorter than him, but Draco can comfortably nestle his face in Potter’s hair, redolent of cedarwood and vanilla, and urge his face closer to his neck until he feels Potter’s nose and his stubble not against his robe but against his skin. These broad shoulders that appear so unyielding melt to Draco’s touch.

(also just every time Harry writes "I hope you had a reason to smile today" in his letters to Draco)

@thebooktopus

💗Glowing by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 9.7k)

“It’s been so good with you,” Draco said. “It’s been easy. I don’t have to think about it around you, I can just be.”

💗Develop, Stop and Fix by @onbeinganangel (E, 15k)

It’s the face that surprises Draco the most, not one he’s ever seen in the mirror. It’s a soft expression, half surprise, half adoration, a small shy smile playing at his lips. Draco might have been in love even then, if that face is anything to go by.

@caroll-in

💗Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, with art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)

Harry takes Draco's hand. "I don't know. I liked the way you cared for me. You showed up and you just wanted what I have to offer. I don't have to be anything else for you."

@cavendishbutterfly

💗the way you make me glow by @softlystarstruck (M, 11k)

“Mate,” Ron says. Harry turns to them, finding their clear blue gaze already on him. “I don’t think anyone could care about Draco better than you do.”

Wrong, Harry signs out of shock, his cheeks flushing with heat. Ron shakes their head emphatically, their glowing halo wobbling in its Suspension charm. “And I don’t think anyone else could care for you the way that Draco does.” Harry drops his hands, at a loss for any words, whether spoken or signed.

💗Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by onbeinganangel, with art by @babooshkart (E, 10k)

Right in that moment, this is everything Harry has ever wanted. Draco is, in bed, the same he is with Other Harry in every other way. Gentle, full of praise. His hand grabs a hip — firmly, but his thumb never stops rubbing the skin under, he runs his hand through Other Harry’s hair — passionately, but he bends down to press a kiss to his temple as he does.

@citrusses

💗The Four Doors by @fluxweeed (E, 49k)

“I can’t believe we just did that.” Malfoy’s voice was awed.

“I know,” Harry agreed fervently. “I never thought you would actually – It feels like I’ve been wanting it forever.”

At that, Malfoy let out a snort of laughter. “It’s been a few weeks, you said?”

“But I can only remember five and a half months,” Harry countered. “So, percentage-wise, that’s a good chunk.” “Even percentage-wise, it’s still no contest.”

Malfoy’s eyes glittered. “Finally, I’ve beaten you at something.”

💗9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl (E, 70k)

Draco’s hair flew in the wind. His robes flapped, as green as the young barley. ‘I’ll survive. I know how to do that. I’ll do anything to have more time with you. One day.’

‘I’ll burn the world down if I have to,’ Harry said.

A sad smile. ‘I know you would.’

@crazybutgood

💗A Kind of Dwell and Welcome by @rainbees (T, 22k)

(the whole fic, for poetic writing and great feels and Austen vibes)

@emmalovesdilemmas

💗The Seventh Life by @corvuscrowned (E, 18k)

“I love you,” Harry said quietly. He said it more like a realization than a confession, like he was surprised by it, like he wanted to taste the words. “I love you more than anything else this life could offer.”

Draco believed that Harry believed it. Draco pulled him into a slow, lazy kiss, indulgently long and exploratory and sweet. It wasn’t the fucking he had missed the most — it was these kisses, the way they fit so perfectly together. It was Harry’s arms around him. It was the quiet of the night, and those slow, peaceful breaths, and that heartbeat behind any chest Draco could find it in.

💗Eager for the Sky by oknowkiss (M, 35k)

“We were chopping veg for dinner one day and he told me that when my mum was pregnant my dad would cut her fruit, every day, whatever she wanted. He’d have Sirius running halfway across London — because they were stuck in Godric’s Hollow, you remember I told you — and then whatever Sirius brought, my dad would cut it into little pieces, and he’d arrange it on a plate and bring it to her.”

Potter sighed, finally looking up. “Sirius said it was the only time in my dad’s life he was ever careful,” Potter swallowed thickly. “He wanted her to have all the best parts.”

“Harry—” Draco tried.

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted this,” Potter said, looking away again, pulling Draco forward with the downward cast of his eyes. “I just wanted—I wanted to say—and you’d never had it—I thought—”

“Harry—”

“I’m not saying I’m like, in love with you, or anything,” Potter said, all in a rush, his cheeks gone red.

“Merlin, no,” Draco agreed.

@epitomereally

💗Code Name L by GallaPlacidia (32k, download here)

“Did you know that most figs have dead wasps inside them? Something to do with the wasps pollinating them, crawling inside them, and dying. The fig digests the wasp body, then we eat the figs. I really fucking hate wasps. I really fucking love figs. I don’t think, like, “I love every part of this fig except for the dead wasp.” The dead wasp was, in fact, a necessary part of making the fig. It’s completely part of the fig. And I love the fig completely.”

💗Take the Moon by tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

"Draco.” He slid his hand across the trolley handle so it met Draco’s on the other side, their little fingers nudging on the plastic. “No matter what, no matter where, I want you with me. How did you never notice that?”

and

“Babies should grow up knowing how loved they are,” Harry said, feeling wretched. “That’s the only thing that matters, that they know they’re loved. But with you, I’m greedy. I’m selfish, Draco. I want you to love me back so badly that I can actually feel it in my body. It's like, the way I want you could take me over and I wouldn’t even care. I thought that you must know, that everyone must see it in me. I never imagined that you didn't realise."

@geesenoises

💗A Bottomless Well by @teledild0nix (E, 10k)

"I think I'm feeling it," Draco says foolishly when he's shaken off the distraction of exactly how marvellously pond-coloured Harry's eyes are.

"Me too," Harry leans in and kisses him. It's lovely, and Draco thinks he might live in this kiss, the stove at his back and Harry pressed to his front, cupping one still cold hand to his cheek, the back of his head, whispering cool fingertips against the back of his neck. But Harry draws back, and Draco realises with sudden clarity that there's a well of this contentment, this joy and affection he feels are drawn up from a well inside him with no bottom. However much he draws up, there'll always be more when he wants it.

@getawayfox

💗Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)

💗if you've changed your mind by warmfoothills (E, 20k)

💗Paper Rings by lettersbyelise (E, 50k)

💗Finely Drawn Lines by @the-sinking-ship (E, 42k)

@ghaniblue

💗Licurici by @lou-isfake (Drarry x Charlie, E, 133k)

Harry had fallen asleep between them, as usual, his limbs tangled up in them like roots, his breath soft and warm on Charlie’s skin.

💗Foundations by saras_girl (E, 236k)

Harry doesn’t even mind that Draco always acts like he’s just decided to casually drop in ‘on his way back’ from St Mungo’s every Saturday, even though they both know perfectly well that Grimmauld Place is no more ‘on the way’ to Wiltshire than Edinburgh is on the way to Venezuela.

He knows exactly what it means, incorporating Draco into his outside-of-work routines, and it feels scary and risky and warm and just like it fits. He also thinks he knows better than to push Draco into any sort of overt declaration of intention, and it’s OK, because he’ll be here, Harry knows he will.

💗Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered (T, 154k)

"[...]I loved you—all through it. Do you understand? I loved all of you.”

@gryffindorhearts

💗Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)

“That’s you. I think… I hope I got it right,” he says. There is really no way Harry got it right, but Draco flips the lid open and… stares.

@kbrick

💗More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)

“Do you love me too?” Potter asked.

It dawned on Draco then that Potter might not actually know, that he might have been as lost and confused about the whole thing as Draco had been. Potter who had described how love was just a story with a drawn out ending, who sometimes looked at Draco like he knew exactly what he was thinking. It hadn’t occurred to Draco.

“Of course I do, you enormous prat,” Draco said, feeling his face heat up and his throat tighten. He wasn’t just sad, and he wasn’t just happy, he was in a kind of ecstasy in between that. “I don’t know how you qualify to teach children when you’re so dense.”

@lettersbyelise

💗Stop All The Clocks (This Is the Last Time I'm Leaving Without You) by firethesound (E, 45k)

“Potter,” Draco sighed. He finished spreading jam on the piece of toast and handed it to Harry, then licked a smudge of jam from between his thumb and index finger. “You know, when you love someone you should always cut their toast in triangles.”

Harry frowned at him. “Triangles? But what’s that got to do with…” He trailed off and looked down at the toast in his hand. “You… But you’ve always cut my toast in triangles.” He couldn’t remember a time when Draco hadn’t.

“And I’ve always loved you,” Draco said simply. “You’re it for me, Potter.”

💗A Private Reason For This by @femmequixotic (E, 92k)

“For nearly half a year, they’d fought and fucked and fought again until, in the middle of a night of blindingly intense coupling that’s left Draco shaky and light as a feather, he’d been a complete idiot and whispered those words he’d been thinking into Potter’s ear as he came.”

💗so rest your weary heart with me by bluebutter-art (M, art)

it takes a storytelling master to express the depth of Harry and Draco’s connection without writing a word. The support and solace they find in each other after the war, panel after pitch-perfect panel, will warm your heart and make you fall in love with those two all over again.

@makeitp1nk

💗Our Little Life by tackytigerfic (M, 7.3k)

“Henri,” Malfoy said, and the concerned little crease between his eyes deepened as he looked down at Harry. “Myne owne hertis rote,” Malfoy said quietly, and real-Harry didn’t know how he understood, but he did—and in that one suspended dream moment, he was so glad to be able to understand, and he wanted Malfoy to say it all again, so badly—and he smiled at Malfoy, almost unable to help himself, real-Harry dimly horrified at himself for it but dream-Harry just allowing himself to do it, and enjoying it.

💗knead, then let rise by softlystarstruck (T, 7.2k)

“I’m telling you that I try to make everyone believe I can handle anything.” Turning to face Harry, Draco’s mouth is impossibly close and his sunhat throws Harry’s face into shade, a moment of shared respite. “I’m telling you that no one else has taken me to the sea, and no one else has made me a dark chocolate cake from scratch for my birthday, and I’ve never had someone who wanted to make bread with me before, and–” Draco breaks off, twisting his mouth fitfully but holding Harry’s gaze. “I’m telling you I’m rather delicate, all things considered, and I don’t know what exactly you’re doing to me but it isn’t fair.”

💗Let Me Count The Ways by booktopus (E, 3.6k)

Harry’s love is in his actions.

@moonflower-rose

💗Is This Love? by @phdmama (E, 3.9k)

“Harry’s smile is full with everything he’s feeling, and it’s all right there on his face, but he still sounds tentative as he says, “You make me feel loved.”

“Well,” Draco swallows and his voice cracks on the words he’s never said before.“That’s probably because I love you,” and then Harry kisses him again.”

@mxlfoydraco

💗A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

Draco is floating and high on Harry’s happiness, and he wonders if Harry even notices that with a single expression he so easily and exquisitely destroys Draco. He wonders if Harry can hear the thunderous heartbeat pounding in his chest, heralding Draco’s downfall.

and

Draco had always imagined that it would be some dazzling, sweeping emotion that would overtake him and make him see fireworks when he fell in love, but he’s surprised to find how the feeling is more like a small flame catching the edge of a page and slowly but surely spreading to every corner until there’s no part that hasn’t been enveloped in it.

@oknowkiss

💗heavyweights by warmfoothills (E, 29k)

“What now?” Potter doesn’t look worried, his gaze level as it meets Draco’s, a flash of something odd, too happy and young in his eyes. Draco has no clue. Short term, they should probably get off the rooftop before Draco’s fingers go completely numb. Long term, he should probably start calling Potter by his first name. The idea of it doesn’t really make his stomach twist uncomfortably anymore.

He shrugs, the movement of it made lopsided by the way Potter is pressed so closely against his left side. He doesn’t tell Potter that he might be in love with him, but he thinks maybe Potter gets that something has once again shifted and settled between them, hopefully for the last time. For now it feels ok to just stay here for a bit, Draco’s home spread out below him. Maybe sort of pressed right next to him as well.

@sleepstxtic

💗Contretemps by moonflower-rose (T, 8k)

(This one is so light and funny and such an effortlessly lovely read. I love all the works of this author, and was lucky enough to be able to gift them a fic for Erised myself. This one has to be my favourite fic of theirs, though. Just, such a delight.)

💗Tapestry by kbrick (E, 91k)

(This is a *masterpiece*. I still haven't gotten it together long enough to give this fic the comment it deserves BUT it was such a stunning, unputdownable read and I recommend it as a must-read to everyone.)

💗Game... Set... Malfoy by nanneramma (M, 2k)

(Might be biased because this one was a gift for me but IT'S SO GOOD and I really do feel like it's one of those underrated, hidden gem type fics. It's Draco and Harry playing tennis and it's *hilarious* and so wonderfully written and I just love it so, so much.)

💗Strangeness and Charm by feelsforbreakfast (E, 46k)

(This is an old one but it's AMAZING. I have no words, just one of those ethereal, dreamy classics.)

💗In the Company of Serpents by @corvuscrowned (E, 25k)

(Another *incredible* fic by corvus. Such a unique concept and the prose is so soft and flowy and pretty. An instant fav of mine.)

@sorrybutblog

💗The July Tree by oknowkiss (E, 51k)

“I love you,” Draco repeated.

“Oh,” Harry said. His eyes had gone wide as saucers.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Draco asked, trying not to wince at how needy it sounded.

“I—I’m just—yeah,” Harry said. He shook his head. “Sorry, yes. I love you,” he said. He was smiling and sniffling and sort of huffing out laughs, looking totally deranged, as he said again, “I love you. I love you so much. I’m like, really angry about it, actually.”

“Not angrier than I am, I assure you. I can’t believe you’ve made me love you so fast,” Draco said, wiping the tears off Harry’s cheeks with his thumbs, which he then dried on the stupid sweatshirt. “This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

💗Such Great Heights by aideomai (E, 93k)

"I'll try," Harry said, shocked into honesty in the early hours of the morning. "Okay? I'Il try. For you," and Draco let out a shivery little breath and pressed himself in closer against Harry's body, like they could fold into each other and into the shadow and just stay like this forever.

"You drive me crazy," Malfoy mumbled again. "You always have."

"I know," Harry said. "I know. Come on," and they went upstairs together, slow and tired, pressing into every corner they found to kiss.

@wolfpants

💗Countdown to a Life by tackytigerfic (E, 3.5k)

(I think this fic is absolutely phenomenal - I go back and read it often. It leaves me breathless every time, an absolute masterclass in Drarry friends to lovers perfection. Every emotion just leaps off the page. It's a very short fic but by the end I feel like I know them fully.)

💗Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (M, 15k)

(God how I love this fic. It gets to the very core of what I love about Drarry - epic romance that's still so tender and perfectly characterised. Just lush.)

#drarry #valentines recs #ss recs #what a list #what a fandom #this took forever as tumblr kept glitching #the banner flower is weirdly meat-like but i really can't change it now #anyway hope it doesn't creep anyone out

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ijustwannawritesomething · 2 years ago

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The Tailor's Son - Part 2

Alejandro X Rudy - rated T - idiots to lovers - canon divergence - Alejandro isn't from Las Almas but he falls in love with the city and Rudy anyways Full story on AO3 because it's pretty long.

<< Part 1 >> Part 3

Life is good.

The construction site is busy, Rodolfo denies the apartment the military offers him and moves back into his childhood bedroom. It’s a delight.

Now it’s him who makes his family breakfast and after he takes Elena to school. Their little monkey is still shy and doesn’t speak much. She clings to Rodolfo and he takes her everywhere the older kids have taken him when he was little whenever he has the time.

The mountains are dangerous now, and every kid in Las Almas knows you shouldn’t go to the river alone. The school is bigger, reconstructed, and they mostly hang around the streets now, where the Cartel has easy access to them.

Sometimes Rodolfo drives Elena when he heads out to the compound, windows rolled down, horrible pop music playing from her phone. He knows she likes that he’s the only other quiet kid the Parra family has. Rodolfo never bothers her with too many questions or tries to get her to speak.

When Elena’s in school he checks on his father in his shop.

More often than not he gets roped into helping him one way or another. He has taught Rodolfo to sew as he did all of his kids, though he tells Rodolfo the military has made him too rough. Still he lets him sew button holes.

If he’s not with his family or the compound he roams the streets of Las Almas, greets old friends and makes new ones, speaks to the kids in the streets and kneels down next to elders who tell him stories he’s heard a hundred times before.

“I know this is your home.” Vargas bites out one day when he arrives a few minutes before lunch. ”But this isn’t a vacation.”

Rodolfo smiles softly at his Commander. There is a lot of hurry up and wait going on, running security for the compound slowly shreds Vargas’ nerves it seems.

“You don’t understand.” He replies with a soft smile.

“No I don’t.” Vargas replies harshly.

“You will.” Rodolfo says, not elaborating because he knows it annoys Vargas.

What Rodolfo is doing is slowly taking back his city, weaseling his way back into the nooks and cracks the cancer of the Cartel hasn’t reached yet. The outpost will need the town's support or else they might fully subscribe to the Cartel. Vargas will understand, in time.

A few days later, Vargas gets a glimpse of what it means to live in Las Almas.

They get a report of civilians at the gate, the first thing to be constructed and comically useless amid the rest of temporary homes and containers.

“I’ll handle it.” Rodolfo says, gladly leaving the stuffy tent. Vargas, in a terrible mood all morning, follows him, his steps angry and his shoulders ready for trouble.

“Rudy!” The youngest of the five men shouts as they approach.

“Narvaez!” He calls back.

“Is that the Parras boy?” Fernando Hernandez has asked the question. He’s almost ninety and he once taught Rodolfo how to fish. While his hearing is still excellent his eyesight is getting worse. Vargas diverts to the guards at the gate, weary but not alarmed. All the men in the beat up truck are older than fifty, dads looking to evaluate the construction site if anything. They don’t mean trouble.

Rodolfo is greeted by hugs and slaps on the back. All fathers - grandfathers now - from his neighborhood, curious.

“Ai, Rudy, you have grown.” Matias remarks, now looking up at him.

Rodolfo grins.

“What are you building there, boy?” Fernando asks, walking closer on his stick.

“A military base.” He says and offers his arm to the old man. With a nod of his head he beckons the men to follow him. There isn’t much there yet, nothing classified to see. The airfield has been completed first, the administrative building and barracks can be recognised if you know what you’re looking at.

As he leads them through the open gate, Vargas approaches them, sunglasses tucked in his dress shirt, and an unreadable expression on his face.

“This is Colonel Vargas,” he introduces. “Colonel, this is Fernando Hernandez. He was our carpenter.”

Vargas shakes the old man’s hand and they hold on a little too long, staring at one another. Hernandez has been a pillar of the community ever since, weary of the Cartel and outsider activity.

As quick as Vargas is to anger, the easy he is to pacify.

These men aren’t spies or Cartel.

They are Rodolfo’s people, the people of Las Almas. The people he wants to work with in the future. The people he wants to protect.

Suddenly his bright smile is back and he gladly shakes hands and gives them a better tour over the compound than he has given high brass.

That night he wordlessly slaps the working material for beginner English into Rodolfo’s chest.

...

His mother brings home gossip.

Of course she does.

Las Almas is wooed by the handsome Colonel who was seen in town just yesterday. Even Fernando Hermanz had seemed impressed. Maybe they should invite him to dinner some time? The other women want Rodolfo to ask if he’s married, as no ring has been spotted thus far.

Rodolfo grins into his cereal bowl, sitting on the living room floor in front of the TV in just a t-shirt and boxers as if he was twelve. For the first time he feels like the whole outpost idea could be a good one.

…

“Rodolfo!” Lula wails and throws herself dramatically onto the counter of his father’s shop. “Say something!”

“She looks lovely, no?” Rodolfo says with a smile and a wink at Isabella who is standing on the little stool while he pins the hem of her dress. It’s a family heirloom, taken in and hemmed many, many times over the years and despite her aunt’s protests, Isabella wishes to wear it. Her mother has worn it to Maria’s wedding, he recognises it from the pictures.

“But it makes her look-”

“Be quiet!” her sister chides and swats her with her purse.

It’s a sunday afternoon and he has found himself once more in his father’s shop, making the small adjustments on the dress while his father helps another customer in the front part of the shop. He can hear two men speak but hasn’t had a chance to glance through the curtain. The women of the Castro family usually bring gossip and drama; he’d never admit it, but he loves each of the three women who are grandmother, mother and aunt but don’t look more than five years apart, lips painted in red, dark hair prettily done, nails long and sharp. Isabella will inherit their timeless beauty no doubt, though many tears had been shed at the bleached buzz cut she now sports.

“It’s the Colonel.” Yesenia whispers with a conspiratorial grin at her youngest, Isabella’s aunt, married and divorced five times, all to men in the big city. Lula perks up from the counter that is used to cut fabrics and smoothes out her dress.

Her mother closes the curtain that separates them from the sale floor and eyes her daughter critically.

“Rudy!” Lula hisses. “Tell me about him.”

“Don’t tell her about him.” Isabella giggles.

“He’s your Colonel, right?”

“He’s not my Colonel.” Rodolfo says, his back turned towards the adult women as he stands and grins at Isabella who giggles.

“You know what I mean, Parra!” Lula hisses in the same tone she had used to make him hand over his homework or switch channels.

He sticks a pin back into the cushion onto his arm and offers his hand to Isabella, who steps down and twirls.

“It’s perfect, Rudy! Thank you!”

He smiles at her and lets her family flock around to inspect what he adjusted so far. While they fuss around her he steps towards the curtain and glances at his father who wraps up taking measurements, no doubt he will step towards the counter on the other side of the curtain to place the Colonel’s order.

Alejandro Vargas looks like he belongs in his father’s shop, dress shoes, slacks and white button down with the top one undone, his hair a bit more loose than he usually gels it for work.

He’s a handsome man and Las Almas hopes to make this bachelor stay.

Lula slams into him, nails digging in his arm, following his gaze.

“He’s mine, Parra!” She threatens.

“He’s my coworker.” He replies, offended.

“Three of my husbands were my coworkers, too.”

Rodolfo swallows a snide remark and turns back to Isabella.

“Can’t you do something about her chest?” Grandma Castro asks, her hands gesturing towards her own voluptuous bosom.

“Grandma!” Isabella whines, her own mother torn between outrage and support.

“I am just saying, with hair like a boy we need to make sure you can find a nice young man…” she trails off and smiles guilty at Rodolfo. He presses his lips together; the elders of Las Almas mean no harm, yet they don’t always understand.

Colonel Alejandro Vargas thanks his father sincerely, suit jacket thrown over his left arm as he grasps Rodolfo’s father’s hand in both of his.

The tailor’s son turns away from the curtain to help Isabella out of the dress.

...

The base comes together quite nicely.

Rodolfo’s English… not so much.

Still he powers through the lessons, not for him, not for Vargas but for Las Almas. His home.

If learning a stupid second language means he can stay where his heart lies a little longer, he’ll do it.

He studies at his mother’s kitchen table when he’s not at the base. She has to wipe away a few tears with her apron at the sight of her once small boy now all grown up. Elena teases him, her English surprisingly good.

“ I think that’s stupid .” he tells Vargas with a horrible accent the next time the Colonel makes an outrageous demand. The kids would definitely not give up the dirt field where he himself grew up playing all sorts of games. The kids of Las Almas need the space more than the base needs parking lots.

Vargas stares at him for a moment, then barks out a laugh. “Looks like you’re ready for the next conference with brass.”

...

“I think I get what you meant about Las Almas.” Vargas tells him one afternoon.

They sit in the bare brickwork which will house their offices one day. It’s remotely cooler than their tent, though they don’t have electricity yet to set up the fans they have in the tents.

Rodolfos says nothing, just raises his eyebrows and fans himself with the stack of papers he should be reading.

No matter how often Vargas goes toe to toe with their superiors, they love him enough to let him pick the base’s crew. Now they’re rifling through various files to pick and choose who would move in with them in three months.

“Las Almas has a really tight knit community. Everyone knows everyone.”

Rodolfo nods in agreement.

“It was good to let the men inspect the base. They’re much friendlier now. And if we want to fight against the Cartel, we need the town’s support. We need to show them we care.”

I care . Rodolfo thinks. There is no point arguing with an outsider, Vargas has yet to take bags of cocaine out of tiny children’s hands before he sends them back to their mothers. But the Colonel is on a good track.

Vargas opens another file, then snorts. He closes the file again and looks up at Rodolfo, grinning.

“It reminds me a bit of my family. The tailor apparently has a son, it seems like the whole town is keen to finally get him married. Very handsome from what I’ve been told.”

Rodolfo makes a noncommittal noise.

“You know him?”

“The tailor?”

“Yes.”

Vargas' eyes betray him, he gives him a critical once-over, Rodolfos worn out sweater does not speak for him owning any fancy menswear.

“I know his son better.” He adds, just because he can.

“The handsome son everyone wants to get married to?”

“Yes.”

“Heard he’s in the army as well.”

“He is.”

“Might put a request in for him?” Vargas hums. “Might be glad working closer to home.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Rodolfo says, finding his water bottle painfully empty, using the excuse. He won’t leave Vargas in the dark for too long, he’s too nice for that. Vargas lets the kids skate on the new and smooth asphalt of the base and that alone gives him enough points to be invited to one of the Friday night meals of his quarter.

Rodolfo just wants to enjoy the prank his village has pulled on the newcomer a bit longer.

…

Isabella looks marvelous.

His father is pleased Rodolfo still knows how to mark alterations on dresses. Since the dress is older than Rodolfo and Isabella together his father has done the honor of altering it, fearing for the delicate fabric in Rodolfo’s rough hands.

Rodolfo on the other hand finds using a sewing machine as natural as using a gun. He knows all the movements by heart, yet he’s glad his father has made exceptional work, the dress ready to be worn by another generation of proud Las Almas women.

Isabella’s grandmother and grandfather look around the front of the shop, Lula absent.

Isabella’s mother has tears in her eyes, as a mother should. Rodolfo smiles at them, swirling slightly on the backless chair his father keeps around for short breaks he needs more and more often now.

The bell of the shop doesn’t take away from Isabella marveling herself in the mirror, her grandmother’s pearls around her neck. It’s a bit much for a graduation, but she’s the only Castro child and Las Almas likes to go over the top for its children.

“Rodolfo, would you?” His father asks, eyes damp. Surely he thinks of Elena and if he’ll ever have the honor of tailoring a wedding dress for her.

“Sure, papa .” He says, rises and presses a kiss on his father’s temple. How his mother and father have children who tower over them by at least one head is a miracle to most people.

“Ah, Colonel!” Grandmother Castro says loudly, a sign for her daughter to text Lula to get to the shop as soon as possible if she wants to be the one to bag the latest bachelor. “What brings you here?”

“Picking up my order.” Vargas is comfortable, confident. While he is an outsider he’s open and welcoming and Las Almas reciprocates.

“Then you might be in luck, my daughter will be here shortly. You haven’t had the chance to meet yet, right?”

Vultures . Rodolfo thinks amused at the Castro’s less than subtle attempts to matchmake.

A privilege that comes with age , his mother had once told him. He can’t wait for the target to be off his back if he’s honest. Most well meaning elders haven’t stopped introducing him to daughters and granddaughters, no, they added sons and grandsons to the list, much to Rodolfo’s dismay.

José had been empathetic, his Job as doctor in the big city made him equally popular at gatherings.

“No. But I had rather hoped to run into the tailor’s son one day. Heard a lot about him already.”

The statement hangs heavily in the air, the clock ticking loudly while laughter and chatter from the streets filter through the thin glass into the shop.

The Castro grandparents catch on, catch themselves with more grace than Rodolfo has imagined. Yet they share an irritated glance.

“Oh, why, yes, Rodolfo is a very handsome young man. But haven’t you seen him-” Grandfather Castro starts, just as Vargas echoes: “Rodolfo?”

The tailor’s son takes this as his sign to resolve the situation.

He steps through the curtains that parts his father’s shop.

“Colonel.” He greets.

“Parra.” Vargas scrunches his eyebrows together, shoving the sunglasses he’s just taken off into the breast pocket of his shirt.

“You didn’t know our Rodolfo was the tailor’s son?” Grandmother Castro asks, her grip around her husband's arm white. The whole town would know by nightfall. The bachelorettes would be devastated by what the Castros had discovered.

“I did not.” Vargas admits. His eyes gleam in a way that tells Rodolfo he’s won several laps around the base.

“Would you like to try on your new suit?” He asks instead, turning towards the closet to pick out the dark blue masterpiece his father has created.

“With pleasure.”

...

Rodolfo tests the weight of the backpack, finding it adequate and heaving it onto his shoulders.

“Ready, Colonel?”

Vargas grunts. He wears his combat trousers and a worn out shirt, sunglasses in place. He has rolled up the sleeves a bit, a testimony to his fashion sense. Where Rodolfo looks like a soldier, he looks like a model wearing soldier’s clothing.

Rodolfo has promised him to show him around the mountains and Elena is waiting at the gate of the almost finished base.

People from the town have been urged to apply to become staff already, Rodolfo himself has made rounds through the different quarters, advertising the military benefits.

“My sister.” He introduces Elena who is a lanky teen, yet she shares the dark hair and solid presence of her brothers.

“My pleasure.” Vargas says and nods.

And thus the tour begins. Elena knows most of what Rodolfo tells the Colonel, always a few steps ahead but never out of sight.

„We used to smoke weed here.“ Rodolfo says and nudges the leftovers of old campfires in a nook in the stone wall. „Or cigarettes, whatever we would come by.“

Vargas snorts.

„Didn’t take you for a rule breaker.“

„It’s not rule breaking if it’s never forbidden.“

He knows the Colonel rolls his eyes.

They continue the trail, the way much shorter than child-Rodolfo remembers. His small legs used to burn from the exhaustion and heat, now he hardly breaks a sweat despite the midday sun.

They pass some more landmarks, the best spot to watch the sunset, the spot where Mateo has broken both of his arms.

Finally they arrive at a steep cliff, water gurgling underneath.

„And what is here?“ Vargas asks.

„Here.“ Rodolfo says, puts the backpack down and unties his shoes. „Here we jump.“

...

Half of the men and women who arrive at the base are former Fuerza Especiales, Vargas knows them all by name and they fit right in.

They’re far from being complete, but it’s nice to have others around.

Keeps the Colonels searching eyes off of him.

…

Rodolfo travels back to the fort he is still officially stationed at until the Las Almas base is completed. He takes his English test in a stuffy room with a pen that doesn’t write more often than it does. The Sergeant who collects the paper and determines whether or not he passes, winces at most of Rodolfo‘s answers.

„Well.“ he says and slams several stamps onto his paperwork. „Not the best work I’ve seen, but…” he shrugs and hands the certificate over. “Send the Colonel my regards.”

Rodolfo is sure he’s only passed because of Varga’s death stare, but he is content to be the second in command of his home. He’s happy because it feels like all the pieces have fallen into place.

...

“You should organize a party. Invite the village.” Rodolfo tells Vargas as they shower.

The washrooms have been completed first, at the team’s request, their voices echoing through the otherwise empty room.

Vargas hits the button of the shower again, cold water splashing down.

“Why.”

“Why not?”

Vargas groans.

“It’s important to the people.” Rodolfo elaborates. “We’re in their home.” He says we , even though he still considers Vargas an outsider.

“Parra.” Vargas sighs and joins Rodolfo at the low benches in front of the open shelves where they keep their things. “I respect your opinion but I don’t see how inviting your town is appropriate.”

“Oh,” Rodolfo grins, drying his hair with a towel his mother has sent. “I’ll show you.”

…

Rodolfo finally moves out of his childhood bedroom for the second time, Elena glad for the additional space. With four kids, privacy was usually a luxury few Las Almas families could afford.

He paints the room with her, his father watching from the kitchen door. He’s not a handy man, but he has made them lemonade and snacks and that’s enough.

…

“Your Colonel.” Maria begins. Rodolfo has long accepted that Vargas will be an extension of him. At least in the eyes of Las Almas.

“My Colonel?” Rodolfo prompts, his face nuzzled in the fine baby hair of his sleeping godchild.

“Bring him around one day, yes?”

Rodolfo hums.

…

“Now you’re just the only gay man in the regiment.” Vargas grins and slaps the paperwork for Rodolfo to sign on the table. “Fluent in spoken and written English.”

“A lie.” Rodolfo says as he clicks his pen. He hopes we won’t have to speak his new language for a while.

“My mother will want to celebrate.”

“As she should.”

“We could throw a party, celebrate the base and my promotion.”

“You’re not letting up with this party idea.”

Rodolfo shrugs and stuffs the papers back into the envelope to mail them back.

“It’s for the people.”

“The people.”

“Our people.”

Vargas hums.

…

Vargas jumps.

Rodolfo has had a 70:30 bet going on with himself whether or not he’d do it.

All the younger kids are taught to jump as a rite of passage. At least they were when the mountains and the river were still safe. Rodolfo has promised Elena to do it, keep it secret from their parents. Now, both she and Vargas will become children of the valley.

He’s done explaining to Elena to keep her legs straight and not to be afraid, throwing the waterproof backpack down first. He jumped a few days earlier after checking the depth and has deemed it safe.

“See you on the other side.” He grins at the Colonel as he steps towards the cliff with his baby sister. He jumps first, then Elena who yelps. Rodolfos swims toward her, catching her arm to keep her safe from the strong current.

Vargas hesitates a moment, then jumps as well.

“Just like in basic.” He coughs as he resurfaces.

Rodolfo pulls both of them in, knocking their foreheads together.

“Now,” he proclaims solemnly. “You’re adults.”

…

Vargas turns heads wherever he goes.

He goes to the mini market at 9am every Saturday which has more and more women line up, just to “enjoy the view” as Lula has put it, her plunging neckline telling a different story.

He’s dressed a bit nicer than everyone else, casual slacks, dress shirts or plain T-shirts which still give the impression they’re of better quality than the usual store bought clothes. Rodolfo’s father appreciates the presence of the Colonel, Vargas in his shop more often than not, not only to spend his pay check but also to drink espresso out of tiny cups and flip through men’s fashion magazines.

He’d be a good match for the tailor’s son, the town agrees, though Lula and some other women insist that he may swing both ways and there is still hope for all the unwed women.

Rodolfo doesn’t care as much, he is glad his father found a friend who makes him feel less like he doesn’t belong to Las Almas, the city of sweat and dirt. And he’s glad Vargas wants to understand his home.

…

Rodolfo’s mother cries, his father cries, José sends his regards from the big city. His other two siblings make fun of him in his dress uniform.

He had insisted that it’s enough to have the Colonel do the honors of promoting him instead of traveling back to their actual fort and so he’s becoming a Sergeant Major amidst kids playing hopscotch and several barbecue grills smoking. The soldiers they’ve requested so far clap politely, some already holding fizzy drinks and bowls of food. Varga’s official announcement of Rodolfo’s rank is interrupted by a screeching test of the speakers they’ve brought from the city.

All in all, it’s the best promotion slash opening a base Rodolfo could have wished for.

He stands still for the obligatory picture with his parents, his entire family, Maria and their spouse and then just Elena, just his godchild. He feels like a prop as the people by his side change with the click of the camera. He’s ready to break away and change out of his uniform when Vargas throws his arm around his shoulders.

It’s Rodolfo’s favorite picture of that day.

Vargas holds up the peace sign, Rodolfo’s face red from the sun (!), both laughing at the camera.

All in all, life is good.

…

“My, I envy you.” Vargas admits one night, them touring the compound one last time before the official visit from brass. “Your people love you.”

“They’ll love you too.” Rodolfo’s say, a bit too quickly and maybe there is heat on his face, but words aren’t his strength.

“You think so?” The Colonel stops.

“They will.” Rodolfo says, staring at his boots. “I’ll show you.”

…

Finally he brings Vargas around to his quarter.

They are a little late, the sun has already set and the meal has begun, but they have a base to run with new people and equipment arriving every day.

They park the SUV down the street, Rodolfo still in his work clothes but Vargas had insisted on changing. He’s in slacks and a white button down, freshly showered.

They round the corner and the assembled people of Las Alams give a relieved “aaaah” when they spot them. Rodolfo had asked his mama if it’s fine if he brought the Colonel just this once, his mama had told her friends who had told their families and soon everyone had asked Rodolfo if he was really, finally bringing his Colonel around.

Vargas tries with exactly two people to be formal, then he lets himself be dragged towards a table by Lula. Rodolfo is intercepted by his mama who quizzes him on what he had to eat this week and fills his plate to the brim.

People flock towards Vargas, the men apprehensive and their questions hidden tests. Rodolfo is quickly roped into being the keeper for a round of soccer and he lets some balls through, to keep the kid’s spirits high. When he was fourteen he was a win-condition, but they don’t need to know that.

Maria rescues him after his third dance with the grandmothers and hands him his godchild, over tired and fussy.

They find their old terra cotta pot and sit, reminiscent of old time.

“He fits right in.” Maria remarks.

The crowd has died down, the smaller kids in bed already, small groups formed at the half empty tables. Vargas stands with a group of smoking men, a toddler in his arms. The kid drools on his shoulder, out like a light.

“He does.” Rodolfo agrees.

“Your Colonel.” Maria repeats and waggles their eyebrows.

Rodolfo rolls his eyes, kisses his godchild who makes a desperate pout, eyes wet.

“Our Colonel.” He corrects.

…

“There is a farm for sale.” Rodolfo tells Vargas. “In the south.”

“Oh?” Vargas looks up from his papers, slightly less shitty coffee half empty.

“I can take you there this weekend.”

“Worried about my safety?” Vargas says with a wink.

Rodolfo does not blush, he’s sure about that.

“You’re just a terrible driver and we don’t need the transmission replaced, again.” He says it with less heat than he wants to, but he’s glad he’s shifted the topic to Vargas shitty driving instead.

Not that the Colonel might think Rodolfo has put his feelers out after the other has mentioned investing in real estate. Or that he thinks Rodolfo prefers to accompany him instead of sending him off alone.

“Then let’s drive down in the morning.”

Rodolfo nods, twisting the drawstrings of his shorts.

“ Mama will want us to come have lunch after.”

“It’s a date.”

…

Vargas gets along well with Rodolfo’s father but even better with Elena. He reads her essays for school and gives her good advice. Elena doesn’t speak much but Vargas mentions her Spanish essays might get her a stipend in the big city if she wants to.

Rodolfo is glad, he’s never cared much for school himself.

It doesn’t take long and Rodolfo’s mother calls him her fourth son.

…

Vargas is immediately in love with the small, run down farm. It’s a bit too big for a single man and a bit too small for a family which is why it has been empty for so long.

“The roof needs to be patched.” Rodolfo states, hands on his hips.

“Yeah, but it’s perfect otherwise.”

“You need to take out half the walls and replace the pipes. They burst during winter.”

“But other than that, I like it.”

“You might need to replace the windows or heating will become expensive.”

“I could buy curtains.”

Vargas follows Rodolfo through the house, the latter dutifully pointing out every mistake and flaw. Vargas loves it either way, especially the large patio where he plans to barbecue for everyone and their mother.

“Do you even know how to fix a roof?” Rodolfo asks as they close the car doors, basking in the cool of the aircon.

“No, but I can learn.” His smile is bright and winning and Rodolfo just knows the whole town will show up and help their Colonel build his dream house, before the ink of his signature has dried on the papers.

…

It’s a year into their new and fancy base when Rodolfo brings up getting the paperwork ready to become an official training facility. Even if the boys and girls don’t stay in the military they’re off the streets, out of the Cartel’s hands for another six months.

Vargas is hesitant at first, but finally agrees when he’s asked seven times in six minutes at Elena’s graduation. The kids are young and motivated and they love their village, the Colonel just has to say yes.

…

“Why do you call him that?” Ramirez asks.

“Because, he is the Colonel, no?”

“Yeah,” the Sergeant replies and hands him a tray. “But you’ve been working together for so long. Why do you only call him Vargas or Colonel?”

Rodolfo is silent at that. It has never crossed his mind to call Vargas anything besides that.

“And you spent every weekend fixing his shitty house.” Garza throws in. “I’ve spent like two hours with him at the FE and he’s offered me to call him Alejandro like thrice.”

“Good for you.” Rodolfo says, irritated.

But wait, it gets worse.

<< Part 1 >> Part 3

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #alejandro x rodolfo #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #fanfiction

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yamboard · 1 year ago

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Rain drummed on the hats of the Merry Anglers. They bundled their knees up to their chests and huddled close for shelter. Frou Frou, their leader, whispered encouragement. Porto shivered along, dressed in deep black rags. He’d dipped into the hole and emerged spluttering on the beach twice that evening, soaked through.

The next morning felt muggy. Porto squelched about the beach tending shrines. He tried to avoid the hourly bowl run, but Frou Frou soon caught him hiding in the wreckage of his cousin’s Hopper.

- Come, a Brother of the Angle cannot skimp on his carving. What troubles you? Frou Frou said.

- What troubles me? You idiot! You’re the one that did this to me. You cretin, Porto said.

- Most initiates at least try to improve after the second flush. But you continue to batter yourself. Do you completely lack self-respect? Frou Frou said.

- I’ve seen yamboarding. What you lot do, it makes me sick, Porto said.

He explained what he saw.

- …a novelty restaurant? Frou Frou said.

That night, while the others huddled, Porto boarded straight into the hole. He walked back and repeated. At each trip a few peeled off and watched him attack it. Eventually all of them stood around the rim. Finally, Frou Frou stopped Porto and turned to say,

- Friends, this is a troubling case. I sense this lifestyle, that we have found so invigorating, is burning him down invisibly. How can we be merry with this inferno beside us?

Porto woke up to a headache. Frou Frou, decked out in bags, hauled him up and slapped him between the shoulder blades. The Anglers saw them off and they began trekking to Moonshine. Porto had no idea what was going on. They walked.

- Quite a tale you told us before you tried to knock your own block off last night. Do you know how to find this Pissbucket? Frou Frou said.

- Is not Pissbucket… is cousin, Porto said.

- I see, Frou Frou said.

- Cookham. Cookham, Porto said.

And they walked.

- …the angler needs a philosophy, much like the yamboarder. But the Anglers, we fuse our deepest convictions in both our favourite pastimes. Truly we are floating in providence. You may think me flippant, calling them pastimes. On the contrary! We believe in leisure, and assiduously pursuing it… Frou Frou said.

- Then why hovel about in filth by the sea? Porto said.

- It allows us to focus all the more. It drives us. What drives you, youngster? Frou Frou said.

- I’m 21! You probably are too. You just have bad skin. And your philosophy? It’s junk. Yamboarding isn’t twee-hardy-har-har flipping around. It’s rhythm. It’s repetition. I don’t need your fancy carving. I believe in hitting pavement until you’re numb, and then trying another trick. All these people with their avant twirls… Porto said

And they walked until they met a strange figure in the woods. They were formed of staticky silver lines, like tiny scratches on painted metal.

- Hello, Frou Frou said.

The figure stayed put, flexing a pale hole where their mouth should’ve been.

- Can you speak, friend? Frou Frou said.

Porto and Frou Frou looked around and saw more staticky characters drifting about the forest floor. Porto tugged at Frou Frou’s robe and they humbly continued along the path. They looked back and saw the figure still standing where they left them. Frou Frou stopped at a turn and ambled to a near tree. He leaned close to it and beckoned Porto over. The tree hummed electric.

The path wound on. Behind a bush, they found a knee-height mechanical cube chugging along. Beside it stood a tiny carving of a woman yawning, her eyes open wide. Frou Frou lay down and listened to the ground.

- Extraordinary! I think its connected to the trees, he said.

They stuck far from nature for the rest of the way. After a day of strong walking the forest thinned and they arrived at a roadside hostel. They gladly took off their packs and pushed through the door to find a grotty reception desk. A gruff old woman leered at them from behind it. Off to the left, some crusty patrons played a vicious game of Split the Pig in the bar.

- I don’t have any money, Porto said.

- Of course not, and neither is it my intention to stay here. Roofs are for less hardy fellows. My objective is information, Frou Frou said, tapping his nose.

He approached the desk.

- Where are my clothes, Gladys? Frou Frou said.

- Right where you left them, punk. And I guess he’s in need as well, Gladys said, sticking her thumb at Porto.

The pair followed Gladys into a backroom where they exchanged their hats and rags. Porto wore a mismatch of workpants, t-shirt, and coat. Frou Frou an ostentatious, Harlequin-like purple outfit. Porto thought he looked oddly clean.

- Wanna ride the wave? Gladys said.

- It’d be our pleasure, Frou Frou said.

Gladys pulled a rack of clothes aside to reveal a smaller room. The pair stepped in and Gladys closed the opening.

- What’s this? What’s going on? Porto said.

- A bit of fun. Get on your board and brace yourself, Frou Frou said.

The floor opened and Porto screamed as they dropped into a wooden pipe. He barely managed to catch the downward slope and turn before he launched upwards. He slowed in the middle and looked. Frou Frou flew up to scrape the walls. The impact howled about the bunker. Porto laughed and scurried up. He dropped back in, gained speed, and weaved down to some small bowls at the end of the pipe. He readied to hit them full evil until he met a lump, swerved, and clattered to the ground. The lump, a human person, shook herself out of her sleeping bag and yawned.

- My legs! Porto said.

- Right on, right on, she said.

She stood up, beer cans falling of her and rattling. Porto recovered and marched towards her.

- This is unethical. What are you doing lying in the middle of the bowl? He said.

- Hmm? Oh, I was just snoozing. Get to roll out of bed and straight into it. No commute. Ideal, she said.

- How now Porto, this sound perfectly ethical, Frou Frou said.

They bickered for a few minutes. Frou Frou introduced them as Merry Anglers, which Porto objected to. Clara, the sleepy boarder, kept making relaxed shrugs and noises. She’d been on a weeklong yam binge, taking quick breaks to get supplies and limber up in the fresh air. The rest she spent snoozing, chugging, and charging.

- A yam binge is a holy undertaking. But prolonged focus can lead to imbalance. Take angling, for example… Frou Frou said.

- True, true. But I dunno, not too into water sports. And I think it’s nice to just let the fish flow on. Why bother them, eh? Here I am, doing what I do. Enjoying a few refreshments, a good session. My muscles hurt but I’m happy. I’m swimming up my own stream. Can’t stay here forever, I know that. Gladys is an upstanding lady. Especially since I dipped pretty quick from Moonshine, couldn’t unify my assets. From Moonshine? Yeah! Long time, long time. Oh for sure I know Jamma! You know her cousin? That’s cool, that’s cool. She’s making moves, last I heard starting a revolution against the big man. Sounded intense… Clara said.

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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dick destroyer december | i. midoriya

♡ pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.2K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with no nut november over, finals complete and christmas right around the corner, your number one boy returns to you with only one thing on his mind.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, mentions of poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ) wall sex, fingering ( female recieving ), light!pet play, spitting, cum play, mentions of sex toys, exhibitionism, oral sex ( male + female recieving ), light!praise, heavy!breeding kink.

♡ author’s note(s): merry christmas everyone! i hope despite the circumstances that you’re all able to enjoy the holidays and are staying safe, if you’re not celebrating i wish you a wonderful day as well!! anyways here’s a little festive fic to satisfy you guys and tysm for 2K+ followers <33 find the corresponding kiribaku fic here!

♡ masterlist | requests

ever since you’d started college, your roomate, katsuki had always said that november was his favourite month of the year; it took you a while to figure out why.

having known the blonde since you were a child, you were aware that he despised the cold weather that nipped at his nose and made his quirk slow down. he hated wearing extra sweaters and begrudgingly asking your mother to make him some hot chocolate whenever he came over to play; in fact he hated asking you for it now as adults in your early twenties but as his good college roommate from freshmen year, you made sure he always had a mug waiting. nonetheless, katsuki’s sudden love for the winter months and festive weeks following honestly confused you to your wits end— especially with the impending doom of finals sneaking up on you.

however, you quickly found out the reason behind your best friend’s change in attitude towards the month of november, six months into your freshman year relationship with izuku midoriya.

“no nut november,” katsuki had purred into the neck of his beer bottle, rolling the cool glass against his bottom lip as he laughed at you from across the room. you had recalled the conversation to have occurred exactly half way through october, before the aforementioned month, you and your roommate had decided to host a small gathering with your classmates— purely fulled by thirty boxes of pepperoni pizza and beer, only two of the boxes had been vegetarian for your friends mina ashido and denki kaminari ( he was challenged by mina to go green for an entire month. “that’s why i love this month s’fuckin’ much.”

bakugou ended his sentence with a swig of his beer, setting the now empty bottle onto the coffee table that had been a house warming gift from his own mom. the sound causes todoroki and sero to jump from their place playing cards against humanity with your girl friend momo on the floor, and kirishima ( bakugou’s crush at the time, who’s drunk and passed out in the blonde’s lap ) to flinch awake. katuski pets his red hair once, making kirishima blink up at him affectionally.

your boyfriend, izuku, fidgets under the intimating stare of your roomie and you can tell he’s fighting the blush that spreads rapidly across his freckled cheeks. “n-no nut november?” your baby squeaks out, large palm settling on your lower waist as you shuffle to get comfortable in his lap. it’s clear he hasn’t taken part before, so you know exactly what your best friend is doing. trying to tease him in front of all your friends and pull him into something that you’re going to hate. nonetheless, deku downs the rest of his own alcoholic drink as bakugou prepares a response— the rest of your friendship group now pulled into the conversation.

“katsuki bakugou, don’t be mean.” you scold with a bite into your grease laced pizza and offer up the rest to izuku, who politely passes. you pout.

“‘m not, just sayin’— that damn month will be the only time of the year that i don’t get to hear you and the goddamn nerd fuckin’ like rabbits all the time.”

this time, its you who fights an embarrassed look on your face while your green haired lover simply swipes todoroki’s shot from the coffee table and swallows it all at once. the dual haired boy only groans before rising to get another from the kitchen and the rest of your friends hide their giggles in their own drinks, cards and half eaten pizza slices. “you…you can hear us?” you squeal incredulously, causing your friends to snort out loud again. izuku still says nothing.

“baby, we damn near almost see you whenever we drop by!” kirishima mumbles with sleep curling in his tone, he stretches like a cat on bakugou’s lap and grins at you— sharpened teeth dazzling under the LED lights in your living room. they flicker to a deep green, but you barely notice it.

abandoning your pizza as a whole, you huff and push up the sleeves of izuku’s hoodie that you wear— just about ready to pummel your best friend into the ground for having people over while you…ahem…get some, but shoto returns from the kitchen quicker than you anticipate and cuts right through the chatter with ease, giving you little time to feel flustered by the sudden turn in conversation. “you guys are more sexually active than my parents and they had four kids, messed up with raising us from touya, though,” he says in his iconic monotonous voice, causing you to splutter and katsuki to kick his feet out in victory. “seriously, i doubt midoriya would be able to beat any of us at this no nut november thing ‘cause of it.”

this time, deku ( as so affectionally nicknamed by your childhood best friend ), pouts, his frustrated voice bleeding into the conversation. “c’mon, don’t you have a little faith in me, shoto?”

“no.” is todoroki’s simple answer. you flinch, did you guys really have sex that often? to the point where no one believed your boyfriend could go a month without getting his dick wet?

“i second that,” kaminari pipes in, picking a mushroom off of his pizza and leaning over to plop it into sero’s mouth.

“third it!” the latter adds.

your roomie takes that and runs with it. “he wouldn’t last a day even if he tried.”

“leave it alone, katsuki.” you find the courage to defend yourself through your flustered state without realising the buzz of beer and vodka shooting through zuku’s veins.

it takes quite a bit to get your boyfriend drunk, he was a big boy after all and played for your college football team but once the drink was through his system he often broke out of his shy demeanour and into one of confidence and challenging your beloved best friend. izuku’s grip on your waist tightens as he leans forward to point accusingly at the blonde before speaking. “wanna fucking bet on it, kacchan?” he says with sparkling emerald eyes and a honeyed voice that makes you twitch in place in his lap. of course you would get horny right in the middle of your two best boys having a drunk argument.

“what’chu say nerd?” bakugou slurs, pushing poor kirishima off of his lap and to the floor in order to stand up and cross the room towards your boyfriend, pointing a finger in his face.

izuku pushes the digit away, smirking up at the blonde drunkenly and everyone’s gaze in the room suddenly falls on them. “i bet that i can last longer in no nut november than you.”

you whimper from your lover’s lap, knowing that as soon as everyone clears out you’re going to pounce on him before this stupid bet takes place. this doesn’t go unnoticed by the girls, momo and mina, who tease you for having such a high libido but you don’t think they’ll understand how much you’re going to suffer without your broccoli haired boyfriend’s dick every other night.

you love izuku and katsuki, you really do— but its times like this, for the sake of your sex drive and love life, that you really wish they’d got along more. maybe it was their little battle for your affection that caused the rift between the two, after all katsuki had been the only boy in your life up until college and izuku, you were pretty sure was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…either way, their rivalry was getting in your way and was about to be a major cockblock for the next thirty days. “hold up you guys, don’t i get a say in this?” your voice comes out in a slight whine as you tug on midoriya’s fitted shirt, but he’s too busy having a stare off with your roommate to notice. “what about me and my needs?”

“it’s not about’cha, shitty girl.”

“stay out of this, yn.”

you huff, pushing yourself off of your boyfriend izuku’s lap to stand and smack the pair of losers upside their heads before joining your girls on the floor. mina pulls you into a comforting hug, trying to distract your mind from the fact that it’ll be deku dick-less for a month while momo serves you out a set of cards to join her in a game of cards against humanity with the other boys lounging on the floor— kirihsima is invited into the game too. “sounds like i’ll be getting you a dildo as an early christmas present!” ashido comments, swiping her deck off of your hand me down rug before anyone can see them.

momo grins at you while you take your cards and take another shot from poor, unsuspecting shoto. “better make it extra thick, we know he’s got a nice one on him, yn.”

“fuck you guys.”

“gladly, we’re not taking part of no nut november like those two idiots.” the black haired girl hums, shuffling in her seat to start the next round. you roll your eyes and turn your gaze to watch the green and blonde haired boys you adore so much fight over this trivial guys only event.

their cheeks are flushed from all the beer they’ve drunk and they’re leaning on each other for support, but that doesn’t stop them from going at each other. “you couldn’t beat me, even if you tried, shitty deku.” katsuki mumbles, arm around midoriya’s head— forcing the poor boy into bakugou’s large pecs. “haha...shitku…”

“oh try me, bitch.” your boyfriend counters, voice so husky it sends shivers down your spine, although it contrasts deeply with the sight of his adorable cheeks pressed against katsuki’s tits.

they’re too drunk to brawl it out and quite frankly you’re too tired to bother to stop them, mind only wondering how you plan to survive the next thirty days.

three years, three novembers and a few weeks into december later; you’re still wondering how the hell you’ve survived.

ever since that night in your freshman year; izuku, bakugou and the other boys have competed vigorously to last throughout the entirety of no nut november; your boyfriend having won the last three years in a row. katsuki hated it, losing to your izuku but he hated the victory sex you gave him even more.

you’d think he’d be used to it by now, with everyone in their final year of college but bakugou had manage to luck out this year on not hearing you and midoriya go round after round on november thirtieth. finals had hit you guys hard in terms of wrapping up the semester before christmas; they were important to pass too, considering you’d all be graduating within a few months, so you’d barely seen izuku since november ended and december rolled around.

now, being a couple weeks into the festive month and with finals drawing to a close— you had yet to make plans to see your boyfriend. there was little time between the online classes and preparation from the holidays, yet you could feel yourself growing more sexually frustrated by the second. rubbing one out wasn’t doing it for you anymore and listening katsuki’s bragging about his peaceful nights of sleep while you decorated your apartment with mistletoe and tinsel was really starting to tick you off.

the very decoration slips from between your fingers as bakugou walks in, yanking bits of tape from his fingers from where you had him lining the ceiling rails with gold, green and red tinsel. the blonde had only gone and slammed the door to your living room against the wall, grumbling about the stupid mess of clear tape across his clumsy fingers— the action scaring you half to death before you huff, facing him. “what, katsuki? what could you possibly need right now?”

his vermillion gaze picks up from his smoking palms, a last resort to getting rid of the tape. “came to tell ya that ‘m headin’ out with kirishima— going to pick up our girlfriend from the airport.” a sweet blush lays loosely against your best friend’s cheeks at his admission, not long after you guys’ drunken night in freshman year, bakugou had confessed to your red headed companion; only to find out he had a girlfriend waiting for him in his hometown.

kirishima wasn’t a cheater, but he also couldn’t help the flutter in his heart around bakugou— so had the two meet straight away and after a lot of tears and large dramatics, the three settled into a cute little relationship. you’d only met the girl once when she visited both boys for spring break— but you’d loved her and knew how much she made your best friend happy.

you smile nonetheless, picking the mistletoe up from the floor. “tell her i said hi, yeah?” you mention to your friend while he shrugs on a jacket and checks himself in the mirror. katsuki was in love, and it was insanely adorable to see. “do i need to set up the guest bedroom for her ’n kiri?”

“nah, shitty red head kicked out kami, he’s staying with sero and mina while my girl’s up.” katsuki shakes his head, letting you fix the collar of his jacket after you bound over to him. “we’ll be back after lunch to pick up some of my stuff though. so don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid and i’ll see you later, yeah?”

you cross a finger over your heart but the mischievous smile on your face gives you away. “no promises katsu, stay safe out there!”

your smile drops however, as soon as your roommate closes the door behind him, knowing him and kirishima, they’ll probably fuck their girl across all the surfaces in eijirou’s free apartment, which only makes your stomach churn with hot jealously and a hint of arousal.

selfish of you as it were, you wish your boyfriend hadn’t chosen such an intense subject with so many finals and intense studying— but izuku loved engineering almost as much as he loved you, so its not like you would ask him to give up his passion.

besides, you figured he’d look pretty hot in his mechanics classes—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scared hands on display while sweat drips down his furrowed brow and—

and fuck me, now you were as horny as a mother fucker.

a familiar ache appears between your thighs while you attempt to busy yourself with the rest of the festive decorations; you hang a wreathe at the door both inside and out, tape the remaining tinsel around counters in your kitchen and finally attempt to fix the christmas tree katsuki insisted wasn’t lopsided ( even though it was ). but no matter how hard you worked om christmas-ing the apartment, you couldn’t shake the fantasy of midoriya railing you against his work bench. it wouldn’t go away.

patting your cheeks to calm your hot flush; you decide that you’re done bedazzling and fix some christmas lights above your doorways to go with your LED ones, and get ready to take a cold shower and hoping that the wetness between your legs will go away. you make a b-line for the bathroom, not bothering to bring a spare change of clothes since katsuki isn’t home. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before.

you’re half way through your commute, wearing nothing but one of zuku’s old shirts when the front door jingles and busts open from the other side of your home. foot steps pound against your hardwood floor, letting you know someone is approaching.

“fucking hell katsuki, stop slamming the door against the wall before you make another—“ your words die in the back of your throat when your sweet little boyfriend comes into view. albeit a bit dishevelled, deku’s green hair falls prettily over his excited eyes while sweat rolls in tiny droplets from his forehead to his chin and his backpack hanging half off of his shoulder…in all honesty he looks a mess, but a good looking one at that. “zuku? what are you doing here?”

your lover looks bewildered, but a smile that fills you with warmth crosses his face. “i ran across campus to see you; i finished my finals…” he pants, the engineering building is pretty far from here so no wonder he looks the way he does.

despite knowing this, you quirk a brow. “still doesn’t answer my question babe.”

“november is over,” izuku sighs, dropping his backpack and crossing the room towards you in three short strides. When he reaches you, scarred hands curl around your waist while soft lips tickle the shell of your ear with deku’s next words. “it’s christmas…don’t make me wait. i want to fuck you.”

you don’t miss the way bight green eyes darken and drag up your hand naked body, your boyfriend’s shirt ending just above your knees and exposing the meat of your thighs to him. the wetness pools between them, making your skin glisten under familiar flashing LED lights and tinsel. izuku is waiting for a. sign...anything for you to give him consent to take his prize between your legs, electricity crackles in the air and you instinctively reach up to curl your fingers in his curls. “fuck me, izuku.” you say breathlessly, unleashing a month and a half’s worth of hormones out onto each other. “fuck me like you mean it, big boy.”

the teasing lilt to your voice earns you a spank to the ass as deku lifts you up into his arms and over his muscular shoulder. you squeal in delight at the harsh sting, leaning down to pat his ass too. he’s got a particularly nice one and you’re sure it was carved by the fucking gods.

the green haired boy hauls you over to the kitchen counter, setting you down atop it before his lips find yours in passionate and hurried movements. its been so long since you’ve kissed him, felt his muscles ripple under your touch while your hand roams his chest underneath the varsity jacket he wears.

you push the offending material off while izuku trails a hand between your thighs, chuckling into the kiss at the slick that adds a glimmer to your skin. his pink tongue darts out to lick a stripe across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter your hot mouth. you grant him access, swirling your own pink muscle around is and suck it down. your breath hitches as thick fingers finally come into contact with the burn of your heat, gently prodding at your puffy, sticky clit. “you’re…doll, you’re so fucking wet already. did you miss me?” your boy moans breathlessly in between your sloppy kisses, pulling away to show you the string of your slick that coats his fingers. you nod in agreement.

izuku taps your lips once and you obediently take the digits into your mouth, humming at your sweetness that invades your tongue, all the while, his other wandering hand shoves two digits into your wet cunt with no warning— making you shiver on the counter while the tinsel you’d taped there scratches at your calves. both sets of fingers thrust into your openings at the same time, giving you a friction you so awfully desire.

“such a good girl, dollface— fuck, i f-forgot how good you looked sucking on my fingers like that.” midoriya whines out and you’re not sure which of your holes he’s referring to, but you couldn’t care less, not when those that stuff your tight pussy are curling against the walls in a way that has you leaking sweet nectar all over your marble surfaces. you gush at his praise however, bucking your hips into his hand while the heel of his palm grinds into your swollen clit— sending shockwaves through your body.

the fingers that plug your mouth are pulled out so the darling sounds of your moans mingle with that of your dripping heat, walls clenching around izuku every once on a while. your lover grinds against the table, watching you with close eyes as your face contorts into expressions that he’s missed so dearly. one thrust into your spongy g-spot makes your body jump and thighs close around your boyfriend’s hand— head falling forward against his shoulder. “mnn, zuzu... haven’t felt this good in s’long, gonna cum, gonna mess up your hand.”

to your dismay, deku pulls from your cunt faster than you would have liked and you whine at the empty feeling in your stretched out hole. your heat makes an awful dripping sound when you’re fully empty, and you grunt knowing that its a mess you’ll have to clean up later.

however, you’re easily distracted by the lips at your collar bones, painting bruises into your sweat licked skin while slick hands paw at your breasts. “cum on my face first, please?” its cute how desperate izuku is, but you can’t say that you aren’t either— especially when you haven’t fucked in so long.

“yes, god yes…” you accept too quickly while your shirt is pulled off completely; for midoriya’s mouth as moved from pressing hot kisses to your neck onto biting at your breast and rolling the hardened nipple of your other with his free hand. “but, wanna suck you off too ‘zuku…”

your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate with his next movements, kicking off his pants and boxers ( in one go, mind you ) before picking you up once again and sinking to the floor with you in his arms. he makes quick work of flipping you onto your tummy, pulsing cunny shoved so close into his face that you can feel deku’s nose bump your clit when he breathes and then; your face rests so easily on the swell of his thigh— right next to his hardened cock that you’ve missed so much.

izuku midoriya is a god and you swear by it.

your friend’s were right, he is packing. he’s thick and girthy, tip angry and red as it leaks heavily with a clear precum that has you drooling. “missed your dick, zu,“ you sigh, mostly to yourself and before you know it, your lips enclose around the head of his cock.

the way you suck on it, as if you’ve been starved of your last meal makes izuku shiver with pleasure and his nails dig into your peachy ass. you roll his balls between your fingers, loving the delicious whimpers you manage to lure from between your boy’s lips and the sound makes your pussy spasm around nothing.

a weighted palm moves to the back of your head in order to push you further down on his cock, deku’s own hips bucking up so you swallow more of him down. the taste of him is dangerously addictive, saltiness dancing across your tongue. “suck my dick sweetheart, yeah? suck on it just like that, good girl.” the hot breath from each of his choked laments brushes against your eager cunt, dampening your skin even more. he dives right in, tongue slithering between your puffy folds while he slurps at you with at insatiable place.

izuku craves to make you feel nothing but ecstasy, working his pink muscle hard against your walls that clamp down on his tongue while yours runs laps between the dribbling tip of his iron hot length. inhaling sharply, you force yourself to take more of deku down your throat, listening out for the tears that sting in his emerald eyes wen you swallow around him. You hum with sweet victory when his breathing stutters and hips jump up with excitement.

you’re both close, sensitive from the time you’ve spent away from one another, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. the room rises with temperature at every step you take towards orgasm, deku taking your cheeks in large, calloused palms and spreading you apart to spit directly into your hole. you swear on your life you’d never known pleasure until you’d met izuku, as no matter how much time you’d been apart, he still knew all the little tips and tricks to get you going. where to hold you, how to touch you, what to say. he was always so focused on making you feel good.

your head bobs up and down with an inconsistent pace, each time, your tongue mapping out the veins on his girth that you’d come to know so well, hand’s fisting at balls and the rest of his cock that you can’t reach.

“i’m gonna…doll—puppy, i’m gonna cream in that mouth of yours… please,” a strangled cry. “i-is that okay?”

you tap his thigh once, your own little signal to let your boyfriend know it’s okay before continuing your work— letting drool pool in your mouth before spewing it onto his cock. deku pulls his tongue from inside of you, flicking it rapidly at your clit to bring you closer and closer to the edge, not wanting to cum without you. and he doesn’t, the cord that’s built up in your stomach finally snapping.

white flashes behind your eyes as you gush all over izuku’s face, drenching his freckled cheeks and painting his innocence with a layer of your honeyed sin. Your lover follows shortly after, filling your mouth to the brim with a heavy load that tastes of him and only him. a taste that you could fall in love with every single day. “baby,” you giggle after letting go of his cock with a satisfying ‘pop’, heat spreading beneath your skin as you take note of the slight shine to the green haired student’s face. “think you made me squirt!”

“guess i did! you’re always so cute when you squirt for me, yn,” and like the messy boy he is, midoriya wipes his mouth on the back of his hand ( always a poor eater, couldn’t keep his meal in one peace ) before peeking at you from over your quivering and arched back. izuku smiles proudly at his handy-work of your messy cunt, radiating a billion rays of sunshine and your heart clenches in your chest. you hate how cute he looks when you’re in such a lewd and compromising position, like he hadn’t just fucked you dumb under the mistletoe. “should’ve been on my dick ’n not m-my tongue though...”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to another round, if you aren’t.”

“like hell i could say no to being inside you after a whole month of waiting, doll.”

you roll your eyes, but wiggle your hips back into your boyfriend’s face nonetheless. “then dick me down deku, destroy me.”

with your boyfriend’s help, you manage to crawl off of his lap and wait patiently on your knees as he stands. izuku beams down at you, a hundred and one words of love written in his eyes that glow warmly under christmas lights before he pets your head and reaches for your hands to help you stand on shaky legs.

the first kiss you share after this is gentle and sweet, even while your tangled fingers are set free and deku’s large hands are once again on your waist, rubbing small circles into the skin of your hips as he backs you into the nearest wall. you simper at the taste of yourself on his tongue and allow him to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs— locking your ankles at the centre of his back and just above bis bum— all the while keeping you pressed against the wall.

the outline of izuku’s length presses hotly against your weeping slit, his lips still slotted against yours in a slow liplock while his tip smears the remains of his seed across your clit and between your folds. you feel your boyfriend’s arms quiver around you as he slowly begins to sheath himself within your spamming pussy— jolting away from his lips, your mouth falls open in a weak moan and the green eyed boy quickly follows you, copying the movement of your lips as his sweaty forehead meets your own and your gazes align sweetly. “doll…” he mumbles brokenly, letting you adjust to the push of his cock against your walls. “been so long since i felt you like this…”

your fingertips reach out and graze his shoulders, hot breath fanning out between your bodies as izuku’s cock reaches the hilt inside of you. he stills. “move baby, can’t wait anymore— “

izuku midoriya doesn’t need to be told twice when it comes to fucking you; finally making the move to bottom out inside of your pussy. heat blossoms in your heart and your glistening mound as your lover gently rolls his hips against yours and the way he feels reminds you that your mind, body and soul belong to him and him only.

although you are finally together, moving as one against the wall in your shitty college apartment, you crave for izuku to fill you to the brim and reach up to tug at mossy locks in order to bring him impossibly closer.

you don’t dare close your eyes as deku sets the pace, not even as your gaze on him flutters, you want the image of his blushed and blissed out face imprinted to into the back of your mind forever, you want the sounds of struggled whimpers and skin slapping against skin to become the tune of your memories. you want your senses to be filled with him always and forever as make love against tinselled ceiling rails and mistletoe above your heads. all you can think is more, more, more. more of him, more of izuku.

“focus on me, puppy,” izuku reminds you, grinding his pelvis against you every time his hips canter into you. his cock grazes the entrance of your womb, leaking into you like a cocktail of your arousals. but the neediness behind his words makes you blink away the glassiness in your eyes, locking your arms and legs around him tighter and grinding your hips down to meet the drive of his cock into your spongy g-spot. “your cute lil hole’s still so tight, nice ’n moulded into the shape of my cock— made to take me, right?” your boy babbles, tripping over his sentences through the saliva on his tongue.

the feeling has you stirring against your boyfriend’s length, his now rapid pace sending your teary eyes rolling and you mewling. “made for you ’n only you ‘zu, please don’ stop…” is all you can say, mind breaking as midoriya’s hands drop between your joined bodies to draw lazy shapes into your puffy nub, the movements silky due to the mild mix of juices coating your sexes.

each thrust from your lover sends you a little bit up the wall, head of his cock catching tastefully along the ridges of your velvety walls— the way your pussy feels inside drives izuku to the brink of insanity, you’ve always been able to take him so well and he missed the way your cute face curled into expressions of desire all for him. you’re so pretty, so intoxicating and he’s so happy to have you back in his arms.

“s-such a good girl for me, yn…fucking hell puppy,” izuku punctuates each of his toe curling thrusts with stuttered cries of your name, angling his hips upwards to hit your g-spot over and over. everything feels so sloppy, tainted with signs of your love but as the knot in your stomach begins to unravel, you couldn’t care less. “gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up and make you my fucking puppy.”

“’m already yours, always will be zuku,” you manage to speak, clenching down on him and letting out an almost pornographic moan as deku drills into you with the last of his strength.

he nods against your foreheads that remain pressed together, staring at you with adoration written across his seafood eyes. “love you, doll…love you s’much, you did so well baby…cum for me now…” izuku mumbles out, hissing slightly as your grip on his hair tightens to yank him down for one final searing kiss.

tears of heavenly pleasure roll down your cheeks as he swallows your final moan, his words pushing you right over the edge and into an earth shattering orgasm. “c-cumming!” you squeal so loud that you’re sure the neighbours can hear, while you lose control and pulse around midoriya’s scalding cock. the world of colour flashes behind your eyes— release splattering out against your boyfriend’s pelvis and the floor. “mnnn, izuku! i love you, please…”

you’re begging now, your sloppy pussy coaxing him along to his own release while deku relentlessly fucks into you. his chest rumbles with every one of his whimpers and groans, cock pushing you into overstimulation while he snaps his hips into you.

“ohh i love you…gonna cum, gonna cum— fuck, puppy—!” he sobs pathetically, dropping his head to your neck as his teeth clamp down on your bare skin to silence himsel. your tired body is forced up the wall while izuku tumbles into his own orgasm, sweltering seed splashing up inside your abused cunt. he slows to a grind, creaming inside you and painting your insides white as snow— panting with you until your breathing calms down.

the pair of you sink to the floor again, still in one another’s embrace as exhaustion sweeps over your limbs. before you know it, izuku is giggling sweetly against your lips, pressing grateful kisses along your neck and jaw while you fiddle with his baby hairs on the nape of his neck— still trying to catch your breath.

“t-that,” he sighs, nothing but love and adoration cushioning his gaze on you as you settle in his lap. you squirm at feeling so full, his cum dripping out of your fluttering hole but find yourself getting comfortable soon after. “that was so good, i missed you, yn, really.”

you cup the boy’s freckled cheeks and hum, heart swelling at his slight confession. “i missed you more zuku, all of you, not just your dick.” you clarify your words, making light of the mess you’ve made.

izuku rolls his eyes but leans into your gentle touch nonetheless, faking a pout in order to get a kiss on the lips. “glad to know that my girlfriend still loves me, even when she’s been deprived of my godly cock for a month and a half.”

“i’ll always love you.” you say, leaning in to give him a slight peck on the lips.

“as will i.”

you both tilt your heads to complete the vow with a simple kiss when a cough cuts through the love filled atmosphere, making you and izuku jump right out of your skin. Immediately, your gaze scopes out the room, only to land on your child hood best friend— accompanied by both his girlfriend and boyfriend. fuck, you completely forgot about that.

“are you two done now?” katsuki drawls, still tucked into his winter jacket, while krishima covers his girlfriend’s eyes with a free hand, the other occupied by her luggage from her flight. she still offers you an awkward smile and a wave.

“k-kacchan! haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” deku squeaks, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest and at least protect some of your decency. it’s nothing bakugou nor kirishima haven’t sen before ( it’s not the first time you’ve been caught like this ) but you allow yourself to fall into izuku’s protective embrace anyways— heated embarrassment prickling underneath your skin.

your blonde roommate, however, is livid— staring you down with bloody eyes that speak tales of murder. “knock? knock? i fucking live here, you shitty nerd!” bakugou scolds, making you flinch and offer him a weak smile. eijirou by now has the decency to escort his girlfriend into his other partner’s room to gather some of his belongings, effectively leaving you and your boyfriend to face the wrath of your favourite angry pomeranian. the blonde turns to you. “and i thought i told you not to do anythin’ fuckin’ stupid while i was gone?”

“don’t yell at me! i didn’t know izuku was coming… literally and figuratively!” both boys groan at this, making you scowl. what? it was a good joke! “besides, i was just congratulating my boyfriend for winning no nut november, again. you should be used to it by now, suki.”

katuski looks between you both, annoyance sweeping his face before he pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. “couldn’t you congratulate him somewhere else? somewhere, where i didn’t have to be blinded and traumatised for the rest of my shitty life.”

this time, it’s your boyfriend who speaks up, standing with you in his arms. deku smirks evilly, pointing to the little green plant above your heads. “no can do kacchan, it’s dick destroyer december and there was no better way to start it, than under the mistletoe.”

izuku turns swiftly on his heel and makes a dash towards your bedroom before your best friend can threaten to blow you up, presumably to fuck you in your bed for this next round.

“fuck you guys!” he curses you out, watching you go.

“we’re already on it, have a great christmas, katsuki!” you sing back, just a deku slams your door shut and drops you onto your bed— already crawling on top of you.

you’d have to thank katsuki someday for challenging izuku back in freshman year, because without his newfound love for november— you wouldn’t have discovered your guilty pleasure for dick destroyer december.

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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

Text

I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

SLEEPLESS

a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...

pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader

word count: 8.1k

masterlist

Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.

You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.

“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”

“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.

So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.

You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.

“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.

“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”

“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.

They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.

The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.

Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.

“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.

“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.

“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.

“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.

“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.

“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.

“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.

“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”

“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.

“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.

“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.

“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”

“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”

“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.

“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.

“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.

“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.

Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.

“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.

“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.

“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.

Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.

“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”

“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.

“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”

You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.

“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.

“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.

“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.

At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.

“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”

“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.

You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.

Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.

Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.

You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.

No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.

“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.

“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.

“Sure,” he hums.

“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”

“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.

It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?

Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.

He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.

“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.

You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.

“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.

Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.

Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.

Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.

“What is it?” you ask.

“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”

“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.

“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.

“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”

“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”

“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.

He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.

“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.

Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.

“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.

You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.

Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.

“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.

It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.

“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.

“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”

“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.

Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.

This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.

Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.

This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.

Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.

“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.

One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.

Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.

Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.

Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.

“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.

“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.

“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.

“You slept in his room?!”

“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.

“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.

“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.

“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.

“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.

“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”

“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.

“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.

“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”

“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.

“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”

“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.

“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”

“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.

Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.

You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.

Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.

It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.

But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?

By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.

“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.

“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”

“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.

Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.

You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.

Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.

“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.

Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.

“Kinda.”

“The storm?”

You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.

Why didn’t you come over?

You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.

For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.

Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.

“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.

“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.

“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”

“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.

“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.

Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.

“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”

“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.

“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.

Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.

“I know, Harry.”

“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.

Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.

You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.

You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.

There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.

Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.

You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.

“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.

“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”

“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.

So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.

With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.

“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.

You’re fucked.

The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.

Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.

Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.

No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.

Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.

A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.

“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.

“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.

“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.

“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”

“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.

“No, tell me!”

“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”

“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.

“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”

Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.

“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”

“What?”

“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”

“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”

You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.

“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.

“So… you did all of this, because… you…”

“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.

“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.

“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.

“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”

“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I get to kiss you.”

“Deal.”

You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.

He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.

“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.

“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.

“Are you still scared?”

“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”

“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

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reidsnose · 4 years ago

Text

sticky notes (spencer reid x reader) (platonic!baux reader)

overview: reader leaves and recieves a passive aggressive sticky note before going on a case

genre: fluff and humor?

a/n: i thought of this last night while i was trying to go to sleep and i could not stop thinking about that one vine and its also super snowy where i live lol. anyway i wrote it today throughout the school day and couldnt wait to put it on here :)

masterlist

'whoever used the last sugar packet, your moms a hoe.'

you let out a small chuckle and stuck the sticky not to the container that usually held packets of sugar before taking a sip of your bitter, unsweetened coffee that you would have to deal with for the rest of the day.

"i hope hotch didn't take it," prentiss laughed, peering over at the note.

"everyone knows hotch drinks his coffee black." you retorted.

"no only you know that because you were his assistant before you joined the team," she joked, resulting in you sending a light elbow to her side. "you know we are handwriting analysts. everyones going to know you wrote that."

"except that they wont because i type everything. besides, i dont really think anyone on the team wont take the joke." you chuckled, pushing the door open with your free hand and heading into the bullpen.

"briefing room in 5 minutes, we have a case," hotch called from the balcony.

"theres fresh coffee in the break room, i feel like were going to need it," you said to the rest of the team that were sitting at there desks.

they all eagerly got up, ready for a fresh, hot drink to wake them up. you smiled as you walked to the briefing room, standing by your unassigned assigned seat. you took a sip of your drink, making a face at the bitter taste.

"why is your beautiful face scrunched up?" Garcia asked, setting down files in front of all the empty seats.

"someone took the last sugar." you stated simply.

"i have some in the batcave, youre always welcome" she winked, sending you a warm smile which you gladly returned.

"youre the best."

"yeah i know," she answered before the other agents began filing in, Spencer taking a seat next to you. "alright crime fighters, today youre all headed to snowy Alaska."

"actually," rossi looked at hotch and then garcia before continuing, "Garcia i think youre coming too."

"sir?" she looked over at hotch.

"dave is right. the connection will be spotty anyway, it would be best if you came a long and worked from the precinct." hotch confirmed.

"oh. alright." she obliged before continuing with the details of the case.

(a/n: im waaayyyy too lazy to write a whole case)

"wheels up in 5, it will take a while to get there and we dont have time to waste." hotch said at the end of the briefing before walking out.

"oh shoot i left my phone in the break room," i whispered, smacking my forehead with my palm.

"do you want me to wait for you?" spencer offered.

"no its ok," you smiled, jogging down the stairs.

"ill take your go bag. hurry i dont know if i can convince them not to leave without you!" he called after me, a giggle escaping his throat at his own joke.

"thanks! it'll be their loss anyway!" you laughed, as you sped walked to the break room. "there you are." you whispered to your phone that was sitting on the counter.

your eyes drifted to the note you had left earlier only it was gone. a new note sat in its place, a reply scrawled on it.

'ill have you know my mother is a very nice lady'

you smiled and rolled your eyes, slipping the note into your pocket as you walked briskly towards the jet. you walked out and saw reid waiting for you at the door of the jet, motioning frantically for you to board. you had taken a little too long looking at the note.

"10 more seconds before you're officially late!" he yelled, looking at his watch.

you broke out into a sprint, running as fast as you possibly could, trying to get across the runway in time.

"dont leave without me!" you yelled out, knowing they wouldn't.

you looked at the windows, seeing the team's faces pressed against the glass, watching amused.

"5 seconds!" he warned as you neared the stairs. "3..." almost there! "2..." just a few more steps. "1!" his arms shot up as you pushed past him into the jet, just in the nick of time.

"wow im impressed pretty lady!" morgan laughed, giving you a high-five which you exasperatedly accepted.

"have a seat y/l/n, we have a long flight." hotch said. you began thinking he was made at you but then you saw him trying to stifle a smile, "i dont think ive even seen you run like that in the field."

he held out his fist which you bumped with your own before flopping breathlessly down onto one of the chairs on the jet.

~time skip to the end of the case because i feel like it~

you walked out of the police department, watching your own breath swirl around the air in front of you.

"could you believe that detective?" jj scoffed walking with you towards the suvs in the parking lot.

"i know he was so...creepy." you agreed, "if i smelled his coffee breath one more time id take his tiny d-"

you didnt get to finish your sentence, though; you felt a cold snowball bash against the back of your head.

"gotta go!" jj laughed, hopping into one of the last suvs and driving off.

"whoever threw that snowball, your moms a hoe!" you yelled out crouching down to gather some snow.

"what?" spencer yelled, emerging from behind a trashcan.

"IT WAS YOU!" you laughed, throwing a snowball and hitting him straight in the chest.

"wait no. what did you just say?" he asked, eyes wide.

"i said whoever threw that snowball, your moms a hoe." you stated, suddenly feeling bad, "but not your mom, diana is-"

"a very nice lady." he finished, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crumpled little paper.

"oh my gosh," you breathed, pulling out a note from your own pocket.

"i had a feeling it was you!" he laughed.

you raised your eyebrows, "yeah right! you had no clue!"

"i totally did! i was like, 'hmmm who in the office talks like this? oh yeah my idiot best friend'." he countered, smirking.

"well i had a feeling it was you too!" you lied, crossing your arms.

"youre lying!" he laughed.

"no im not!"

"yes you are! you have a tell!"

"i do?!"

"yes! you purse your-" he swiftly reached to the floor and picked up a small amount of snow, wiping it across your mouth, "-lips."

the cool snow melted quickly on your now very warm face, causing you to instinctively wipe your it with your sleeve, "oh its on!"

snowballs were flying left and right in the nearly empty parking lot, seeking refuge all over your bodies. you watched him sneakily duck behind a trashcan, thinking you hadn't seen him. letting out a small chuckle you creeped towards the trashcan, standing behind him as he peered his head around the other side, looking for where you had gone. you took a small amout of snow and reached your arm around his head, wiping it against his mouth as he had. he jumped letting out a small scream before turning around and latching his arms around your waist.

he picked you up and spun you around, loosing his footing on the slippery, causing a strange mix of a laugh and a scream to escape your mouth. he fell back on a fresh layer of snow, with a dull thump. you fell directly on top of him, your foggy breaths melding together as your laughs started fading. his eyes flickered from your eyes down to your lips, a new rouge gracing his cheeks and nose, one that would be there regardless of the cold.

"ca-can i kiss you?" he asked, looking back up at your eyes.

"please." you smiled, heart close to bursting out of your chest as he closed the gap between you.

1K notes · View notes

btswrckd · 4 years ago

Text

War of Hearts

Mafia Boss!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with Kim Taehyung does not mean you have to be civil. Or make his life easy.

Warnings: mentions of violence, slight angst, mentions of weapons such as guns and knives, brief mention of smut, future smut

A/N: I wanted to post this as a one-shot, but naturally, I couldn’t condense it enough. There’s just too much that can’t be left out. But the good news is that I’m about 90% done with this fic and should be able to post it in maybe 3 parts. Enjoy guys!

Also, title is inspired by War of Hearts by Ruelle. Go listen to her music, it’s amazing!

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“You’re asking me to do what, now?” you hiss through clenched teeth, fingers curling into the underside of the armrest of the boarding room chair. How your idiot cousins managed to both purchase a rather nice building in the middle of the city, and run a legitimate business as a cover to their true nature, is a mystery to you. Yet here you are, ten seconds from launching yourself across the table to strangle either one of them.

“I don’t believe I stuttered,” Joongki is confident in the way he answers you and buttons his suit jacket. “And I didn’t ask you to do anything, I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”

Your eyes flicker to Jeonghan as he stands by his brother and nervously stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He catches your eye, licking his busted lip as you raise an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to confirm what Joongki just said. You watch his hand come up to rub at his sore jaw and get some satisfaction as he works his jawbone back and forth.

Joongki lets out a heavy sigh as his brother all but whimpers under your gaze. He was well aware of how much you’d fight their men in getting you to the building, but he wasn’t prepared for the strong swing of your fist, or the nearly deafening sound of said fist cracking his younger brother across the face.

“We’re all each other has,” Jeonghan finally pipes up after deducing that his jaw was not broken. “This is for your own safety, Y/N. I don’t like it any more than you do but there’s no other option.”

“I will not be thrown under lock and key just because you two have enemies.” You’re standing before either of them can argue. “I didn’t ask for this! For you two to be who you are and making my life more difficult than it already is!”

Joongki scratches at his brow when a mop of messily done up chestnut hair pops up over the cubicle wall separating her from the boarding room. He waves his secretary away with a slight twitch of his lips, watching the flushing of her cheeks and bobbing of her head before it disappears. He’s too busy smirking down at his feet to notice the way you swing around the chair. Or the way Jeonghan desperately reaches to stop you from storming out. What he does notice is the small ‘oomph’ leaving your mouth when you stumble into somebody, and suddenly he’s brought back to the importance of the situation.

You don’t expect to be stopped, you certainly don’t expect to be stopped by a firm chest and steadying hand on your hip. When you finally catch your bearings, you blink up at the man that had somehow walked into the room without making a sound. It’s with a heavy heart that you recognize this man despite having lost contact with him years ago. You were children when you’d last met so it takes you a minute to see him clearly, your eyes roving all over his face. Starting with what used to be his bouncy black locks that were now replaced with slicked down hair, to the never changing intensity of his dark brown eyes, down to the defined jaw that used to harbor a little bit of cute chub, and finally back up to his plush lips that split into a grin.

“You,” you breathe airily and your stunned reaction only makes his smile grow wider.

“You,” he mimics and tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise. “It’s nice to see you too, princess.”

“Mr. Kim,” Joongki reluctantly smiles while extending his hand to greet his rival, fingers tensing around the man’s answering hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m aware that my brother and I are asking a lot from you and that this situation isn’t exactly ideal for either party, but I just want to thank you for helping us out.”

“I never said this situation wasn’t ideal for me.” Kim Taehyung gave one final squeeze to Joongki’s hand before slipping it into the pocket of his pants. His other hand remains firm on your hip, the heat from his palm burning through the denim of your jeans and making your breath hitch. “I believe my father’s been hoping to merge our families for quite some time. I look at this as an opportunity rather than a ‘situation’.”

“Yes, well.” Joongki shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The Kim family had great influence over 90% of the city and before your grandfather’s passing, Mr. Kim had high hopes of taking two entities and making them one strong force. With your grandfather’s death came the need for new leadership and it fell heavily on Joongki’s shoulders. To say he’d snubbed the Kim family when it came to working together would be putting it lightly. “It seems your father will be getting exactly as he’s always wanted.”

Jeonghan thrusts an elbow to his older brother’s arm. He may not understand the magnitude of being a leader, but he knows when to play nice, and this moment called for practically kneeling down and kissing the Kim family’s feet. He looks to the way you stand stiff in Taehyung’s arms and the curling of your fingers against his suit vest. For a moment, he considers calling the entire thing off and convincing his brother to find another way to keep you safe. He opens his mouth to do just that when Taehyung speaks.

“I have every intention of keeping Y/N safe, be it from whoever is threatening you, my own family, or even you two.” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbles in his chest as his hand pulls you ever so slightly closer. “My father may have wanted this for some time, but believe me when I say that I’ve wanted it longer. Nothing and no one will hurt her, I promise you that.”

Jeonghan and Joongki share a concerned glance with each other before your voice breaks the silence.

“Kim Taehyung.” His name sounds foreign coming from your mouth. The last time you’d seen him you were being carted away by your parents at the age of 10. The sudden announcement of your family’s move left you waving to a chubby cheeked, teary eyed Taehyung as your father pulled away from your childhood home. They died not soon after and you were taken under the care of your grandfather along with Joongki and Jeonghan. But even after your grandfather reestablished a relationship with the Kim family, you hadn’t seen Taehyung again since that day.

“Princess,” he husks out, eyes dropping to your lips and thumb stroking your hip in soothing circles as if it were going to help any. Something dark is swirling in your eyes as you regard him, and he’s sure you don’t recognize it as lust but he does. He sees it fester and simmer before you blink it away and sneer up at him.

You cousins simultaneously wince as you draw back and take one quick strike to Taehyung, kneeing him in the groin with a huff before you stomp out of the room. When Taehyung slumps to the floor with a pain filled groan, Joongki feels a bit of sympathy for him. Your temper and raging need to fight against anything and everything to do with this life will be a daily struggle. Jeonghan coughs to hide his laugh as Taehyung’s right hand man looks torn between helping his boss, or chasing you down to make sure you don’t get too far. This will certainly be entertaining to watch.

------------------------------------------------------

“Let go of me!” you grunt out as Taehyung adjusts your frame on his shoulder. You’re kicking and pounding against his back with the hopes of getting free and escaping, but those hopes are dashed when he tosses you on the mattress of the master bedroom. You scramble back against the headboard as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolls up the sleeves. The frustrated roll of his shoulders and neck is undoubtedly sexy, but it also serves as a reminder that you aren’t meant to find him attractive. At all. As you curse yourself for even thinking as much, he’s snatching your ankles and dragging you down the bed.

Taehyung would never hurt you, he knows that you know that, but watching the small bit of fear flitting across your face has him smirking down at you. He plants both hands on either side of your head to cage you in, hips pressed to yours as you unconsciously widen them to accommodate his frame. “If you wanted to go out, princess, then you could have asked. Jungkookie and Jimin would gladly drive you wherever you want to go.”

“Even away from you?” You glare at him, panic washing over you when you feel the bed dip and he’s on his knees, the added weight pulling you closer to him. His arms slide forward until his nose grazes yours. He’s so close that he could kiss you and you think he’s going to until his nose skims down the length of your neck instead.

“There is no getting away from me, princess,” he whispers against your skin. “I’d think you’d know that by now. You’ve been trying to run from me for the last 6 months and it’s gotten you nowhere.”

You’d beg to differ, Being underneath him was surprisingly pleasant. The push of his hips against yours made you gasp and arch into his chest. You slam your eyes shut to get ahold of yourself, silently reciting your mantra of ‘I’m not a horny teenager, I’m a grown woman, and I am not attracted to my husband’.

Taehyung could smell the sweet scent of berries on your skin from that damn bottle of lotion you love so much. He didn’t think it was possible to be jealous of an inanimate object but he is. He’s also tempted to throw the stupid thing away and burn down every Bath and Body Works store so you can’t get another one. The image of your hands slathering the cream up and down your smooth legs makes him groan and push against you a little harder. He likes to think he isn’t some creep who forces himself on a girl, and if you weren’t so responsive, he wouldn’t even touch you without permission.

A lot of men in their line of work didn’t think consent was an issue, some of them even found the fight to be a turn on, and you’re grateful that Taehyung‘s not that kind of man. In fact, he’d said on several occasions that he wouldn’t come closer than necessary if you weren’t okay with it. He even went as far as sleeping in one of the many guest rooms in the house, dropping the one and only key to the master bedroom in your hand so only you had access to it. This went on for 2 months before you’d lashed out and tried sneaking off for a night out with friends. Naturally Taehyung had hunted you down and dragged you back to the house, lecturing you on the dangers of leaving without telling anyone where you’d be. The next morning his things had been moved into the room and he invaded every inch of your space every chance he got.

You didn’t want to admit that waking up to his face inches from yours was something you’d easily gotten used to, but then again you didn’t actually need to voice it out loud. Not when you’d woken up one morning to find your legs tangled with his, your arms tossed across his torso, and clinging to him like a koala. You had squeaked and fell out of bed in your haste to untangle yourself from him. He had woken up in fear that something happened, but chuckled when he saw you on the floor, blankets and sheets raveled around your legs. Embarrassed and flushed, you’d shot him a glare as he’d gotten out of bed and strode into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After that, you had made it your daily mission to see just how far you could push him to his breaking point. Little things such as “accidentally” walking away from Jimin or Jungkook in a crowded area, or turning down a meal that Seokjin had prepared because you were “exhausted” even though you’d done nothing that day, and even taking the hand of Namjoon or Hoseok once or twice instead of Taehyung’s when moving through a room full of people. You could see Taehyung’s frustration boiling beneath the surface and kicked it up a notch by giving your undivided attention to Yoongi during dinner one night. Yoongi of course, knew what you were doing and would have been scared of the repercussions of flirting with you if Taehyung hadn’t trusted him so much.

Yoongi played along with your little show, allowing you to lean in a little too close when talking, whispering in your ear about how much trouble you’d be in if Taehyung snapped, and letting you “subtly” run your finger across his knuckles. He had used his napkin to hide his smile when Taehyung had sprung up from his seat, snatched your wrist, and dragged you to the master bedroom. He had cleaned up the table and clapped Jimin and Jungkook on the shoulders, advising them to use headphones or sleep in the car for the rest of the night.

Taehyung had watched you stumble into the room, descending on you quickly when you had turned to yell at him. Whatever you were going to say had died on your tongue as he backed you against the wall, gripping your chin and hissing something about the possibility of killing Yoongi. You, equally as pissed, began to rant and scream about having your freedom taken away and wanting to teach Taehyung a lesson for confusing your already fogged up brain by being a gentleman rather than the piss poor excuse of a man most gang members are.

Taehyung had the audacity to smirk, fucking smirk, before crashing his mouth to yours and tangling his hand in your hair. He had tugged at the strands until you gasped and he slipped his tongue in to push against yours. He felt your hands wrenching the fabric of his dress shirt but he didn’t give you room to breathe, instead pressing you against the wall further. At some point he had started toying with the button to your jeans, waiting for your refusal, and when you hadn’t slapped him away, he popped the button open.

You had gasped loudly at the feel of his fingers, the rough pads running up and down your slit, stopping to press and rub at your clit before he was sinking his fingers in knuckles deep. You didn’t remember much else except for the overwhelming pleasure and the raspy sound of Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung echoing around the room. Afterwards, he had avoided you like the plague until you’d finally managed to corner him in the kitchen one night. You’d been huffy, demanding an explanation for his absence. Not that you’d missed him, of course. He’d said that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night and that he was sorry for losing control, to which you had scoffed. You clarified that discomfort wasn’t what you had felt, you were an adult, and just as willing as he was, and to stop tiptoeing around you.

“Princess,” the bane of your existence growls out, bringing you back to the present. He chuckles, deep and rich, and sends goosebumps across your skin. “For someone who wants to get as far away from me as possible, you don’t seem to be willing to let me go.”

You look down at your hands curled into his shirt and immediately release your hold. It seems you were too caught up in your trip down memory lane to notice. You drop your hands from his chest and avert your eyes to the door where two sharp knocks catch his attention as well.

“Boss,” Namjoon’s voice drifts through the wood, “your phone’s been ringing like crazy. Your father is trying to reach you.”

Taehyung sighs in disappointment and shifts away, pressing against your core one last time and you squeeze your legs together as if to keep him in place. He recognizes the faint blush on your cheeks as embarrassment and places a soft kiss to your cheek. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told, princess. I know you get a kick out of raising Jungkook’s blood pressure, but raising mine in the process will leave you widowed sooner than you’d think.”

You feel as though you’re finally able to breathe now that he’s out of the room and put a hand to your racing chest. It wasn’t just his blood pressure that’s been spiking lately. You sit up and tuck your arms beneath your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You really thought you were close this time around. The memory of being giddy as you tore through the airport to catch the plane to literally anywhere but here, only to freeze in the middle of the terminal as Taehyung stood in your way with his hands casually tucked in his pockets and his army of men around him. You run your hands through your hair and tug at the roots in anger, cursing your cousins and the day they were born.

Outside, Taehyung tugs at the buttons of his dress shirt while pressing his phone to his ear. “Dad?”

“Either your security system has gone to shit,” Mr. Kim calmly scolds his son, “or there’s a rat in your home. I’m looking through your camera footage as we speak, and unless I’m officially going senile, the cameras look like they’re in some kind of loop.”

“What kind of loop?” Taehyung is already making his way to the security room with Namjoon in tow.

“A car speeds past your security gate, seemingly at the same exact time every day, same make and model every time too. That’s not a coincidence, son, handle it quickly before it gets out of control.”

“On it.” Taehyung throws open the door to the security room, startling the guys watching the live feed from the cameras. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Behind you,” Yoongi’s voice makes his presence known, trailing in and sitting at his personal computer to go through the footage Taehyung is there to discuss. “Everyone out.”

The other two men scramble outside with break neck speed. If Yoongi and Taehyung are here then something only they know about is going on, and nobody wants to get caught in the middle of it unless necessary.

“What’s going on with our cameras?” Taehyung looks over Yoongi’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Nothing,” Yoongi sighs, pressing play on the paused screen while a miniature box with his personal coding pops up in the corner. “I noticed the same gray Tahoe driving down our street every day for the last week, and at first I thought somebody tampered with the cameras, so I built a code to filter through the system and push out whatever was installed to make this look like it’s on a loop. When nothing changed, I did some maintenance on the camera’s themselves, and still nothing. Someone is timing it just right to fool us, because check this out.” Yoongi pulls up another screen, zooming in on the corner of the frame where another car is doing a surprisingly good job of hiding. “So I can’t see who exactly the driver is, but I do know that they wait in this exact spot until the clock hits 3 on the dot. When that happens, they make a call, and out comes the Tahoe. Every. Single. Time.”

“One of ours?” Taehyung’s referring to one of the guys they keep on the property for extra measure.

“No one here did it. I rifled through their phones, computers, whatever I could and nothing popped up.” Yoongi confirms and points to the screen. “About an hour after the Tahoe zips by the screen, the car in hiding pulls out and goes the opposite direction, also part of tricking the cameras so we think there’s a glitch.”

“And the license plate?” Namjoon chimes in from the seat beside Yoongi.

“Belongs to a little old lady on the other side of the world. Looking for a date, Joon? She likes to read the same books you do and she crochets.” Yoongi jokes, “personally, I’d like a new sweater for Christmas.”

“Find out who it is.” Taehyung doesn’t laugh, not exactly appreciating the joke, and storms out of the room, throwing the door open so wide that it smacks against the wall.

----------------------------------------------------

You don’t recognize your own reflection. The woman in the mirror with foundation caked on much too heavily, curled and mascara filled lashes, and lips painted in a color that was meant to seem natural, did not look a thing like you. You’re close to wiping your face clean when the door to the room swings open and Jeonghan strolls in like he owns the place. It occurs to you that he probably does.

“What?” you huff at him as he comes up behind you.

“I know you’re angry,” he whispers, sadness in his eyes as he meets your reflection. “But we promised grandpa that we’d take care of you. Too much is happening for us to not take precaution. Everyone knows how much you mean to us and if they get to you, we’d be devastated.”

“Then why can’t I go abroad?” you ask, turning to him with pleading eyes and he takes a step back. You see tears building in his eyes as he takes in your appearance. He’s proud, you realize, as a smile spreads across his face. He’s proud of you, proud of who you are as a person despite the kind of business your parents ran.

“You’re gorgeous, little cousin,” Jeonghan lets out a shaky exhale, unprepared for the whirlwind of emotions slamming into him. “Grandfather, our parents, everybody would have loved to be here. To see you---.”

“Signing my life away?” you don’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. You don’t want to hear it. There was a time when you believed your wedding day would be a celebration, not a life sentence. You look down to the white of your dress, the gown suddenly felt too constricting and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. “I don’t want this, Joenghan, please don’t make me do this.”

“If this were anyone else, I’d whisk you away without argument.” Jeonghan looks away from your face to keep himself from ruining everything. “But this is Taehyung, Y/N. You used to be friends and you cared so much for each other. We’ve known the Kim family for so long now that this would have happened eventually, don’t you think?”

“I would have still liked to have the option!” You stand from the chair and stalk towards him. “My friendship with Taehyung ended when we were children. I don’t know who he is now or what he’s done to get this far, but I do know that anyone willing to go to this length to get what they want is not someone to be trusted.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Joongki steps into the room and looks to his brother to find relief crossing his face. “It seems I got here just in time, little brother, you look like you’re about to hurl.”

“She scares me,” Jeonghan admits while moving for the door. “Men with guns, knives, even the occasional psychopath I can handle, but Y/N? Nope, that’s asking too much.”

You glare at your cousin slipping outside before you can say more, and you turn to Joongki. “I’m not being dramatic, you jackass, I’m being logical. You guys have hovered over me my entire life, is it so wrong to want control over at least this part of it?”

“I don’t need to remind you that this is for your own safety.” Joongki’s tone is harsh, a complete contrast to Jeonghan, but harsh was something you could fight against. Harsh, you could throw back in his face. The gentle lull of Jeonghan’s voice, you couldn’t, and often found yourself feeling guilty for hurting him.

“I don’t need to remind you that even if my parents were still alive, this isn’t the life I would have chosen,” you spit back at your eldest cousin, watching his shoulders tense. “Even if grandfather were still alive, I would have fought tooth and nail against this just like I am now. What the hell, Joongki? Weren’t you the one that was opposed to merging the families in the first place? And what, because you and Jeonghan pissed off some people, I have to pay the consequences?”

“Powerful people, Y/N,” Joongki hisses at you, “powerful people that wouldn’t think twice about torturing you to get to us.”

“So then this is more about protecting yourselves than it is me?” Your chest rises and falls with the building anger, and he looks at you with so much fire in his eyes that you’re sure Joongki would strike you at any moment. “This is about not having to babysit me anymore and dumping me off on some poor sack whose life I’m about to make a living hell!”

“It was always about you!” Joongki roars, the volume making you drop your eyes to the ground as you had with your grandfather and father. They’d never hit you, never even so much as raised a hand to you, but they were able to correct your behavior with their voices alone. “We didn’t babysit you, Y/N, we took care of you. We are still taking care of you not because we think we’re obligated to, but because you are our baby cousin. The only family we have left and someone is threatening that, threatening you, and if you think that doesn’t haunt us every time you’re out of our sight, then you’re wrong. I’d do this for Jeonghan too if I had to, I’d even do it for myself, as long as all of us are safe and alive. You want to make a mess of Kim Taehyung? Go ahead, turn his life upside down if you want to, so long as you stay under their protection.”

“I don’t want protection, Joongki.” You look back at his face with a trembling lip. “I want freedom. I want to walk down the street without your men trailing me or the fear of looking back and finding that someone else is. This is your world, not mine. This was our parents world, it wasn’t ours until they were gone. They wanted more for us, Joongki, don’t you remember that?”

“I remember their broken and bloodied bodies when they crossed the wrong person. I remember their pale, lifeless faces in their caskets as you curled up in grandfather’s lap and fought your sleep for weeks afterwards. I remember the way you screamed every time you shut your eyes because all you could see was ‘the bad man with a gun’. I remember promising grandfather that I would do whatever it took to keep you and Jeonghan from suffering the same fate that our parents did.”

You turn away from him to peer out of the window, seeing the guests that consisted solely of friends and family on Taehyung’s side. Children ran across the yard, parents scolded them for dirtying their clothes, and as you glanced around you spotted Taehyung. He was standing with Jungkook, a man he kept close to his side out of trust, nodding along to whatever Jungkook was saying. There was no denying how handsome Taehyung was, or the way it sent shivers up your spine when a little girl ran to him and he scooped her up without hesitation. You didn’t know what the little girl was excited about, but you could guess it had to do with your soon to be husband with the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes. His eyes were warm when he looked at her, accepting the little flower she’d picked from the garden around the side of the house. He tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket, right where his heart was, and patted it gently in promise to keep it on. He set her down and she ran off with a giggle and a blush across her cheeks. You were staring too long, you knew, because he felt it. Taehyung peered up at the window in time to catch you moving away.

“Y/N,” Joongki whispers to catch your attention. “Please don’t be stubborn about this. Taehyung’s family may run in the same circles as our parents, but they’ve always been kind to us. My refusal to bring the families closer didn’t stop them from keeping a relationship with us.”

“Maybe it’s out of pity.” You try one last time to get under his skin, but you know better than anyone that he’s tired. Tired and defeated and hanging on by a thread.

“Even if it was out of pity, that’s something we can use right now.” He comes up behind you, smoothing down the back of your hair and leaving a kiss to the top of your head. He presses his forehead to the spot he just kissed and sighs. “Mr. Kim could think the lowest of me and the mess I’ve made of our family’s reputation, and I’d still take his help if it meant I didn’t lose you or my brother.”

-------------------------------------------------

“You know, eventually,” Jimin sighs tiredly, trailing behind Taehyung as they walk into the house, “people are going to call the cops for kidnapping.”

“The cops aren’t stupid enough to go against our family,” Taehyung grunts out, the squirming and fidgeting nearly made him lose his grip more than once. It was admirable, at first, when you’d begun thrashing against him, believing you could truly break free. Now, it was a nuisance, and he promptly drops you on your ass in the middle of the living room.

“Asshole!” You seethe, jumping back to your feet and wincing at your sore bottom. You have no idea what set Taehyung off at the mall, but you’re pissed that he ruined the first outing you were actually excited about. One minute, you were browsing through your favorite section at the bookstore, and the next, he was dragging you out by the hand. In the car on the way over, he hadn’t spoken a word, refusing to explain himself, so you refused to get out of the car when Jungkook pulled into the driveway. Apparently, Taehyung wasn’t so mad that he couldn’t throw you over his shoulder and march into the house.

“Jesus, Taehyung, what the hell is your problem?!”

“Who was he?” Taehyung demands, shooing Jimin and Jungkook to the other room. He grits his teeth when Jungkook hesitates to move. ”Jeon Jungkook, did I or did I not tell you leave?”

“You’re pissed, Taehyung, and look like you could tear someone’s head off,” Jungkook fires right back and looks past his boss to you. You may not be afraid of Taehyung’s temper, but Jungkook is. He’s seen what Taehyung and his temper could do to things and people, and he’ll be damned if you end up hurt because of it.

“That head could be yours if you don’t get the hell out of my sight,” Taehyung snaps, “go!”

“Go, Kook,” you agree with Taehyung. You’ve never seen him go at Jungkook like this and it isn’t helping if Jungkook keeps defying Taehyung, so removing him from the situation seems like the logical answer at the moment. “It’s ok. Just go, please.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw and turns to leave with much reluctance. He’s out of sight but not out of ear shot when Jimin meets him halfway. “He’s going to hurt her, you and I both know that.”

“It’s not as serious as you think.” Jimins pats his shoulder, reassuring him that everything will be fine. “You know that someone’s been circling the house, and had Y/N not insisted on going out today, then Taehyung wouldn’t have been so on edge to start with. There’s too many people at the mall, too many entrances and exits, too many cracks to be slipped through, too many opportunities for someone to get at Y/N if they tried. Trust me, Jungkookie, this anger that you think Taehyung has is actually fear, okay? So leave them be to hash it out and we’ll go running in the second something seems off.”

Back in the living room, Taehyung is pacing, running a hand down his face, and seeming like he’s having trouble putting into words what exactly he’s upset about. When he finally stops, it’s simply to stalk towards you and stand toe to toe. “Why are there rules, princess, hm? Why do I tell you to stick to Jungkook and Jimin like glue when we’re out? Why do you think I stick to you like fucking glue when we’re out?”

“Oh, so it’s ‘princess’ now?” you scoff. “A minute ago, you wouldn’t say a damn thing, but now you’re asking me to recite some bogus ass rules like I’m in primary school. You don’t get to be pissed in this situation, Taehyung, not when I’m the one who’s getting zero explanation for your outburst.”

“I don’t need to explain myself,” he raises his voice, not quite yelling. “I need you to fucking listen when one of us tells you to do something. The guys aren’t here for decoration, Y/N, they’re here to keep you safe, but they can’t do that when you insist on being a brat.”

“I’m not a fucking brat!” you screech loud enough for half the world to hear. It’s actually surprising that Taehyung’s eardrum didn’t burst.

“Well, you’re not exactly a fucking saint,” Taehyung counters and it’s your turn to start pacing, your hands gripping onto the roots of your hair.

“Oh, my God,” you laugh humorlessly, “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God, Kim Taehyung! You irritating, overbearing, senseless piece of---.” You don’t know what possesses you to swing your hand out, palm open, and try to slap his face.

He catches your wrist, sees the immediate regret in your eyes, yet still hauls you to the nearby wall. He presses you to the plastered surface, using his free hand to box you in so you can’t run away. Truthfully, he’d let go the second you ask, but a line has to be drawn. You have to, absolutely have to start listening to him and the other guys, otherwise something could go very, very wrong.

“Want to hit me, princess?” he hisses inches from your face as he leans in. “Want to get violent because you can’t do whatever you want anymore? That’s pretty ironic for someone who cried at the mere thought of being hit. I can barely raise my hand to you, but you can swing at me all you want, is that it? That’s not how it works, princess, I suggest you learn that real quick. Now you owe me something for trying to hit me. I let that shit go when you first kneed me in the balls, so it’s more like you owe me two, but I’m nice enough to collect on just one. Tell me who your little friend was in the bookstore.”

You’d like to think you’re not scared, yet it was evident what Taehyung was really capable of when pushed too far. He’s been patient with you, far too patient, and willingly plays along with whatever bullshit you pull for the day. It’s amazing he hasn’t broken your wrist for trying to slap him. Especially, when you know good and well that you wouldn’t hesitate to break his if the roles were reversed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no friend in the bookstore.”

“The guy, princess,” he hisses, momentarily tightening his grip. “The guy in the store that was happily chatting you up. Who was he?”

You wrack your brain for this person he’s talking about and it’s like a cartoon light bulb goes off above your head. “The man who was talking to me about the book in my hand?”

“Yes, that guy.”

“He’s not a friend,” you insist, glaring at your husband, “just some stranger trying to hit on me. Is that what this is about? Some random guy trying to get my number? Your jealousy is really unparalleled, Kim.”

“I wasn’t jealous. Even if I was, you wouldn’t be the one I’d take it out on.That ring on your finger is there for a reason, anyone who can’t respect it or the boundaries it represents won’t live to see the next day. I’m asking about this ‘random’ guy because I don’t think he was random at all, I think he approached you with a purpose.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is afraid of you, Taehyung.” You relax now that he’s calmer than before. The grip on your wrist was loose and he was drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb.

“No, princess, they’re not afraid of me in front of you because they have a hard time believing anyone as gorgeous as you would have anything to do with someone like me.” He slumps against your frame, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you ask with shaky breaths. It wasn’t easy to hold him up and he wasn’t even putting his full weight on you. “Better yet, why didn’t you ask him right then and there?”

“Where do you think he is now, baby?” Taehyung opens his mouth against your neck, working the flesh between his teeth and using his tongue to soothe the sting before he bites down again. He feels your fingers grip his hair, to hold him in place or tug him away, he doesn’t know. He just knows that you haven’t recoiled from his touch yet.

Your head lulls back and your eyes shut on their own accord. Your hand also has a hard time listening to your brain as it reaches out to hook a finger in his belt loop and pull him closer. He obliges, using one knee to part your thighs and press against you. The sudden feel of his muscled thigh putting pressure against your clothed core makes you jump in his hold. When he flexes that muscle, you gasp and buck your hips. So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re riding his thigh, and he’s moving his mouth to the other unmarked side of your neck.

You choose an awfully slow pace for someone trying to get off. Taehyung’s done marking up the skin of your neck with deep shades of purple and can finally pull back a bit to admire you. He presses his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless moan and your face contorts with pleasure. You’re riding him slow, but with a purpose, he realizes, intent on enjoying every single push and pull of your hips. Both of your hands lock together at the nape of his neck and you whimper at your building orgasm. You don’t recall the coil in your belly winding as tight as it is right now with anyone else. No, only Taehyung can evoke this kind of reaction.

You know he can feel the wet patch growing on his pants and you’re thankful that he doesn’t comment on it. In fact, he’s rather quiet for someone who’d been scolding you just moments before. You don’t look at his face, not purposefully ignoring him, but completely mesmerized by the deep onyx color of his pants growing even deeper the wetter it gets. You clench around nothing, nearly sobbing at the empty feeling and rocking your hips just a little bit faster than before. You want more, you need more, you need, “your hand,” you gasp out to him. “I need your hand, Tae, please.”

“I can’t do that ,baby,” he groans at having to deny you, ready to shoot himself in the foot for being all too in control. “If I touch you, I won’t stop.”

“You did before.” You want to cry. You’re probably going to cry soon if you don’t get what you want.

“Barely, princess. I barely controlled myself last time. If I do it now, I’ll take you against this wall, and then every other surface of this house. You’re not ready for that yet. You can do this. Cum against me like this, baby, I know you can.”

You’re close, so fucking close but then...

“Hey, boss-- oh shit, sorry!” Seokjin’s shoes squeak against the tiled floor as he quickly spins around to face literally anywhere but you and Taehyung. “Uh, Namjoon and Hoseok need you for something.”

“What?” Taehyung growls out, watching your entire neck and face flush a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. “What could they possibly fucking need in this exact moment that you can’t handle, Seokjin?”

“Uh, th-they didn’t say,” Seokjin stammers, silently cursing Namjoon and Hoseok for sending him to get Taehyung instead of doing it themselves. Those little bastards had to have known Taehyung was busy. And you. Oh, the look on your face when you saw him hurt his heart. He knows how mortified you feel at having been caught. He can hear the rustling of clothes as you gather yourselves, the panting breaths of two frustrated adults doing adult things, and holy crap Seokjin wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I can tell them you’re busy, if you need me to.”

“No!” you squeak, shoving Taehyung away harder than you meant to, and Seokjin jolts at the octave of your voice. “I mean, no. Tae’s not...Taehyung isn’t busy. I’m-- I have to be...anywhere that’s not here.”

Seokjin hears you run off, the patting of your shoes carries you across the house with speed he didn’t think anyone but an olympic track star had. He doesn’t want to turn around. He’d kill to not have to turn around.

“If this isn’t as urgent as they made it out to be,” Taehyung’s voice is steely, cruel as he approaches Seokjin, “then all 3 of you are getting tossed into the river, do you hear me?”

“Understood.” Seokjin holds his breath while Taehyung shoulders past him, ducking his head down and following close behind.

Yoongi is busy deleting all the footage from the past hour when Taehyung barges in. “I’m already on it, and no, I didn’t watch it. I’m not some greasy perv. None of the other guys were in here either. I kicked them out as soon as you had Jungkook and Jimin leave you two alone.”

“Right now, Yoongi, you and Jimin are the only ones safe from me.” Taehyung leaves feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d at least be spared from the entire house knowing what happened.

Seokjin stops in the doorway of the security room. “You little kiss ass.”

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m doing my job.” Yoongi smirks at him. “It’s not my fault Namjoon and Hobi threw you under the bus.”

“So they did know!” Seokjin has half a mind to pummel the both of them.

“Oh, they knew. Namjoon was actually on his way to the living room when Jimin and Jungkook stopped him.”

“I’ll kill them,” Seokjin swears, “I’ll kill all of them.”

“Seokjin, get your ass over here now!” Taehyung’s voice booms, making Seokjin jump and scurry in his direction.

Namjoon and Hoseok are in the garage, standing a few feet away from the poor bastard tied to a chair. When Taehyung had called them earlier to pick up the guy talking to you at the bookstore, they didn’t imagine he’d look like an average Joe. Guys in the mafia tend to dress nice, carry themselves a certain way, even walk and talk a certain way. But this guy. This guy looks like he could be an accountant or a librarian.

“Man, this is going to really suck if he’s not working for anyone,” Hoseok comments, almost feeling guilty. “He really could be just some guy who saw a pretty girl and tried to get her number.”

“I’d agree if he wasn’t carrying Cecil’s business card.” Namjoon hands the man’s wallet to Hoseok.

“It must be nice to have such a big ego that you’d make professional hitman cards and label them as ‘business’.” Hoseok rifles through the wallet, pulling out credit cards, debit cards, cash, a few photos, until he finally finds a little white paper with Cecil’s number scrawled across it. “I’d hardly call this a business card.”

“Hobi, focus,” Namjoon reminds him, tilting his head in the man’s direction.

“Alright.” Hoseok approaches the man and bends to his sitting height, producing an I.D. card. “Sunho. How do you know Y/N?”

“Who?” Sunho whimpers, blood seeping from his busted lip. “I-I don’t even know who that is.”

“Seemed pretty chummy with her in the bookstore this afternoon.”

“That girl?” Sunho is quick to shake his head. “I just thought she was really cute, that’s all. I didn’t know she was married.”

“Ok, then how do you know Cecil?” Hoseok moves on to the next question without missing a beat.

“I don’t, I swear!”

“Why else would you have his card?” Namjoon asks as the garage door swings open, a very pissed looking Taehyung strolling in a second later. He whistles low and grips the back of Hoseok’s shirt to haul him out of Taehyung’s path.

“Oh, hey, Seokjin.” Hoseok shoots him a teasing smile. “I see you were able to get Taehyung’s attention.”

“I swear to God, I will fuck you up right here and now, Hobi.” Seokjin glares at the younger man before turning his attention to Taehyung and Sunho.

“Sunho,” Taehyung sighs, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I was very, very fucking busy inside my home and I was interrupted before anything productive got done.” He shoots forward and braces his hands on the arms of the chair Sunho is tied to. “So you see, I’m not in the mood for playing games. I’m going to explain to you how this works very carefully. Ready?”

Sunho manages a pathetic nod and Taehyung stands straight while undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves and rolls them up his forearms. He swallows the saliva gathered on his tongue, panic washing over him when Taehyung produces a crowbar from the workbench he’s only now seeing.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Taehyung explains, pointing one end of the crowbar at Sunho. “If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you go. Pay for the hospital bill that’s sure to wrack up given what these two have done to you,” he pauses to point at Namjoon and Hoseok, “and set you up for life as an apology. Sound fair?” He doesn’t wait for Sunho’s reply before continuing. “But if you lie to me, this crowbar will be the least of your worries, definitely one of the less painful weapons in our arson. Now tell me, how do you know Cecil?”

Sunho’s face is covered in tears by the time Taehyung is finished talking. His body shakes with how hard he sobs. “He ap-approached me last month, p-paid me $3,000 to drive a gray Tahoe down whatever street his guys called from. I didn’t think anything of it, until it got really weird. I noticed they’d only call me once a day at 2 or 2:30, tell me to wait at the end of your block until it hit 3 on the hour and then drive past the gate. They gave me your wife’s picture and told me to keep an eye out for her. When I realized they were stalking her, I thought I should warn her.”

“So you followed us to the mall?” Taehyung asks, crouching down to look Sunho in the eye. He uses the end of the crowbar to lift Sunho’s chin up. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what I could say,” Sunho sobs harder. “I mean, I-I was helping them stalk her. She’d think I was crazy if I just came right out and said it. So, I just walked up and asked her about the book she had. I didn’t know what the fucking title was, I just knew she had to be warned. I didn’t get that far before you came up and took her away.”

“Did Cecil tell you what he wanted with her?”

“No. Just to drive the car and watch out for her.”

Taehyung looks back to Hoseok, taking the picture from his outstretched hand. He observes the photo quietly. “These your kids, Sunho?”

“Yes.” Sunho’s bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t hurt them! Please! They’re just kids to a shitty father drowning in debt. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Did Cecil threaten them?” Seokjin comes up behind Taehyung, scanning the faces of two kids that couldn’t more than 8 and 10 years old.

“He said I could either take the job willingly,” Sunho cries, snot and tears mixing together at his top lip, “or I could watch him torture my kids until I accept it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Their grandparents’ house. Their mother died 3 years ago, it’s just me and them. I gave them to their grandmother the same day Cecil came to me.”

“Why you?” Hoseok wonders aloud. “There’s professionals out there to get jobs like this done. Hell, even Cecil’s guys, as dumb as they are, could do a better job than you did. Their morality wouldn’t get in the way either, that’s for sure. So what makes you so special for a job like this?”

“My kids’ mother.” Sunho releases a fresh round of tears. “She was a girl he’d taken care of in her teenage years when she was a waitress at some dingy dive bar. There was an accident 3 years ago. A head on collision with a drunk driver. Cecil hates that I survived but she didn’t. This is his way of getting back at me, I guess.”

Taehyung stands, makes his way to the workbench, and drops the crowbar on it. He braces his hands against the bench as Namjoon steps up next to him. “Yoongi?”

“Pulled up hospital records, a death certificate, and foreclosure notices on the house,” Namjoon confirms Sunho’s story. “It all checks out.”

“Get the kids, take Sunho, and get them as far away from here as possible. We’ll clean up his debt and set him up with enough to get himself started again.” Taehyung nods at Namjoon, but stops him before he gets too far away. “You make sure he understands that he needs to get his shit together. And to call us if anything happens, we’ll move his family again if we have to. Go.”

Namjoon gestures Hoseok to follow his lead, untying Sunho and ushering him into one of the many SUVs in the garage. He slides into the driver’s seat as Hoseok jumps into the passenger side, and he backs out of the garage to start his orders.

“Think Cecil would know we’d look into Sunho and set up fake accounts?” Seokjin asks Taehyung, following him on their way out of the garage.

“Yoongi will catch it if anything is fake.” Taehyung undoes the top three buttons on his dress shirt. It’s late, he’s exhausted, and he just wants to climb into bed next to you as soon as possible.

“Do you think Cecil’s after Y/N herself, or just trying to get to the Seong brothers?”

“We’ll be finding out soon.” Taehyung claps Seokjin on the shoulder before going his separate way. “And yes, Seokjin, it was important, so you can sleep peacefully knowing that you get to see tomorrow.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king size bed, crossword book out, and pencil scribbling across the empty spaces, when Taehyung comes back into the room. You want to say something, want to talk about what happened, but it wasn’t the first time the two of you had gotten a little too carried away. Well, more so you than him earlier when you’d begged for his touch, and then Seokjin had walked in. You’ve never, in your entire life, been more humiliated and turned on at the same time, and some part of your brain insists that it really wouldn’t have been bad if Seokjin hadn’t interrupted. You certainly wouldn’t have had to take a cold shower, that’s for sure.

“You’re still up,” Taehyung comments softly as if he hadn’t seen the light peeking out from underneath the door. He’d dismissed Jungkook before opening the door, expecting you to have simply fallen asleep while reading as usual. He’s unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders when his ears pick up the rustling of bedsheets.

His back muscles flex with each move and you bite down on your tongue for composure. “You didn’t apologize to Kook for snapping at him earlier.”

“Jungkook understands that when he’s told to do something, he does it. If he wants to fight back against his orders and be a rebel, then he’s going to be treated as such.” Taehyung unclasps the watch on his wrist, setting it down on the dresser. “If sometimes I go too far, they don’t expect an apology.”

“Because you don’t know how to give one?” Your tone is sarcastic and it makes him smile even though you can’t see his face. “Or you just don’t want to?”

“Because I don’t need to.” His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling the leather band and sliding it out from the loops of his pants. “We’ve been a tight group for a long time, but I’m still their boss and sometimes I need to be more strict than usual. The fact that Jungkook hasn’t been strung up by his feet and left to bleed out for arguing with me earlier says a lot already.”

“I know,” you answer immediately, having seen that very scenario dozens of times before either by accident or because your grandfather wanted to remind you and your cousins of what happens to people that can no longer be trusted. “This is the only time Jungkook’s gone against you, Taehyung, you know that.”

Taehyung whirls around to face you, understanding and patience written all over his face. “I need to make sure that it stays the only time he’ll go against me. The only reason he isn’t dead now is because it was on your behalf, which is his job. Yes, it’s unfair of me to be pissed at him for doing exactly what he’s supposed to, but when you’re with me there’s nothing to be afraid of and he needs to understand that.”

“Something in you scared him today,” you argue as he turns back to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and plain gray t-shirt. “Something in you scared me. It’s like a switch went off inside of your head and you became an entirely different person.”

“I am who I need to be when the situation calls for it.” Taehyung steps up to the bed and braces one arm on the mattress as he leans closer, touching his forehead to yours. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess, that’s my fault and I’m sorry. I want to say you’ll never have to see it again, but you know as well as I do that it would be a lie. What I can tell you is that it won’t always happen, I swear that to you. Right now, with whatever Joongki and Jeonghan have going on, and the spike in threats against your family, the boys and I are on edge more than normal.” He cups your face with his other hand after dropping his spare clothes to the bed. “It won’t always be this way.”

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life to have fallen into the Kim family, or what you did to deserve one of the rarer, kinder mafia bosses that is Kim Taehyung. You’ve come to realize that you don’t hate Taehyung or any of the boys, but you hate the circumstances behind your being in his home. You’ve always detested this life and after your grandfather’s death, you vowed to get away from it. You didn’t take into account how quick Joongki would jump to throw you under lock and key, only ever gifting the small amount of freedom that came with having to attend your full time job.

Taehyung hadn’t expected your kiss, the soft press of your lips against his and the touch of your fingers wrapping around his wrist has goosebumps rising on his skin. You don’t kiss him often, only when you’re out at a charity event or at dinner with his parents, and even then it’s a small peck to keep up appearances. You push your tongue against his and he groans, slipping his fingers into your hair and stepping back as you rise up to your knees. The soft pads of your fingers trace up the path of his jawline until they tangle in his soft black locks, and then you’re tugging on the strands to tip his head back.

His other hand is at your hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shirt to rub circles in your skin. He doesn’t know what brought on this sudden affection, but he isn’t complaining. Your fingers card through his hair, one hand tracing down the broad plain of his chest and bare skin burning the tips of your fingers as they reach the waistband of his pants. He hisses out a small ‘fuck’ against your mouth when your hand slips into his boxers, toying with the length of him. Holy shit, he’s huge, and you moan into another kiss as you have a hard time wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s thick and long, you note, using the tips of your nails to gently trace the veins running along his shaft. Precum pools at the tip and you circle your thumb around him to gather enough of it before pumping your hand down, then back up, and then back down again.

“What are you doing, princess?” Taehyung nearly chokes on the words as he pulls away from the kiss. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and he’s very near collapsing to his knees if you keep this up. He grits his teeth as the hand in his hair dives into his boxers to join the other, pumping along his cock in tandem. His fingers tighten in your hair, twisting the locks at the base of your neck and you gasp gently at the feeling.

“Earlier, in the living room,” you whisper against his lips, “I was so close to coming against your thigh, but then Seokjin walked in.”

“To be fair,” he growls out and bucks his hips against your hands, “I threatened to kill him for it, so---.” He does choke this time as you squeeze him just a little harder.

“You know what happened when I came back to the room, Tae?” You give him a sweet smile, but you know he can see the devious intentions behind it. “I got stuck having to take a cold shower. I’d blame Jin, but you’re the one who started it, aren’t you?”

“Baby,” he groans, “please don’t---.”

You’re pulling back, taking your hands with you, and falling back onto the mattress before he can finish his plea. You bounce slightly against the bed as you giggle at the death glare he gives you, his chest is heaving and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. “Not so fun when it’s you, is it, Tae?”

Taehyung heaves out a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. I take responsibility for leaving you the way I did.” He snatches your ankles, chuckling at the yelp that leaves you, and drags you down the bed. He spreads your thighs to make room for his hips and rocks against you. The thin material of your pajama pants does nothing to shield the feeling of his hard on pushing against your clothed core. You still feel every inch of him and your mouth drops open as he grinds his hips. “But what you call punishment, I call a reward, princess.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, his laugh echoing from the bathroom, and you bolt up to hurl a pillow at the door. Why is he so much better at this than you are?!

---------------------------------------------

Taehyung’s home is gorgeous. Well, you suppose it’s your home now too, but the fact that you’re about to be thrown into a house full of strange men and monitored 24 hours a day, doesn’t take away from its beauty. You thought the security gates were a little much when Jungkook first drove through them, yet it’s clear now why they’re necessary. A two story estate looms over you as Jungkook opens the SUV door so you can climb out.

“Welcome home, princess.” Taehyung stands in the middle of the foyer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants. He’d had every intention of being with you in that SUV after the reception, but his father had hauled him away for some ‘unfinished business’ with the Ahn family.

“More like a prison,” you mutter while Jungkook takes the backpack hanging from your shoulder. He hoists it over his own and grabs the handle of your rolling suitcase, waiting to see what your next move is. “The word ‘home’ doesn’t exactly come to mind, Kim.”

Taehyung hums, crossing the foyer in quick strides before he’s gripping your chin and pulling you so close that you stand on the tips of your toes. He feels the clenching of your jaw against his fingers and briefly worries that you’ll end up chipping a tooth with how hard you grind your teeth together. “Call it what you want, Y/N, but this is where you’ll be for a very long time. I suggest you get used to it.”

“Boss.” Jungkook clears his throat, eyes darting to the strong grip Taehyung has on your face before they’re matching his gaze. The slight tilting of his head serves as a warning and Taehyung nods in recognition before releasing his hold. When Jungkook had first been told that he would be your personal guard from now on, he vowed to do his best, even if it meant going against Taehyung from time to time.

You sneer at Taehyung when he smiles at Jungkook. Whatever passes between them in the look they share is unclear, and it bothers you. If Taehyung’s rough handling was meant to scare you, and Jungkook’s swift response to it was meant to deter that fear, then they were both failing. Miserably. It’s not that you’re afraid of Taehyung, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s how quick he can be at changing his entire persona in a matter of seconds.

Jungkook puts his free hand on the small of your back to guide you forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living room. He watches you scan the surroundings, gaze lingering a little too long on the loose objects Taehyung has chosen to decorate with. He makes a mental note to have those removed for the time being until you’re settled in enough to not try and kill Taehyung. It’s understandable that you’re frustrated, and angry, and hurt, but it’s also easy for those feelings to boil over and turn into something disastrous. He leads you through the room to the adjoining dining room, then the kitchen, and finally stopping at a door.

“It’s your room,” he explains as he opens the door and shuffles inside the much too big room meant for you. It’s bigger than the entirety of your last two apartments combined. He sets your backpack on the bed before rolling your suitcase over to the dresser in the corner of the room. Leaving the suitcase be for you to unpack at your leisure, he moves for the bathroom that you didn’t even notice was there at first. He comes out soon after and pulls open the doors to the walk-in closet, scanning it from top to bottom.

He’s checking for anything out of place, you realize, as Jungkook seems satisfied enough to make his way back to you. He isn’t anything like you imagined Taehyung’s men would be, the first couple of encounters with him should have been enough to tell you that. You had just been so adamant in hating this part of it to realize that Jungkook would most likely end up being your only friend. Your actual friends weren’t invited to the wedding out of fear of who may have been there. Exposing them to this life was never an option and you’d been doing a damn fine job of it since high school. Until Jeonghan had spilled the beans about your upcoming nuptials and the girls became giddy. Their faces had dropped when you lied that only a handful of people could attend, and they weren’t on the guest list. It took weeks of groveling for them to finally cave and forgive you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. He quirks a brow when you shake your head in apology. “Are you alright?”

“I was just thinking,” you say, letting your eyes float around the room once more. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

“Not just for checking the room,” you clarify, “but for not making me feel so out of place. I really appreciate it.”

“Jungkookie’s always been good at making people comfortable,” a voice has you spinning around quickly, a hand pressed to your racing heart. The owner of the voice beams like he’s just won the lottery, clearly amused at successfully scaring you. “Y/N. I’m Park Jimin. I’ll be accompanying you and Jungkook every time we leave the grounds.”

“Right,” you heave. Catching your breath seems to be a new level of difficulty for some reason. Well, there was one reason, actually.

Taehyung had been right behind you and Jungkook the entire time. Quietly observing you and the reaction you’d have to the house. He’d also been leaning against the doorjamb while Jungkook combed through the room. Which means he’d also heard your gratitude for the younger man and you pale at the thought of what might happen to Jungkook now. Not all bosses like when their wives become chummy with other men, especially if it’s a man they trust, and you fear you may have gotten Jungkook in trouble.

“Do you think of Jungkookie as comfortable, princess?” Taehyung pins you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. He sees the look of panic in your eyes as you struggle for words. When you open your mouth to answer, he cuts you off with a stern, “Don’t. Lie. To me.”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, clenching your hands into fists. Fear runs down your spine when Taehyung pushes away from the door and draws near. You flinch when his hand reaches out, your body going stiff to brace for the sting of his palm against your cheek. But he doesn’t hit you, his hand frozen mid-air at your reaction. It’s when you feel the slight tug on a single strand of hair that you realize he’d meant to pet your head. You meet his eyes with tears welling in your own, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths.

“I’d never hurt you, Y/N,” Taehyung whispers, reaching out once more to graze the backs of his fingers against your cheek. The wet heat of a single tear sliding down your face catches on his knuckles and he grits his teeth. “Has anyone ever hit you before?”

Jungkook and Jimin immediately come closer to hear your answer. If anyone had ever laid a hand on you, they wouldn’t wait for Taehyung’s order to find and kill whoever it was. You aren’t just the boss’ wife, you’re theirs to protect now, and they intend on doing just that.

“No.” You turn away from Taehyung’s touch, drawing back to both create some much needed space, and to reel in the flood of emotions you didn’t expect to feel. Being a leader in a crime syndicate meant being vicious and violent, even to your own family if it proved a point. Taehyung was neither of those things, a heavy reminder of how gentle your father and grandfather would be with any woman or girl important to them. “No one’s ever...it’s just something I’ve seen many times before, is all.”

“To someone important?”

“To people who were people and deserved to be treated as such. Not like the punching bags they became because their boss couldn’t push aside his pride or ego.” You take another step back only to bump into Jungkook’s chest. Damn it. Too many people surround you, too many are witness to how easily you can crumble, and you want them out. You want room to breathe and catch your bearings. You also want the privacy to unpack your stuff.

“Out,” Taehyung demands from Jungkook and Jimin, neither men hesitate to do as they’ve been told. He moves for the door right after them, hesitating with his hand on the knob. Looking back over his shoulder, he sees you pulling a laptop from your backpack, along with a few romance novels and a jumbo book of crossword puzzles.

“Jimin isn’t the only one of the members you’ll be meeting today,” the softness of Taehyung’s voice makes your chest tight as you look up at him. “There’s 3 others roaming around here somewhere and another that’s away on an assignment, but he’ll be back soon.”

You nod your understanding, picking up a book to occupy your hands to keep your fingers from picking at the cuticles of your nails. It was something you’d always done when you got nervous, a bad habit that needed to be gotten rid of.

“I don’t want to do this to you, princess,” he states it like an apology as you draw your brows together in confusion, “but I’m going to take your laptop and phone.”

“Why?” One hand immediately falls to the computer he’s stepping back into the room for. You almost wrestle it away when his long fingers swipe it from the bed. “It’s important, Taehyung. I use it to edit my friend’s photos. She’s a photographer and I help her clean them up when she needs it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He grips the computer closer to his side and holds his palm out. “You’ll get it back soon, I promise. I need your phone.”

“What if Joongki and Jeonghan call?” you scoff, because of fucking course Taehyung knows what you do in your spare time. “They’ll get worried if I don’t answer.”

“That’s a pretty weak excuse given how you tore into them after the reception. I might not have left with you, but I heard all about the way you swore you wouldn’t be speaking to your cousins anytime soon.”

“My friends will think I’m dead if I don’t answer their texts.”

“Your friends,” Taehyung steps closer and leans in, hovering inches away from your lips, “know that you got married today. They know that you’ll be occupied with your new husband. I can bet they’re wondering what you’re doing right this second, but can’t bring themselves to ask lest they interrupt what may be going on.”

Your back hits a wall you hadn’t realized he’d been backing you into. He’s not close enough to touch, yet that’s exactly what you want to do and find yourself pressing the book in your hand to his chest instead.

“I bet they’re wondering if you’re enjoying yourself,” he continues, pressing his forehead against yours. The back of your head thumps against the wall gently with the pressure as he uses it to keep your eyes on him. “They’re wondering if your new groom satisfies you enough, princess. If he’s kissing you like you deserve to be, touching you in all the right places,” his free hand clamps onto your waist, thumb dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to feel your skin, “if he’s able to hit that right spot inside of you over, and over, and over.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slides higher beneath the t-shirt you’d stupidly changed into before coming to the house. His fingers are hot against your skin as they’re splayed along your ribcage.

“I can do all of that for you if you’ll let me, princess,” Taehyung growls without meaning to. He’d only meant to distract you enough to take your phone. However, he’d somehow managed to arouse both himself and you with the way you clench your thighs together. Still, even knowing how turned on you are, he doesn’t press any closer than he already is. His hand doesn’t move any further up your torso though his thumb still rubs smooth circles on your skin. “I can make you feel so good, you’d forget your own name.”

You inhale sharply. You know he can and that he’d be the best you ever had. But giving in now, on your very first hour inside the new house, would be grounds for Taehyung to think you’re actually on board with this whole thing. So you do what you do best, argue. “You really think so highly of yourself, huh, Kim? I’m pretty sure I’ve had better.”

“Don’t push buttons when you don’t understand the consequences,” he whispers darkly, “or throw out empty challenges like that. I might be inclined to take them if you keep it up.”

You open your mouth to fight back, but a yelp comes out instead when his hand rips itself from underneath your shirt and is swiping the phone from your back pocket quickly. You aren’t prepared for him to reel back soon after, nearly losing your balance without him there to hold you up. “Taehyung, what the hell?!”

Taehyung smirks in victory, the phone and laptop in his hands, before he turns around and saunters to the door. “Disappointed, baby? All you have to do is ask and I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

Jungkook and Jimin are standing just outside, backs pressed to the opposite wall, and they both jump when the sound of glass shattering against wood follows Taehyung closing the door behind him. Jungkook wants to check on you, but the satisfied look on Taehyung’s face lets him know that you meant to break whatever had hit the door. “Uh, boss?”

Taehyung hands the laptop and phone to Jimin, who was looking at him with raised brows. “Give these to Yoongi, tell him to go through them, delete anything that can be used to track either device, and have him install the tracking app he created in her phone. I want us, and only us, to be able to access the app. If, for whatever reason, Yoongi feels like someone outside of the seven of us should be able to tap into it, I want to know who and why first. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin disappears with the phone and computer, leaving behind a chuckle that has Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and Kook,” Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder with a mischievous grin, “buy Y/N a new perfume bottle. She seems to have broken her last one.”

#kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts mafia smut #kim taehyung mafia smut

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anxious2dsimp · 4 years ago

Text

General Dating Headcanons | Sero, Todoroki & Bakugou

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Sero x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Cursing bc Bakugou 🙄 (as if I wasn’t the one who picked him lmao)

Request: :))) hellooooo :D hmmmm may i get general dating headcanons for sero, todoroki, and [insert your favorite character]? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 @smexy-goose

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Hi again!! Omg yes, I’ll gladly write some hcs for the best bois! I had a hard time picking a fave, but since I have written for Kami and Kiri in the last request I decided to go with blasty boy❤️ (Also, I’m trying a new way to post requests, I hope it works!)

Sero Hanta

I feel like Sero is genuinely so fun to date, just like he said in that one dorm episode, he’s always the wild card.

He’s a goofball, so he adores making you laugh and smile as much as he can. I love him omg😭

Will definitely take advantage of his height (he’s among the taller ones in the class) and give you surprise hugs from behind and rest his head on yours.

He’ll also use his quirk on you for everything from pranks to just randomly pulling you to him to give you a quick peck or a hug :’)

He’s pretty standard with PDA, so he won’t go around making out with you in public but he will do little gestures like those <3

In private I feel like he’s definitely cuddly, he’s just so happy to be with you!

He loves having you over at his room to just chill or be in each other’s presence, even if you’re doing stuff individually.

Speaking of, the bakusquad definitely complains about you having privilege in using the hammock in Hanta’s room.

Denki will whine like; “why does y/n always get to use the hammock? You said it was out of bounds!”

“That’s on pretty privilege, sorry! And you’re just jealous you don’t have a cool s/o like mine,” Sero will say and poke his tongue out from the hammock where you’re swinging togehter :’)

I’m warning you now, if you had a healthy sleep schedule before going out with him, you can kiss it goodbye.

Sero will absolutely be up till like 3 am sending you memes and tiktoks that remind him of you.

And with him blowing up your phone you’ll most likely end up talking into ungodly hours of the night, the *sleep deprivation* only causing funnier conversations.

Those will end up becoming inside jokes that he’ll bring up to make you laugh while the rest of the class is like ???

That also results in some weird ass nicknames sorry not sorry

So he’ll sometimes call you regular stuff like babe and other times... he’ll call you things like “Bert” (FOR NO REASON??) or “Candied Blood Pumping Organ” instead of sweetheart lmao

Overall you two are just THE chaotic couple (and if you’re not generally that way he will bring out that side of you)

Pranking your classmates? Pranking each other? Random ass adventures? Trying weird food together? Dancing in the kitchen at midnight while sharing late night snacks? By going out with him you said yes to all of the above.

From sneaking out of the dorms for late night food runs to occasionally skipping class to go to the arcade or the beach, you usually can’t go a week without doing something fun togehter.

This one time you two were out with the Bakusquad and y’all stopped by a supermarket to get food.

So you had to ask Bakugou to buy you something bc you and Sero had to stay outside and just hand him the money.

He was like “tf?? why? Just buy your shit yourselves!” You had to explain you two were banned from the store because Hanta had accidentally crashed a cart he was driving you around in into a display of cereal boxes.

Ah yes, good times.

Todoroki Shoto

I feel like he’ll definitely need a small push when it comes to relationships bc of his past, but once you’re with him he’ll care deeply about you and will try to make you as happy as you make him :’)

I’m begging you, please give this boy some luv and affection!! For the most part you’d probably initiate PDA because he’s too nervous to do it himself

At the beginning he wouldn’t even be comfy cuddling, solely because he’d be afraid of hurting you somehow :(

But once you’ve reassured him he complies, and from then on out you just have to open your arms and he’ll instantly know it’s *cuddle time*

It’a one of his favorite pastimes bc he just feels so safe and loved <3 he also just loves the feeling of you playing with his hair

Luckily you get to do it year round since you cuddle his hot side in the winter and cold side during the summer

I feel like he’s secretly insecure, so the fact that you trust him and love him for who he is makes him feel like he could melt <3

Because of that you’re the only one he truly opens up to and shows his real feelings to, not to mention the only one who can touch his scar

And though he isn’t great with words, one look at him during one of these personal moments when its just you two, and you can just see it in his eyes.

Especially if you kiss his scar, his eyes might even get teary this sweet boy I 😭

That’s also probably why he shares his precious cold soba with you

Since you’ve been together, Shoto has just been so much happier, so his siblings and mother LOVE you.

They’re constantly inviting you over for dinner when Endevour is working (bc he’s a huge buzzkill to say the least), and his mom adores when you come with Shoto to visit her :)

Todoroki really enjoys seeing you get along with the people he cares the most about...

BUT what he hates is THE EMBARRASING STORIES HIS FAMILY TELLS YOU OMG (you live for them, but I wouldn’t tell him that if I were you)

“Fuyumi remember when Shoto-” “Natsuo, no💙“ your bf will say as he unconsciously squeezes your hand, both of the siblings laughing at Shoto’s glare.

You had to hold in your laughter so hard omg

Though he isn’t that talkative, you guys definitely have that kind of relationship where you two could be silent and still feel completely comfortable (oh I’m so jealous of that but nvm)

He’s definitely observant, so expect the most considerate gifts and the most assertive observations, he’ll always know what you need.

The type of observant that gives you a water bottle before you even notice you’re thristy during training, or switches sides while walking so you loop your arm with his on his warm side when you’re cold.

Also the type to gift you that one thing you really wanted but mentioned once like months ago along with your favorite snacks/drink (you best believe he has them all memorized bc he’s just that attentive)

Over all, just a really soothing relationship were you can be comfortable with each other and feel at home when you’re together.

Bakugou Katsuki

Ok so, I feel like you’d be a competitive couple, turning anything into a competition in an endearingly annoying way.

You’re definitely the type of couple to go to laser tag, an escape room, an arcade, etc, as dates >:) but the competitions don’t end there:

Who can plan the best date? Who can make the other blush first? Who can get the other the better gift? Who’s the better kisser? Who gets the higher score in class? Or wins at sparring?

Especially when it comes to productive stuff like training or academics, although he won’t admit it, he’s just pushing you to be your best because he knows how amazing you are :’)

All the bakusquad knows about your shenanigans and at this point they’ve learnt to stay out of it & go get the Advil just in case bless their souls lmao

I’m sorry but he definitely calls you nicknames that purposely piss you off (with no ill intentions ofc), like “gremlin”, “dumbass” or “booger”

I suggest you also call him stuff like that back, like “angry pom” or “blasty” to get on his nerves >:)

You guys also definitely friendly bicker all the time, knowing that you take it lightly (though strangers won’t, resulting in some hilariously awkward situations)

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he’ll say rolling his eyes as he messes up your hair.

Just watch his smirk dissapears when you reply, “no, u❤️″ It gets on his nerves, I just know it.

So he’ll chase you around as you call each other random stuff. While the other people at the convenience store are just like 👁👄👁

He never means it tho, keep in mind if you’re dating the self proclaimed future no. 1 hero he thinks highly of you :)

So he’d definitely be protective while simultaneously showing you off <3

Will always greet you with a kiss and keep his hand on your back or waist so ppl know you’re with him

RIP anyone who tries to hurt or flirt with you, I say try bc Bakugou will be exploding them even before they get the chance😅

Denki’s definitely almost gotten his brows blown off his face bc of that lol

Speaking of, the bakusquad still can’t get over the fact that THE lord explosion murder has a soft spot for you,

You mean you take care of his injuries, scold him when he burns himself out, touch his hair, and hug him when his moody... and you DON’T get cussed out and blown up? Shooketh

However they don’t see what happens behind closed doors, & how you’ve helped him with all the trauma he has experienced

You’re the only one who he is vulnerable with, you’ve seen him cry and he tells you about his nightmares and fears

You do the same with him, and you promise each other to get through anything together, which you’ve done so far :’)

Bc of that his parents love you, and his mom’s always going on about how she’s so glad you “stand” his son😂

Why can’t he be real ughhh

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chenziee · 3 years ago

Text

Romance Dawn for the East Blue

Inspired by @feriowind‘s blessed tweet about Yamato winding up on Dawn Island :)

Enjoy 4k words of the 4 brothers driving everyone crazy :D

[Read on AO3 or below the cut]

----------

Slowly blinking awake, Yamato struggled to remember why he was lying on the beach of some strange island, the smell of sea salt and trash mixing in the air into something almost worse than the confines of his prison of Onigashima. Almost. It was still freedom after all, and Yamato would gladly take this disgusting smell over his father threatening to place bombs on his wrists.

Looking around groggily, his eyes finally fell on the sad, wooden remains of a small boat, a boat that Yamato had been using to sail this unfamiliar sea during the past weeks. And he finally remembered the terrible events that had led him to this island.

Yes, it was a dark, stormy night, the likes of which Yamato had never seen even in the unpredictable New World, and definitely not since his escape in the peaceful and calm East Blue. He had fought to keep his boat from capsizing, fighting against the strong winds and ocean currents all by himself for hours… but then suddenly, a Neptunian so large it could only have come from the Calm Belt appeared. Yamato had managed to fight it off but unfortunately, his boat suffered too much damage from the power of his Thunder Bagua. He was then forced to swim to the nearest shore with the last bits of strength he had left—

"I saw the Lord of the Coast attack the fishing boat this person was sleeping in. It was really funny, when they woke up, they screamed so loud I think even the people in Fuusha heard. And then they fell in the water while trying to stand up. But the idiot apparently can't swim so I had to go fish them out."

Yamato froze in place at the boyish voice who was retelling his heroic battle so rudely. Wasn't he allowed to at least pretend?

Another boy, this one sounding even younger, started snickering then. "I like this person, Sabo! They’re so funny!"

"Luffy, you're the last one who should be laughing here," a third voice sighed. "Anchor boy." Yamato could almost hear the cheeky smirk on his face as he teased this 'Luffy'.

“Don’t call me that!” the youngest one cried, sounding like he was about to fight the other boy.

“Ace, don’t provoke him,” the first boy chided. “You’ll wake the idiot with your fighting.”

That was it.

“Will you stop calling me an idiot?!” Yamato shouted as he sprung up to a sitting position, an embarrassed blush on his face.

They all paused at the sudden movement, blinking up at him in shock. Yamato glowered at them one by one, taking note of how tiny these kids were—the blond and the freckled one looked no older than 12, while the other could be maybe 8. The blond was the only one dripping in water, just as much as Yamato himself was, and Yamato could only assume this was Sabo, the one who had pulled him out of the water. That would make Freckles ‘Ace’, and the youngest one ‘Luffy’.

Yamato had to wonder, though, how Sabo was able to save him all by himself. Yamato was 16 years old, a lot older than however old these boys were, and he was Kaido’s son—meaning he was already much taller than some adults. Although, he supposed he had seen stranger things and people a lot stronger than a human their size should have been. An image of Oden during his execution came to mind immediately but Yamato quickly chased the memory away.

“Oh look, the idiot’s awake,” Ace said lazily, looking thoroughly unimpressed by Yamato’s glare and simply returning it with one of his own.

Luffy, on the other hand, grinned brightly, hopping over to Yamato to stare up at him with stars in his eyes. “Are those horns? Real ones?”

Blinking, Yamato’s hand automatically reached up to touch one of his horns. “Yeah?” he replied slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Was it that weird to people not from the Grand Line to see someone with features like this?

“That’s so cool! Join my pirate crew!” His grin only widened with his request—or demand.

Yamato tilted his head to the side. “You have a pirate crew?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, not yet,” Luffy said, a small pout appearing on his lips. “But eventually, I will be the Pirate King so of course I will have one!” he announced looking so proud and sure of himself and Yamato felt his lips twitch upward.

“Sure, King, I’ll tag along with you,” he laughed, seeing no harm in indulging the adorable kid. And who knew? Maybe he really would end up sailing with him. After all, in 12 years, the Nine Red Scabbards would come back to Wano and Yamato needed to be back there by then. He needed to help open the country.

And who was to say he couldn’t bring the Pirate King with him?

Sabo clicked his tongue then, walking up to Luffy and ruffling his hair. “Stop that, you don’t even know this person’s name.”

“Oh right,” Yamato said, hitting t he palm of his hand with his fist in sudden realization. “Sorry. I’m Kozuki Oden. You can also call me Yamato. Son of Kaido. Thanks for helping me.”

----------

“Ace! Luffy! What’s the meaning of this?!”

Yamato groaned; always a wonderful way to wake up. “Are you drunk again, you bull-gorilla? Go away it’s too early for this,” he shouted back, not even bothering to open his eyes.

There was a moment of silence until someone stomped over to stand right above Yamato’s head. “What did you just call me, you brat?”

Finally, Yamato blinked up at the person with long ginger hair, a cigarette between their lips, and looking decidedly female. He closed his eyes again, mumbling, “Oh you’re not my father. Whatever then.” As soon as he was done, he pulled his blanket over his head to try and get some more peace and quiet.

It might not have been his father but it still was too early for this.

“Dadan, shut up,” some one whined from somewhere around halfway down Yamato’s body.

“Yeah, what’s the problem?” another person joined in, their voice coming from Yamato’s other side.

Oh right. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy had brought him back to their place last night; this had to be the nasty old hag they mentioned. Definitely seemed like one.

“First Garp drops you two on me, then you bring in more and more kids with you? What do you expect me to do, this isn’t a daycare!” It sounded like the woman was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Finally, Sabo spoke up, sounding about as sleepy as Yamato felt, “Dadan, this is our brother, Yamao. Yamao, Dadan.” With that, he flopped back down, his head coming to rest against Yamato’s thigh.

“I’m not a pillow, you three!” Yamato snapped upon the realization of how the boys were laying with their limbs thrown all over the place, Yamato’s own body included. “And it’s Ya-ma-to,” he added with a sigh, already giving giving up on convincing them to not use Luffy’s nickname.

“Where the hell did you manage to pick up another brother,” Dadan complained and Yamato was starting to feel a little sorry for her. He had to admit that dealing with these three was like fighting a hurricane and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since he met them. At least now he was there, a responsible teenager to keep them in check. She should really be grateful he happened to… choose this island to land on.

“Alright, kid. I don’t care who you are you where you came from—” the woman paused, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down and Yamato— “but I will not feed you. One bowl of rice per day is all I can guarantee you.”

Yamato laughed, “That’s not necessary. Oden could do it, I would be a disgrace if I couldn’t take care of myself and my brothers, too.”

Dadan stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, before she threw he hands up in frustration. As she walked away, Yamato could hear her mumbling to herself about stupid brats who couldn’t be phased by anything and how she was going to ‘let Garp have it’ the next time he ‘bothered to show his sorry ass’ there.

Yamato simply shrugged and went back to sleep.

----------

Life on Dawn Island turned out to be surprisingly easy and, even more surprisingly, fun. It didn’t take Yamato long to get to know the forest, the mountain, and the Grey Terminal beyond it, running around the place with his little brothers like he was born there with them.

“Yamao, where are you going, that’s the opposite direction!” Sabo called after him in exasperation, pointing the right way.

A few days after his arrival, he went to retrieve his kanabo from the waters just off the shore. Ace had looked at him, asking why he was so desperate if it was the same weapon the father he so hated used and Yamato couldn’t admit he had a point but… he simply didn’t feel right without it. It was his weapon as well now, and the bull-gorilla wouldn’t take that away from him.

It took him three hours of diving but the happiness and rightness of his kanabo next to him was well worth the effort.

“What are you two anchors doing?” Ace shouted from where he was in the water and towards the two at the beach, looking incredibly annoyed.

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance before turning back to Ace and replying in unison, “Building a pirate ship from sand.”

Just then, Sabo’s head popped out of the water next to Ace. “I need a break,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath after being underwater for so long.

“This club of yours better be made from gold, Yamao, or so help me,” Ace grumbled before leaving Sabo to rest and diving in instead.

Once he had his kanabo in hand, it became incredibly easy to hunt even the most ferocious beasts around, allowing Yamato enough room to stay back and direct the young brothers, giving them pointers and helping them with their hunting techniques. Usually, he simply watched, letting the boys do most of the hunt, even if it meant the prey got away sometimes. After all, making mistakes and losing was a good way to get stronger. So he let them do their own thing while making sure they were okay, and only jumping in when necessary.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We go around the river, then we split up. Me and Luffy will go up while you and Ace follow the riverbed. It’s risky, but on my signal, you will catch its attention and keep it distracted. Then me and Luffy jump down at its head. Hopefully that will at least knock it out so you and Ace can then come help us finish it. And Yamao—” Sabo paused, giving Yamato a hard, subtly threatening look— “if you run ahead screaming and scare it off again, we’re having you for dinner.”

Yamato could only gulp and nod obediently.

He even managed to impress the local Madonna, the cute pub owner Makino. The first time she had come to visit after Yamato had arrived, she immediately dropped all the food, alcohol, and children’s clothes that she had brought, and ran straight to him. She gave him all of her attention the rest of her stay. And even though Yamato wasn’t interested, he had to admit that being fawned over, and especially the jealous stares all the bandits were giving him, felt great.

“Oh my,” Makino muttered when she noticed Yamato. “Luffy did say Yamao was a little taller than him but…” she trailed off, her expression turning troubled.

“You don’t have any clothes big enough for him, do you?” Dogra asked, munching on one of the cones Makino had brought.

The young woman shook her head, sighing, “I think I’ll have to make them all from scratch. Yamao, can you come here? I need to take some measurements.”

"Yamao, you're blushing more than Ace did!" Luffy pointed out immediately, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.

Yamato made sure his hand was coated in haki when he hit the boy over the head.

Over all, he had to say he much prefered the life of a cool big brother over being a pirate crew’s' ‘young master’. It was a lot more fun, a lot easier to breathe. He never felt more free than he did while laughing and running around the mountain, plotting pranks on their brothers with Ace, or getting grounded— getting thanked by Sabo for running off and beating up the pathetic excuses for pirates who had hurt Luffy and threatened the boys' treasure stash.

Even Dadan's frustrated screaming felt more loving than anything the bull-gorilla of a biological parent had ever shown him. And no, it definitely wasn’t much more embarrassing.

----------

"I don't want to be a marine!" Luffy screamed one morning just as the others were getting ready to head out to work their brand new tree house base.

Both Sabo and Ace froze, turning to stare at each other for a moment with wide eyes.

"Run?" Ace asked in a whisper.

"Run," Sabo nodded seriously before they both turned to look at Yamato.

The teen simply sat there, turning his confused gaze between Ace, Sabo, and the direction from which Luffy's voice came a few seconds earlier. "What's going on?"

Ace and Sabo exchanged a glance once more, seemingly coming to a mutual understanding before Ace answered, "Go see for yourself. Luffy could probably use the help."

Immediately, Yamato was on his feet, heading outside to save his adorable baby brother from whatever monster he was facing. He was slightly suspicious of the high five Ace and Sabo had exchanged, not as sneakily as they probably thought, but as long as Luffy was in trouble, it didn't matter much to him.

As soon as he made it outside the little house, his eyes fell on the two figures fighting just a little bit away from the house. Obviously, one of them was Luffy, who was visibly fuming; growling and snapping his teeth like he was getting ready to literally bite the legs off of his target.

The target in question was a tall, although obviously much shorter than Yamato, and muscular old man clad in a bright red and white aloha shirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Luffy down. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by Luffy’s pistol punches—which admittedly still left much to be desired despite Yamato’s efforts to help him out; it was only a question of time before he managed to find the right bang feeling. The man he was fighting looked vaguely familiar but Yamato couldn’t place that face no matter how much he wrecked his brain.

But it didn’t matter.

“Luffy, are you okay?!” Yamato called in alarm, rushing forward while preparing to swing his kanabo at the stranger.

The both of them turned to look at him then, identical angry expressions on their faces and suddenly, Yamato realized who the man reminded him of. It was more than obvious where Luffy got his personality and expressions. Maybe he should… not attack this person on sight?

Making the decision for him, Luffy huffed upon seeing him approach, raising his hand and making Yamato stop. “Stay back, I’m fine! I can kick gramps’ ass myself!”

“Who’s ass are you gonna kick?” the man snapped, his light punch making Luffy clutch at his head. “You can’t win against the fist of love, Luffy!”

Yamato blinked. That was obviously haki but… fist of love?

Ignoring Luffy’s complaints, the man gave Yamato an obvious once over. “And who are you? Wait—” he paused, looking like he just remembered something— “you’re Yamao, aren’t you?”

“My name is Ya-ma-to, and I’m Luffy’s big brother,” Yamato replied, not entirely sure why he even bothered to correct anyone on his name at this point. No one ever listened.

“Part of the family already, hm? You have an impressive swing; you’ll make a fine marine.” The grandfather nodded, grinning at Yamato in approval.

Yamato did a double take. “I’m not going to be a marine!” he responded immediately, the horror he felt at the though clear in his voice.

“Exactly! We’re gonna be pirates!” Luffy joined in, fully recovered and launching a new rubbery pistol punch, which went completely ignored.

Gramps puffed up, raising his fist threateningly in front of himself. “Nonsense! All four of you will be the strongest marines the navy’s ever had if I have any say in it!”

“No way!” Luffy and Yamato cried in unison, the both of them jumping at the man in a joint attack.

A second later the both of them were rolling on the ground together, clutching at their heads and trying to recover from yet another fist of love. Seriously, Yamato only just met this guy, why was he getting a fist of love? Or better yet, why did it sound like he was already considered a grandson? He didn’t even know his new grandfather’s name.

He guessed it was simply one more proof of his relation to Luffy. It was exactly the same to when Luffy had decided by himself that Yamato was the big brother now, not even half an hour after meeting him, and just like back then, Yamato was powerless in defying that decision.

Not like he wanted to. He would be lying if he said being considered family so easily, so warmly, so unconditionally didn’t make him happy. But still…

“I’m already a pirate,” he growled. Not to mention marines did nothing but fight Oden and the Pirate King’s crew. Like hell was he becoming one of them.

Gramps took a deep breath, looking like he was about to explode, but Yamato interrupted him. “The navy wouldn’t want someone with my blood anyway. They’d execute me on the spot,” he said flatly, looking the man straight in the eyes, trying to convey how disgusted by the institution, the world government, the current world he was. Like hell was he participating in that. He’d much rather wait patiently for the one who was going to change it all and support them.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, neither of them faltering as they stared each other down silently. Until finally, gramps grinned, a smile so similar to Luffy’s that Yamato startled.

“If blood’s the problem, all the more reason you should join,” he announced, the smile never leaving his face even as his eyes turned almost sad.

Yamato tilted his head to the side as he watched the man slowly look at Luffy before his eyes slid in the direction of the bandits’ house. When Yamato turned to look, he could see Ace turning around and walking away, Sabo quickly following with a worried expression on his face.

Well.

At least Yamato wasn’t the only one who obviously hated his biological family around here.

Deciding to leave Ace in Sabo’s hands, Yamato turned back to the problem at hand but before he could snap at the man, Luffy did so for him, “No. He’s joining my crew!”

“Over my dead body!” gramps roared in response, looking like he was going to go off on a rant.

Yamato, however, wasn’t about to sit around and listen to that. “No, over my dead body. Do you even hear how fucked up it is that you need to join the navy to be safe from getting hunted? Neither of us going there,” he growled, baring his teeth for good measure.

The old man paused, blinking at Yamato once, then twice, before he burst out in laughter, one so loud, so honest, and so contagious that, despite having no idea what was so funny, it made even Yamato want to laugh. All his anger was forgotten as his lips stretched in a grin, shaking his head at the sudden realization of how weird this entire situation was. He barely knew what was even happening but… it wasn’t like Yamato ever really paused to think about things. If it felt right, he’d go with it. If it didn’t, fuck it.

And this, incredibly, felt right.

It was only a long while later that gramps finally caught his breath enough to speak, “I like you, kid. Are you sure you’re Kaido’s son?”

As if hit by the bull-gorilla’s Thunder Bagua, Yamato stopped laughing, only staring with an open mouth as dread ran through him. “How?” he could only say after a dreadfully long moment of heavy silence. Or maybe it was only a second. But it was too much, and made Yamato feel too on edge. Ready to fight. He didn’t want to even hear the bull-gorilla’s name; definitely didn’t want to hear it in relation to himself.

Gramps looked at him as if asking if he was kidding then, but with his only answer being a glare, he started laughing anew. “Kid, if you don’t want people to know, or the asshole finding you, maybe stop introducing yourself with ‘son of Kaido’ to anyone you meet. You have poor Makino quite worried.”

Oh.

Whoops?

“Yamao, you’re stupid,” Luffy laughed.

The teen huffed, shoving hard at Luffy’s shoulder. “You’re stupid,” he hissed back, making Luffy stick his tongue out at him.

Yamato saw it only fair he do the same in return.

Just then, a dark shadow loomed over the both of them and they slowly looked up, only to see gramps looking down at them with an evil grin on his face, slowly cracking his knuckles. “Whatever you say, I will train you stupid brats into proper marines, yet.”

Yamato finally understood why Ace and Sabo’s immediate reaction was to run, then send Yamato as what he could now only assume being a sacrifice. There was no way even Yamato was going to be a fair match for this man. “Oh fuck,” Yamato cursed, scrambling to his feet to follow Luffy, who who was already hafway down the clearing away after taking the first popped knuckle as his signal to bolt.

“Watch your fucking language in front of your baby brothers!” gramps shouted after him just before something that might have been a pine cone flew past him at an impossible speed.

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance, identical grins spreading in their lips before they both took a deep breath. “ACE! SABO! HELP!!”

If they were to die today, they’d make sure to take the other two down with them.

----------

Hours later, Yamato lay awake in his bed on the floor of the mountain bandits’ cabin long after his brothers started snoring softly. He was exhausted from the day spent laughing and running away from gramps—or Garp, as he had finally learned earlier that evening once Dadan finally stopped hiding from the man—but as opposed to the others, he didn’t want to sleep.

Not when gramps and Dadan were busy talking on the other side of this thin wall. What had started as the two of them sharing their frustrations and complaints about their kids quickly turned into fondness as they instead told each other stories about the brothers and their antics. Yamoto wasn’t surprised the bandit knew exactly where their secret base was, just as he wasn’t surprised by Garp only pulling out the most embarrassing stories he probably could.

It was a good thing the other three had managed to pass out the second their heads hit their pillows or they’d be trying to fight the old man all over again over it.

Yamato, on the other hand, refused to miss out on a second of this. The adults might not have allowed him to drink with them, claiming Yamato was too young for that—to which he not-so-politely disagreed, but then Garp’s fist disagreed with him—but they couldn’t stop him from listening. Those were his brothers they were talking about and he wanted to hear all about the past ten years of their lives that he had missed.

And if he maybe got a little bit happy every time they brought Yamato up, well… no one had to know that.

“Yamao, I swear if you don’t stop laughing at their shitty stories, I will strangle you with your own hair.”

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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beauty isn’t skin deep (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- headcanon

what’s up i’m back with another wildly specific headcanon that definitely only applies to like 13% of my followers BUT this one is for all my babies out there who have eczema xx.

mine can get pretty rough, like it is right now, so i needed some comfort

Warnings: anxious thoughts, sad thoughts, mentions of blood, mentions of picking at your skin

HOTCH MASTERLIST || CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST

aaron knew something was wrong when you canceled dinner plans out of nowhere

usually he’s the one canceling on you, but tonight you were the bearer of bad news

you’ve only been dating aaron for a few months, and it’s going well

but you hadn’t had a bad flare up yet

it started this morning

you woke up sweating because you were under too many blankets

and to make matters worse, you found that the patches of eczema on your elbows and calves had gotten worse

but that was fine, that was fixable, you’d just wear long sleeves and jeans to dinner tonight instead of the dress you had picked out

the idea seemed doable enough, until eczema popped up in the middle of your back and your forehead

you almost never get eczema anywhere on your face, so you nearly burst into tears when you felt the tell-tale itching when you were trying to cook lunch

walking around in a bra and shorts is fine, but it isn’t exactly dinner attire

or anywhere-outside-the-apartment attire

so, after lathering your body in the prescription cream your dermatologist gave you, you sent a text to aaron

Hey, I hate to do this, but can I get a raincheck on tonight?

aaron has canceled a few times on you before (for good reason) so you don’t expect him to be mad

but you do anticipate questions, and he doesn’t disappoint

Hey, that’s okay. Is everything alright?

you don’t know how to explain what’s going on, or that you just don’t want to be seen right now, so you settle for being vague

All good! Just had something come up :)

he doesn’t reply, but that’s also not uncommon for him

sometimes he gets caught up in work and replies hours later, or replies with a phone call when he’s driving home

so you think nothing of it

until there’s a knock on your door

you grab a cardigan you had laying over the back of the couch and shrug it on, grimacing as the fabric scratches against the eczema on your elbows

“one second!” you call out, shaking out your arms and wincing

when you peak through the peephole in your door, you gasp

“aaron?” you whisper, pulling the door open. “what are you doing here?”

“hey,” he smiles, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. “i could tell something was wrong, so i wanted to drop these off.”

“you...” you pause, shifting on your feet, feeling an itch beginning on your calf. “thank you, really. you’re so sweet.”

you take the flowers from him and smile, their familiar scent flooding your senses

but aaron notices your small grimace when you stretch out your arm, and he’ll kick himself all night if he doesn’t ask one more time

“are you sure everything’s okay?” he asks

“yeah,” you answer too quick, and you feel awful about the whole situation and because your skin is on fire, so you say, “do you wanna come in for a second? i should put these in a vase.”

he gladly accepts and you lead the way, speeding off to your kitchen while he closes the door

“how was work?” you ask

he can tell you’re trying to fill every second of silence, so he knows something is really wrong

“it was good, we might have to leave this weekend for another case.” he always gives you a heads up when he can, and you appreciate it

you frown like you always do as you cut off the stems and place the flowers in a vase, smelling each one as you go to keep yourself as occupied as possible

you try to contain your grimaces of pain and the shuffling of your feet as you fight against the urge to scratch and claw at your skin

scratching it never helps, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good

even if it does make you bleed

aaron sighs sadly as he watches you do this with your back turned to him

“honey...” he murmurs. “what’s wrong? what are you not telling me?”

all it takes are those kind words, his gentle voice, and you cave

aaron rushes next to you when he hears you begin to sniffle

tears are slipping down your cheeks when he reaches your side

you’re rubbing your forehead with the pads of your fingers, trying your hardest not to claw with your nails like you so desperately want to

aaron sees the raised and irritated skin and instantly goes into crisis mode

“what happened? are you having an allergic reaction to something?”

you shake your head, pulling your hand away for a moment, sniffling more when your cardigan scratches your elbows

“i have eczema,” you finally get the words out and take a deep breath, trying to shrug off the cardigan

aaron helps you when he sees what you’re trying to do, and his heart breaks when he sees what you were covering up

“my skin hates me,” you joke, wiping your nose on your hand. “it’s never this bad, but i just can’t touch anything — it all hurts.”

aaron wishes he could touch it and make it go away because it looks painful, and your tears confirm it

he doesn’t even know what eczema really is, but it doesn’t look pleasant

“can i do anything to help?”

you shake your head. “i’ve tried everything all day and nothing helps.”

you take another deep breath, calming yourself down, feeling ridiculous for crying over something like this in front of him

“i didn’t want to cancel on you, but i didn’t want you seeing me like this,” you pause to chuckle, “guess those both backfired.”

“why wouldn’t you want me to see you?” he asks softly

you don’t want to answer him, to say the truth out loud because you know it sounds ridiculous

but you figure you’ve blown past the line of absurdity in the past five minutes, so you say it

“i feel so ugly,” you murmur, groaning in frustration when you see a small patch has popped up on the back of your left hand, between your pinky and ring finger.

“for fuck’s sake,” you hiss, not caring that he’s standing there, or that you shouldn’t claw at it, so you do anyway

“hey, hey, hey,” aaron grabs your hand quickly after watching one second of you digging your nails into the skin. “you’ll make it worse.”

“it’s already worse,” you whine, trying to tug both your hands out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let go

“what have you not tried today?” he asks, holding tighter. “what can i do?”

“sometimes i take a bath,” you reply. “but i don’t know if i have the right stuff for it.”

“well let’s go look.”

he leads you into your bathroom, and he keeps both of your hands clasped in one of his while he looks around with the other

eventually, he finds what you were describing

it’s a bubble bath, essentially, but it’s an anti-inflammatory one you got years ago

it’s been discontinued since, so you’ve been rationing what you have left of it

and when you see how low the bottle is, you immediately start protesting

but aaron is hearing none of it

he runs the bath with one hand, pours the bubble bath in with one hand, and listens to your protests all at the same time

“you need it,” he says. “i’ll look online for some more. i don’t care how much it costs, if it helps you, then i’m getting it for you.”

he refuses to let you argue as he helps you out of your shorts and sports bra

the two of you have had sex before, but you’ve never let him see you naked like...this

it feels different, but not uncomfortable

when you sink into the bath, the temperature is just right

not too hot (because that’ll dry out your skin more) and not too cold (because you’re not trying to take an ice bath after a workout)

he leaves after you get comfortable, and you figure he’s letting you have some time alone

but then he returns with a candle, a lighter, and one of the books from your bed

“what are you doing?” you ask, but you’re smiling like a fool as he lights the candle and sets it on the edge of the bathtub

“helping you have the perfect bath,” he says seriously, but he’s smiling, too. “i know you like to read, but i want you to stay under the water.”

you sink down further with his words, hiding your smile as it grows into a stupid grin

after half an hour of soaking in the bath and listening to him read to you, your skin is feeling better

aaron helps you out and helps you dry off

and, even though you didn’t want him to, he helps you put the prescription cream on the hard-to-reach spots (and everywhere else, because when you tried to help, he swatted your hands away)

“you’re not ugly,” he says, and something about the way he says it, while he’s rubbing prescription cream into your skin has you smiling like an idiot al over again

“thank you.”

“beauty isn’t skin deep,” he continues, rubbing the middle of your back. “but even if it was, you’d still be gorgeous to me.”

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner headcanon #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you #criminal minds hc #criminal minds headcanon #aaron hotchner fluff #fluff #criminal minds fluff #hotch fluff

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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White Christmas ~ BC [M] [Day Twenty Four: Advent Calendar]

WORD COUNT: 3K

GENRE: Smut, Christmas smut,

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Fem!Reader

WARNING: Jealously smut, flirting, bondage, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, light-spanking

A/N: This is a part of the Smutmus collab put together by the amazing @clandestine-lixie

DESCRIPTION: After baking festive cookies with Felix you try to surprise your boyfriend with them at work but he pushes you away causing you to flirt with a younger member just to get his attention but when that doesn’t work you head home only for Chan to follow behind you and give you a different kind of white Christmas. (I suck at descriptions I’m sorry!!)

Christmas songs were blasting through the small speaker in the kitchen, the whole dorm was decked out in Christmas decorations ready for Christmas tomorrow. Most of the boys had gone home for the holidays but Chan, Felix and Jeongin were spending it at the dorms since they couldn't get home. All flights had been cancelled thanks to the snow and Jeongin didn't want to risk driving home in the snow so he decided to stay with his Hyung's. Not realising it meant dealing with you and Felix baking for a week straight, singing nothing but Christmas songs and dressing up. This morning he'd decided to go with Chan to the studio just to get some peace and quiet,

"Christmas eve!" Felix bounced up and down on the spot as he brought the ingredients over for his cookies over to you. This week you'd done nothing but bake and prep everything ready for Christmas day, choosing to take some of the festive baked goods to the JYP building to spread some Christmas cheer.

"I can't tell if you're excited," You said sarcastically as you wrapped the black apron around yourself, you were wearing a red velvet Mrs Claus dress which was what you were supposed to wear tomorrow but you'd been dying to wear it all week.

"Shut up, you're already in your dress." Felix teased back as he went to get some gloves from the bottom drawer in the kitchen, you got the bowls from the cupboards and walked back to the table,

"I can't help it, I feel cute. Plus I'm taking the cookies down to Chan before I go to my apartment so I thought I should look the part." You laughed softly turning to see Felix beside you as he hummed,

"Sure, that's why you're wearing it to see Chan." He wasn't an idiot. You and Chan had been together for a year in March so it wasn't like you weren't sexually active.

"Keep your mind out of the gutter," You grumbled turning to him and waiting for further instructions,

"Oh! Wait!" You yelled out jumping up and going over to your bag, you'd gotten some more festive cookie cutters from the supermarket that morning and thought they would be cute to use.

"Cute!" Felix yelled as you brought them over to him. They were almost as cute as the gingerbread men cutters you'd brought the day before.

"Snowflakes, angels, and a-" You began tilting the cutter around trying to figure out what the cutter was, it must have gotten squished in your bag because you didn't recognise it at all.

"Rudolph?" Felix tried to guess but then you turned it around again and it looked nothing like a reindeer,

"I've got it!" You nodded your head dropping it onto the table,

"What?" Felix questioned tilting his head as he tried to catch up to whatever it was,

"It's the festive blob that we won't use," You clapped your hands together wanting to get on with the baking instead of waiting around some more.

"Alexa! Volume 7," Felix cried out as he heard his favourite Christmas song coming over the speaker, you'd think after hearing it sixteen times in a row he would get bored of it but you always found a way to make singing the song fun again.

"Innie? I brought cookies," You waved the box in your hands at the studio door as Jeongin's head slowly began to rise from the sofa, he was half asleep waiting on Chan to take him to lunch. You could practically hear his stomach growling from outside the door, he raced over to you but you held the box just out of his reach.

"Go and get two glasses of milk for you and Chan." You mumbled watching him sprint down the hallway towards the canteen, you giggled shutting the door as you made your way into the studio. Chan was in his usual spot in front of his laptop, working just as hard as he usually did. Gently you placed the box of cookies down beside him and stretched your hands out to rub his shoulders but he didn't move, it was like he was so lost in his work he'd barely even noticed you were there.

"Channie, you need a break." You whispered lowly in his ear hoping he would turn around to see you. Along with the Mrs Claus dress you were wearing you'd matched it with some red and white thigh high socks and a pair of black boots but he wasn't paying attention.

"Channie..." You tapped him softly but again his attention was on the screen as he began typing something, you'd tried to watch him work before but the whole process confused you too much so you went over to the sofa. If he looked up he would see you in the corner of his eye, spreading your legs slowly only to cross the other one over for him but it was no use, nothing was going to tear his eyes away from the screen.

"I got the milk Noona," A smiling Jeongin came back into the room carrying two pint-sized glasses of milk, it was now that he noticed what you were wearing. Before he'd been so distracted at the thought of the cookies but now his ears were turning red as he stared at you.

"You look amazing, is this what you're wearing tomorrow?" You saw you the chance to annoy Chan so you took it, he hated when you would openly flirt or tease him with the boys so you nodded at Jeongin.

"You like it? I thought the thigh highs would be soo much but I think it pulls it together," You whispered sweetly, patting the seat beside you as you got up to get the cookies.

"I think Chan's too busy to give us attention Innie, you'll have to deal with little me for now." Chan's grip on his mouse tightened as he heard you talking to Jeongin like this but he wasn't going to show you he was paying attention yet. He knew what you were doing, you'd done nothing but tease him all week with the idea of him fucking you in that dress on Christmas day and now you were parading around in it. Flaunting it for everyone to see, along with the thigh-high socks he'd gotten you with the intent of ripping them off as soon as he got you alone at the dorms or back to your own apartment.

"I-I don't mind Noona," Chan licked his lips as he continued to try and force himself into paying attention to the track he was working on but all he could focus on was your blatant flirting with Jeongin the whole time you were there until you finally left to go home to your own place to pack up some clothes.

When the front door to your apartment opened you weren't surprised, Jeongin had text you to say that Chan left not long after you and you knew he'd be coming to see you right away.

"Hi baby, do you want me to bring you-" You stopped talking when you turned around to see Chan standing behind you holding a stocking in his hand.

"What's that?" You questioned trying to peek inside but a giant smirk spread across his face as he held it out of your reach.

"An early Christmas present for my slutty little Mrs Claus," As soon as the words left his mouth you knew you were in trouble so you smile innocently at him while moving from side to side,

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," His hand gripped onto your hair roughly as he brought you into a heated kiss, his hands running up and down your dress as you moan against his lips.

"C-Chan," You whined out as his hands gripped onto the fake belt around the mid-section of your red dress, he began searching for the zip before giving up.

"Out of the dress, I don't want to ruin it before tomorrow." You nodded at him, his tone of voice was demanding and you were already in enough trouble as it was so you did as you were told. Stepping out of the dress and throwing it into the corner of the room,

"Fuck, look at you." He groaned running his hands over your body, his thumbs circling your hard nipples through the black lace bra you were wearing, he bit down on his lip as he ran his hand down to the matching lace thong.

"You couldn't wait a day longer?" He tutted at you pushing you face down onto the mattress as he delivered a small slap across your ass cheek making you giggle,

"N-No, I need you." You whimpered getting onto all fours on the bed and wiggling your ass for him but he wasn't impressed, another smack as delivered across your ass and he growled at you.

"Flirting with I.N like that, making him think he stood a chance when we both know the only cock you like to be stuffed full of is mine. Isn't that right, Mrs Claus?" You nodded not removing your eyes from his as he stood in front of the bed, his hard-on evident through his trousers.

"Suck," You gladly moved over to him fumbling to unbutton the jeans he was wearing as he stroked your hair waiting for you to get to him, you smirked when you saw him wearing a pair of Santa Claus underpants.

"Festive," You said sarcastically as you took his tip into your mouth slowly licking small kitten stripes along his slit as he breathed out in relief,

"No teasing," He warned you as you began to lick from base to tip, spitting onto him so you could pump him with ease.

"Fuck," He grunted as you took him into your mouth easing yourself down so he would hit the back of your throat. Taking hold of his thighs you began to push down as much as you could into your mouth forcing yourself to stay down on him knowing it made him feel good. He grunted softly as his fingers gripped onto your hair softly thrusting into your mouth as precum dripped from his slit,

"Fuck," He moaned out, he'd originally come to your apartment with the intent of punishing you but now you were sucking his dick he never wanted it to stop. You continued to swallow around him using your hands to play with his balls as you continued bobbing your head. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes as he held you down for longer than normal but as soon as he saw the tears he let you come up for air, you kept pumping him while he removed the string of saliva from your lip.

Taking him back into your mouth you began to bob your head up and down on his shaft quickly, taking hi into your throat occasionally until you felt him twitch in your mouth.

"N-No I'm close, b-baby stop," He grunted not wanting you to stop but if you kept going he'd be sensitive all night but that was what you wanted. You held onto his thighs keeping your steady pace until he finally began to breathe heavily.

"Fuck, Y/n!" His voice was deep as he moaned out in pleasure, his hips thrusting into you as you sucked harder swirling your tongue around the head. Playing with his balls you rolled them around your fingers gently until he came into your mouth, the hot string of cum hitting the back of your throat,

"Ugh shit," He shouted as his hips bucked a little more into you, you pulled off him holding eye contact with him as you swallowed his load smirking as he mumbled curse words in both English and Korean.

"You're in trouble," You batted your eyelashes innocently at him and he reached for the stocking.

"Lay down. Arms up to each post of the bed." You scrambled nervously as he ordered you to do so.

Your wrists were bound to either post of the bed and your legs were left undied. Thigh highs and underwear still intact as he looked at you running his hands down your exposed stomach. Your wrists were tied by some red bondage rope and now he was pulling something from the stocking,

"What's that?" You questioned as he pulled out a box,

"Unheated Christmas lights, I saw a photo on Twitter the other day that really inspired me." You knew exactly what photo he was talking about, it was something you'd shown him. A girl tied down to the bed by fairy lights,

"What's up angel? I thought you wanted this to be festive," You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded as he began wrapping the lights around each of your wrists before turning them on.

"So pretty, all lit up for me like this." He groaned kissing your lips softly before trailing his kisses down your body, your legs spread for him as he pulled your panties down throwing them somewhere in the room,

"Chan, please," You whimpered as he blew air onto your aching core.

"Please what?" He teased looking at your pussy that was displayed for him to see, you went to pull your thighs together but he pressed them down against the bed.

"You want me to touch this pretty little pussy?" He whispered in a mocking tone as he ran his finger over the inside of your thigh,

"You're so swollen baby, and dripping onto the sheets." You moaned out as he placed his index finger on you and began rubbing it up and down your folds,

"Ah please Channie," You moaned out bucking your hips up against his finger but he pulled away from you. He slowly laid down in front of your core blowing onto you as you whimpered,

"You're dripping wet baby girl," You looked at him pleadingly waiting for him to do something, anything to you.

"N-Need you," You whispered looking into his eyes as he smirked at you. He delved into you swirling his soft tongue around the outside of your pussy as your back arched away from the bed,

"Chan!" You cried out tugging at the ropes around your wrists but getting nowhere with them. He knew how much you loved to touch him so this was your punishment for the night,

"F-Fuck! Feels so-so good!" You yelped out as he hummed around your cunt sending vibrations through your core. You moaned out as he began to lap up all your juices, you whimpering knowing you were going to be making a mess all over your sheets.

"Chan," Your head rolled back against the bed as he began to pump two fingers in and out of you pumping them knuckles deep as you moaned out his name.

"S-Shit! Just like that!" You cried out as he began sucking on your swollen clit keeping his fingers at a steady pace.

"Fu-Fuck!" You screamed out as your orgasm washed over you like a wave, you didn't even feel it coming. Your legs began to shake as Chan pushed his fingers deeper into you while humming on your clit to ride you through your orgasm.

"Ready baby girl?" You nodded weakly looking up at him as he smirked down at you, lining himself up at your entrance as he teased you with the head of his cock.

"N-Need you," You whispered still trying to pull at the restraints but you weren't going to get far with them, he reached down to kiss you as he pushed into you making you moan into the kiss.

"Fuck," He sighed as he finally felt you around him for the first time all week, you clenched as he began to move and he chuckled,

"So tight angel, fuck-" He grunted as he began to slam in and out of you making you cry out as he slammed into you.

"S-Shit," You whimpered looking up into his eyes as he got lost in the feeling of finally having your warm cunt around him, he'd missed it so much.

"You feel so good around me baby girl, so warm," You cried out at the feeling of another orgasm building inside of you already, he chuckled as you clenched around him again and again.

"Does my slutty little Mrs Claus, want to cum again?" You nodded at him as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, you took it into your mouth and sucked on it as he continued his well-timed thrusts.

"Fuck! Please! I wanna cum all over your cock," You cried out as he took his thumb from your mouth and began to draw circles on your clit,

"I-I wanna cum please," You begged him looking into his eyes as he nodded his head, normally he'd be the one to edge you and edge you over and over again for what you did today but this was his second time cumming tonight so he knew he wouldn't be able to hold off from it,

"Fuck- Y-You can cum baby," He groaned holding onto your hips as he slapped into you, lifting your right leg up and wrapping it around his waist as he continued his thrusts hitting deeper than before.

"F-Fill me up C-Chan please," You begged him as you felt your own orgasm approaching, he grunted hearing you beg for his cum.

A few more thrusts and you came undone around him, moaning out his name as you clenched onto him, he fucked you through your high as he spilt into you moaning out your name as you whimpered tugging at the restraints desperate to finally be able to touch him.

"One-second baby," He whispered kissing you as he pulled out and went to free you from the ropes and lights,

"Well," He chuckled laying down next to you as you curled up into him, you were so tired but you had to shower and get back to the dorms tonight.

"You wanted a white Christmas," He joked making you groan in disgust as you sat up from the bed and went to shower alone while he cleaned up the bedroom.

"Come on! Hey- Hey it was funny!" You shut the door making sure you locked it loud enough so that he could hear it as you started the water shaking your head at your boyfriend.

Tagline: @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @peachyhan @missmxqn @oosnapitskat @changbinswifu

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

If Love is Pain, Let’s Hurt Tonight

“Here's to the painful, miserable, pointless, painful experience that is love,” Marinette held up her shot glass waiting for Roy to join.

Roy didn’t keep her waiting long. He raised his glass to match hers, letting out a grunt of agreement before slamming back the drink. He set the glass back down and studied her for a moment. She didn’t seem sad anymore, which was good. He didn’t want to have to console a sad Marinette, and honestly that guy wasn’t worth her tears. Instead, she seemed resigned after her break up, more lonely than missing him.

Roy knew what had happened as soon as she showed up at his door with a bottle of liquor and a broken smile. He let her in so she had a supportive place to get over it, better here with him than alone at a bar somewhere, but he wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t glad they finally broke up. That asshole wasn’t good enough for her. What the hell was a stock broker anyway? Made up, bullshit job. He never realized the gift he had in her.

Roy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You said painful twice.”

“I didn’t say it enough,” she looked at him pointedly and poured another shot for them both. “Here's to crappy dates and worse relationships.” She raised her glass again. He nodded and matched her, raising his shot before drinking.

He filled their glasses again and raised his glass this time. “Here’s to loveless loved ones that make you feel unworthy and unlovable.”

“Heyyyyyy,” she brightened at his participation and raised her glass in agreement and drank. She filled their glasses again before raising hers. “Here’s to looking for love in all the wrong places and not finding it where you want it.”

Roy eyed her wryly and raised his glass to drink. He knew all about not finding love where you wanted to find it. He looked away from her to fill the glasses again, trying to remember if he had restocked his liquor supply recently because they were going through this bottle awfully quickly. “Here’s to falling in love with villains,” he offered raising his glass. He may have gotten Lian out of it, but that was the only good thing about that relationship.

He raised the drink to his lips but stopped, noticing that Marinette didn’t do the same. He raised an eyebrow at her lack of participation. She had an adorable pout as she contemplated her drink. “I can’t drink. I never dated a villain.”

“Villains and assholes,” he corrected, leaning toward her and holding his drink toward her conspiratorially.

Marinette immediately brightened and raised her glass, clinking it against his. “That I’ve done.” She downed the shot quickly and winced at the burn down her throat. “Almost exclusively lately.”

Roy poured another shot for her and turned on the television to hopefully distract her from getting too bad of a hangover tomorrow. The move had questionable success. The drinking slowed, but didn’t stop. Instead the distraction seemed to give her more time to think. Her previously jovial mood had become much more contemplative and quiet. Finally, after a few more slow shots she over up at him, an introspective frown pulling the corners of her lips down. “Is it me?”

Roy whipped his head back to her as though he hadn’t been studying her in his peripheral vision the entire time anyway. “What?”

“Is it me,” she repeated, staring at the coffee table. “Am I the problem? Is that why I can’t find a good relationship?” She gasped as a sudden realization hit her and turned to him. “Am I a bad kisser?”

She looked at him desperately causing him to freeze. He would give just about anything to be able to answer that question, but their relationship had never been like that, no matter how much he would like it to be. He turned away and focused on his drink instead. “I wouldn’t know,” he muttered.

“Kiss me!” She sat up straight on the couch and turned so her entire body faced him, an excited look on her face.

“What?”

“Kiss me. Tell me honestly if I’m a bad kisser.” Roy stared at her, mouth hanging open for a few seconds. Marinette’s face slowly morphed from excited to horrified to sad. “Never mind. You don’t want to do that. That was a stupid id…”

Roy launched at her before she could finish the sentence, crashing his lips into hers. If this was the only chance he was going to have to kiss her, he was going to make it worth it. He worked his hand behind her head, pulling her close. His other hand cupped her face as his lips slid against hers. She whimpered into his lips and ran her tongue along his lower lip. He gladly granted her access and moved his head to deepen the kiss. She melted into him and wound her hands around his shoulders to pull him closer then moved them to cradle his face.

They finally pulled apart after a few minutes, gasping for breath. When her breath had evened out she looked up at him questioningly. “Well?” she quietly breathed out.

He stared at her still too dazed to form words. He blinked a few times still trying to process her words. “Huh?”

She backed away from him as far as the couch would allow and looked down sadly. “Was it that bad?”

He blinked a few more times. The words still weren’t registering. That was one of, if not the best kiss he’d ever had and his heart still hadn’t returned to its regular rhythm. He looked away as he remembered. That’s right. This didn’t mean anything to her. It wasn’t about him. She didn’t love him. This was about helping her figure out how to keep someone she did love. He shook his head to try to focus on her question. “It was…” he turned to his drink and filled it again. “It’s not your kissing,” he reassured her bitterly.

Marinette sat back proudly and filled her glass for a celebratory drink. “Thanks. You’re really good too. I mean you didn’t say I was really good, but you are.”

He flushed red and kept his focus on the drink and the television. This wasn’t about him. This was about her, helping her get over her latest loser and ready to find the next one.

Marinette watched the television with him for another little while, her proud smile slowly morphing into a contemplative frown. “So it’s just me then. My personality that drives them away.”

Roy sighed and cursed his luck to be the one she came to tonight. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one she came to so she could recover and get back out into the field and date yet another asshole who didn’t appreciate her? “Maybe it’s just like you said. You’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Where should I look instead?” she asked with such earnestness in her eyes it hurt him not to answer her.

“How about right fucking next to you,” he grumbled under his breath, not trying to be heard.

She looked on either side of her and frowned, her brow creasing in melancholy. “It’s empty.” She looked up at him with glassy eyes. “You think I should be alone?”

“What?” he exclaimed. That was most definitely not what he had meant. How is that even what she got out of that? “No! No, I… I meant… never mind.” He gave an exasperated sigh and took another drink.

She watched him for a few moments like she was contemplating him or his words. She suddenly gasped again and shot forward, her eyes huge. “What if I’m bad at sex?” Roy stopped breathing and kept his eyes decidedly focused on the television. He clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from repeating the refrain that kept running through his head. Please ask my opinion. Please ask my opinion. Please ask my opinion.

Just as quickly as she shot forward, she slumped back against the cushions. “No, most of my relationships never got that far. That couldn’t be it.”

Roy huffed out an annoyed breath. “Of fucking course we don’t need to test that one. Fucking annoying,” he muttered under his breath, taking another drink and quickly filling his glass for another.

“What?” she cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“I said you’re annoying,” Roy shot back without thinking, downing the other shot.

Marinette looked away and chuckled bitterly. “Well, that answers the personality question, I guess.” She took another shot and leaned back against the couch to focus on the television. “Don’t annoying people deserve love too? I just want to fall in love and have them love me back. Is that too much to ask?”

Roy winced at her tone. He hadn’t meant to say she was annoying. Not really. He just needed something to say as cover for what he actually did say. It was something he would say normally and she’d laugh, tell him to fuck off. But now, she was not in the mood and he should have known that. He watched her as she pretended to focus on the television, wanting desperately to be able to run his fingers over the creases in her brow to smooth them out, to ease her pain, make her smile. “No,” he answered quietly, “it isn’t too much. You deserve it.”

She looked over at him and quickly looked down shyly. “Thank you. So do you.”

He scoffed and poured himself another drink. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Hey,” she reached out to stop his arm from lifting his drink to his lips. “It absolutely is. You deserve so much and you don’t even see it.” She lowered her hand and shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

He let out a bitter laugh and downed the shot. “Thanks. I know.”

“Because you don’t realize how amazing you are,” she continued. “You’re creative and loyal and smart, God so smart, and brave and kind and hot and sweet and…”she stopped herself and suddenly backed away again, pouring herself another shot. “I hate love.” She downed the shot, refusing to look in his direction. “It only causes pain.”

He blinked at her a few times. Had she meant that about him? And why did she transition from talking about him to taking about love? “Marinette?”

“Yes?”

She looked at him with her big, beautiful, blue eyes. He could almost fool himself into believing he saw adoration in her eyes. “How drunk are you?”

She scoffed at him this time. “Not enough. Still capable of rational, lucid decision making. Clearly, need more liquor so I don’t have to think anymore, can’t remember anymore.”

He watched her avoid his eyes, pretending like she was okay. And she was pretending. He was the world’s foremost expert on pretending. He knew the signs. “Mari, those people are idiots to not want to be with you, to not want to spend as much time as possible with you, for not realizing how incredible you are.”

“But… you said I was annoying,” she said quietly. She looked up at him with uncertainty and vulnerability radiating from her. He couldn’t let that continue.

“Marinette,” he started, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for ruining their friendship. He moved so he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. “You are annoying. Your smile is annoying because it’s so bright and blinding. Your laugh is annoying because it's light and bright and makes the entire mood lighter. Your huge heart is annoying because it puts you and your heart in danger ALL the time. Your eyes are annoying because they’re clear and kind and make the people seeing them feel hopeful. Your lips are annoying because they’re plump and soft looking. Your kiss is annoying because it was warm and mind-blowing. It’s all annoying because it isn’t meant for me. That’s what makes it annoying.” He cradled her head in his hands and gently ran his thumbs over her cheeks. He furrowed his brow and gave her a desperate look. “Can we play pretend for tonight? Pretend we love each other? Make each other’s pain go away for a night.”

“I don’t want to pretend,” she whispered, moving closer to him until her breath was fanning out over his face.

He shook his head and angled his head to a better position. “I don’t have to.” His voice had turned husky and barely audible.

“Neither do I.” She pushed the last few centimeters to close the gap between them and capture his lips with her own.

<><><><><>

Roy moaned as the light hit his eyes. Usually the light didn’t get him unless he’d slept into the late, late morning. He turned over, trying to find respite from the light. He moved slowly so he wouldn’t wake up Marinette. His eyes flew open and he shot up. Marinette! That’s why he had slept late enough for the light to hit him. He and Marinette had kept each other awake until the early morning.

He looked over to the other side of the bed to see how she felt now that the alcohol had worn off. The bed was empty. They’d fallen asleep with his arms around her and her nuzzling into his chest. But Marinette was gone. He groaned and collapsed back onto the bed. He ran his hand over his face and into his hair. She left. Shit he ruined everything. She woke up, realized how much of a fuck up he is, and got the fuck out as quickly as she could.

He never should have let them sleep together last night, let alone repeatedly. She wasn’t in her right mind. He hadn’t been either, but he should have waited and now he’d ruined their friendship. He jumped at his phone when it started ringing. Maybe she was calling. That was perfect. They could talk about this and figure out where they were, hopefully, if he begged and promised never to look at her again, they could get back to friends.

He almost threw the phone when he saw it was Jason. “What do you want?” he demanded rougher than Jason deserved. But then again, he had almost definitely done something at some point to deserve it.

“Where are you?” Jason demanded back, rougher than Roy had been.

“In my apartment. Where are you?” Roy asked petulantly.

“In the garage where you’re supposed to be, asshole,” Jason answered shortly.

Fuck! Roy looked at the clock. It was after ten. He was supposed to meet Jason to work on his bike. He groaned. This day just kept getting better and fucking better. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees to cradle his head. “Sorry. I’m not making it today.”

“What the fuck, jackass? What am I supposed to do about my bike?” Jason yelled.

Roy sighed and ran his hand over his face again. Jason needed his bike for a job. He didn’t have time to wait for Roy to get his act together. “Sorry. I… yeah, fine. I’ll get there in a little bit.”

“Hurry the fuck up,” Jason growled at him.

“Yeah, okay,” Roy answered quietly.

The line went silent for a few moments. Roy almost tossed his phone at the call ending but Jason finally spoke up again. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing. I’ll get there when I get there,” Roy promised already starting to get up.

“Bullshit. You’re acting funny. What happened?”

Roy fell back to sit on the edge of the bed again. “I… I fucked up.”

“What’s fucking new?” Jason scoffed.

Roy shook his head and looked longingly at the wall. If he was closer, he could hit his head into it a few times, really drive the pain home. “I really fucked up this time.”

“Okay…” Jason prompted him.

“I slept with Marinette last night,” Roy groaned out.

“Fucking finally!” Jason cheered. “Fine, you two… wait, what do you mean fucked up? What did you do?”

“I told you I slept with her. I… we were drunk. I shouldn’t have slept with her. Fuck. I ruined everything. She’s going to hate me.”

“Pixie’s not going to hate you. What did she say this morning?”

“She left before I woke up.” He chuckled bitterly. “She always was the smart one. Got out as quickly as she could.”

“Okay, grab something to eat, take a shower, get here when you get here. I’ve got to make a call.” The line cut off quickly.

Roy pulled on some underwear and pajama bottoms and tucked his phone into the pocket. He made his way to the kitchen to start coffee. Today was definitely a multiple cups of coffee day. He was going to need lots of coffee to deal with this day. Maybe he could take a few extra thermoses of coffee with him to the garage. He just got to the kitchen when his phone started ringing again. His brow furrowed in confusion when he looked at his phone and realized his screen was still black. He jumped back when he heard a groan from the couch.

“What do you want, Jay?” Marinette croaked out sleepily. She sat up slowly, rubbing her hand over her face. “Why do you want to know where…” she paused to let him speak. Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you…” She looked around her and squeaked when she saw Roy staring at her, frozen in uncertainty. She gave Roy a timid wave and an awkward smile. “No I’m… I… uh… still here. I just moved to the couch.”

She turned away quickly and hunched over her phone. “I will,” she tried to whisper into the phone. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “We both know you’re not going to kick my ass…” she sat straight up suddenly and glanced back at Roy for a second before turning away again. “Yes, yes. Fine. I got it. Just stop threatening him,” she whisper shouted into the phone. “I’ll tell him…” she paused again. “I don’t know if there’s anything to congr…” she stopped when he cut her off. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Jay.”

She ended the call and took a deep breath before standing to face Roy. “Hi,” she said shyly, waving at him again, slowly making her way around the couch to the same side as him. “Jay said not to worry about the garage?”

“You’re still here,” he observed breathlessly, ignoring Jason’s message.

“I… You mentioned a while ago that Lian sometimes still crawls into bed with you in the mornings. We hadn’t discussed what this,” she motioned between them, “meant and I didn’t want her to find me there if this wasn’t going anywhere.” She looked away and hugged her arms around herself. “Sorry, I should have left but I didn’t want to call someone to pick me up and have to talk about it with them and I wasn’t in any condition to make it home on my own and cabs in this town, you know, it’s hit or miss.”

“No, I’m glad you stayed. I thought…” he paused, cutting himself off and felt his lips spread into a goofy smile. “You stayed.”

“I stayed,” she confirmed with a tentative smile. Her eyes darted behind him and returned to him, her face becoming serious. “I can go now though, before she wakes up. I’m sober enough now.”

He shook his head as he walked over to her, stopping just in front of her close enough for him to reach over and touch her, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t sure how she felt about last night and he didn’t want to presume. “Lian isn’t here. Remember? She was with Oliver and Dinah yesterday and I’m picking her up at dinner tonight.”

“Oh… right… that”s… yeah, you told me that. Drunk me didn’t remember that,” she hit her hand on her head and gave him a sheepish smile.

He chuckled and started to reach out toward her but pulled his hand back just before it touched her as he realized what might be causing her resistance. “Unless you were looking for an excuse to get away. We can pretend she’ll be coming out any second,” he offered quietly.

Marinette shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes on Roy. “I’m not. I just didn’t want to confuse or upset Lian.”

Roy chuckled and leaned against the back of the couch close to Marinette. “Finding you in our apartment or even in my bed wouldn’t upset Lian. She loves you. She asks for you to stay over all the time. The only thing that might upset her is that you’re sleeping in my bed and not having a sleepover with her.”

Marinette gave him a relieved smile and leaned against the couch too. “I guess I can schedule some sleepovers with her. We can have some girl time.”

“And what about me?” Roy asked hopefully.

“Do you want me to have sleepovers with you too?” She asked uncertainly, like she was looking for confirmation that it was something he would be okay with, let alone want. As though he would ever say no to her. Like he was more worthy than her.

He mentally scoffed at the very idea. She was the prize. She was the amazing one. She always had been. She was a goddess and he was just him. A screw up who tried his hardest and still screwed up everything he touched. He kept falling, kept failing and Marinette shined. She didn’t even have to work at it but she still did. God, he loved her. And she was staring at him like he was deserving and he really wanted to be.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her between his legs. “God, please yes.” She let out a shuddering, relieved breath and melted into his embrace, hugging him back tightly. She pulled away just enough to look up at him with a loving smile. He cupped her face with his hand and looked over her face studying it in awe until he bent down to kiss her slowly. He pulled away too soon for Marinette’s liking. “I just wanted to do that sober.”

“As good as you remember?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

“Better,” he smiled back at her and brushed her bangs away from her face, returning his hand to cup her jaw. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.”

She laid her hand on top of his. Her eyes shined up at him. “I’ve been waiting for you to.” She wound her other hand behind his neck and pulled him down to her lips, capturing them in a passionate, desperate kiss. His arm tightened against her waist, pulling her closer and holding her flush against him with one hand. His other hand ghosted over her neck and down her side and back up again, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingers moved to trace the lines of his muscles on his abdomen, chest, and arms.

She whined as he pulled away from her, but squeaked when he picked her up by her thighs to straddle him, walking them back toward the bedroom. “Let’s start that sleepover now,” he whispered huskily against her lips. She giggled and pulled herself up to kiss up his neck and nibble on his ear as he struggled to focus on making it to the bed without falling.

Tags:

@boldlyanxious

#maribat #Lady Arrow #roynette

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