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#like I’ll start to panic and get all self-conscious when I’m not sure how to properly end my nightly sessions with Lord Apollon
gods-and-accolades · 3 months
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One thing that’s been difficult to learn when communing with the Gods has been the fact that I don’t have to mask with them. Sometimes it’s hard to understand the fact that the Gods don’t think like humans do. They aren’t going to be uncomfortable if I ramble on and on as I lose my train of thought, and conversely, they won’t be bothered if I randomly go silent because talking is too much effort. They won’t mind if I fidget while talking to them or if I have to stand up and go for a walk around my room mid-convo because I physically can’t sit still. It’s still difficult for me to accept that I can fully be myself before them without judgement, but I’m getting there and honestly it’s so freeing.
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st4rgzer · 7 months
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PROM QUEEN (matt sturniolo)
summary: loosely based on the song “prom queen” by Beach Bunny
genre: angst but fluff at the end!
cw!: self deprecating, insecurities, this is a heavy one!!
a/n: had this one in my drafts for forever and i’m not sure if i’ve ever posted this or not so sorry😭
I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person looking back at me, my eye bags were far more visible then normal, my skin, pale, I had not gone out in at least a week. I had about 15 missed calls from Matt, nothing happened between us, I just didn’t feel like responding, life doesn’t feel real. I feel heavy when I walk and every step is a mile, mirrors have always been my biggest enemy but since I’ve started dating Matt it had gotten better, for some reason, I’ve started to fall into my bad habits again. I’m once again the kid that would always insist on being the one piggybacking, always the one at the bottom of the pyramid, and in high school I was never cut out for prom queen.
Pretty wasn’t a word I’d use to describe me, even if people insisted in calling me that, I never thought the same way, what were they seeing that I wasn’t?
Matt always seemed to ease these thoughts when he thought I was getting self conscious, or saying negative things about myself. Him being a popular public figure, girls are all over him, pretty girls, why was he wasting his time with me when he could be with them?
“don’t think that baby, you know I love you, only you, I promise I wouldn’t change you for anyone” he’d say. But he had to say that, it’s his duty as a boyfriend, i doubt he even means that.
After rotting in my bed for another good hour I decided to pick up one of his calls, I didn’t want him to think I was dead.
“y/n? where are you? are you ok-? why haven’t you been picking up?” He said, the panic evident in his voice.
“I had my phone on silent and I was- I was taking a shower” I responded hesitantly, seeing if he was buying it or not, I didn’t want to make up something so bizarre but I didn’t want to have to tell him the truth. I realized how hoarse my voice sounded.
“well, open up. I’m at your door.”
My thoughts froze. I hung up, repeating the word “no” in my head, I got up, I wasn’t going to just leave him hanging. As I went downstairs I remembered how much of a mess I looked like, absolute rubbish. I reluctantly opened the door with my head down, I couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes.
When he caught a good glimpse of me I could see the way his face softened, feeling pitiful for me.
“baby…”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in tightly, closing the door with the back of his shoe. As i felt my breath becoming quicker, I let it all out, sobbing against his chest, his heartbeat guiding my breath somehow.
“okay look at me love, follow my breathing ok?” he said softly, grabbing my shoulders slightly and tilting my chin up so I’d look at him. I did as he said, my shaky breath trying to slow down and imitate his.
“good, you’re doing so good baby” he whispered. Eventually my breaths slowed down, my eyes stung and my head was hurting from the previous crying, my hair was messy and frizzy, my cheeks were swollen and wet, yet he held me, he kissed my forehead and just held me, he didn’t force me to say anything right now. He didn’t insist on telling him what had happened. He whispered sweet nothings and “i love you”’s in my ear every once in a while.
I’m grateful for Matt, im going to to take more care of myself, for him, and then eventually, I’ll be able to do it for me.
a/n: if this is shit i apologize but have this while i finish my other fics i have coming up😭
taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @eyelessdemon @gabbylovesreading @ssturniolo @thetriplets3 @strnlsblog @stvrni0lo
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mephinomaly · 1 year
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[TL] Capture Your Heart/Chapter 1
Season: Winter
Location: Cafeteria
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Tomoya: Hello Hakaze-senpai. Is it alright if I sit with you?
Kaoru: Ah, Tomoya-kun. Of course, take a seat~
None of the other Ra*bits are hopping about, so is it just you today?
Tomoya: Yes. I’ve just finished a recording for a drama.
Kaoru: You’re in another drama? That makes sense for such a popular actor like yourself~♪
Tomoya: Nono, I’m not popular. A kid in the same office has gotten sick, I’m their substitute.
I was just a background character, I barely had any lines.
Kaoru: I see… So why did you replace them of all people?
Surely even a newbie to theatre could take that role, right?
Tomoya: I offered to do it. The office staff were having a panic, and I thought it would be a good experience for me.
Kaoru: Experience?
Tomoya: Working on staying in sight whilst simultaneously blending into the scene. When you don’t have a lot of lines, you can really focus on refining your technique.
It’s a great opportunity to get the directors to remember your face. It might be a small role but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it seriously.
Aha. Sorry for just talking about myself.
Kaoru: Nah, it’s all good.
…Hm, it’s an interesting way to think about it.
I’d basically only been taking roles I’d been offered, so I didn’t realise I haven’t been getting to experience that sort of thing.
You’ve opened my eyes. Thanks, Tomoya-kun.
Tomoya: No problem… But you’re a popular guy, right Hakaze-senpai?
You were in a tennis themed drama the other day weren’t you?
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Kaoru: Ahaha, you saw that? How embarrassing.
Tomoya: Why’s that? It was really really good. You were so cool as a hot-blooded club leader!
Kaoru: You think so? When Koga-kun saw me he said I was like a completely different person and laughed at me?
Tomoya: That’s surely a compliment. To seem different, to turn into someone that you’re not - isn’t that what it means to be an actor?
Kaoru: Right… You’re kind, Tomoya-kun.
They do tell me when I could improve on something, but they praise me for the most basic things. Kinda feels like they’re spoiling me.
Tomoya: It’s not just me saying good things, you know? There’s others who praise you, like Anzu-san for example.
Kaoru: Eh…Anzu-chan?
Tomoya: Yup. Actually, when we were taking a break backstage, Anzu-san and I watched it.
When the offer came in, the person who Anzu-san recommended was you. Some people were worried and thought it might be a miscast but—
If a senior was able to do it, it would be good.
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Kaoru: H-huh. Right…
(I had no idea… I had doubts about the casting too. But if Anzu-chan says so…)
(I wonder if Tomoya-kun knows why she recommended me. I need to hear more.)
(...Focus man. It’ll sound super weird if I keep asking about it.)
Tomoya: Something the matter, Hakaze-senpai?
Kaoru: No, nothing’s the matter.
Uhh. Since we’re on the topic, could I ask you something about acting?
With the character I play, there’s a bit where he starts to hesitate towards the end.
Tomoya: Oh, okay yeah. I’ll be happy to help.
Time: A short time later
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Kaoru: (...I’m glad I asked Tomoya-kun about that. After all it’s no good to base your acting off of someone you know.)
...
(...Why did she choose me? What did she think of my performance?)
(I didn’t end up asking Tomoya-kun… If I’m so worked up about it, I’ll just ask her directly.)
(It’s just about work. As an actor it’s totally normal to ask for others opinions, so there’s no reason for me to be self-conscious about this.)
(Huh? That voice… Anzu-chan—)
(...and Moricchi?)
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Chiaki: —Hmm, is that day no good? If Anzu can’t, it must be busy…
Don’t pull that face. Sadness doesn’t suit you.
…Haha. Yup, that’s a quote from my favourite hero show.
But I do mean it. I don’t want you to worry.
It makes me happy that you take me seriously. Thanks, Anzu.
Kaoru: (What the… What’s with these vibes? Are these…good vibes?)
(I wanna know what they’re talking about, but I can’t exactly interrupt…)
(If I just back up and pretend I never saw them, I can just ask Anzu-chan another day–)
Chiaki: …Hm?
Oho, Hakaze! That’s totally Hakaze!
Kaoru: Oh God…
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greenlotusleaf · 3 years
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You were having a hard time concentrating at the restaurant, distracted by your naughty secret. You were celebrating an early-relationship anniversary, seated across the table from your partner on a fancy date. But before going out, the two of you had finally given in to your desperate lascivious urges, and you had let your lover finish inside you for the first time-- the first time anybody ever had. So here you sat in your fancy outfit, hiding a smile with your menu, because nobody else here besides your partner knew how full of cum you were.
Looking back on the night, it’s hard to understand what happened. Can a person even *be* allergic to semen? Regardless, this is when the symptoms started, over drinks and appetizers.
You started to feel hot, and a little lightheaded. Smiling and taking a nervous sip of champagne, you leaned back a little, and your partner asked if you were okay. Waving them off with a flirt (”I’m fine, just a little.. worn out from earlier, maybe?”), you began to notice an odd feeling in your abdomen. Oncoming nausea? You placed a hand on your belly and were surprised to feel it larger than you were accustomed to-- round and firm. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you excused yourself to the restroom. Walking through the fancy restaurant, your belly jiggled, and you imagined the high-class diners staring at you and gossiping, calling you fat.
You appraised yourself in the bathroom mirror. How could you not have noticed this before? Your shirt was riding up over your swollen midsection, leaving a soft, creamy crescent of skin exposed along the underside of your newly round belly. You looked almost pregnant, and as soon as the thought struck you, you thought of your pre-dinner workout, your slaked lust, your partner’s hot cum filling you up.... *Surely not, right?* You turned, getting the side view, looking even bigger. Were you still swelling? Indulging the cliché, you pinched yourself to check whether you were dreaming, only to panic at the feel of your thickened ass under your hand. The marble bathroom counter brushes against your bare belly, bulging out from beneath your shirt, and the cold shocks you.
Who knows how much time you lost, before your phone buzzed. The concerned text from your partner: “babe, you okay in there?” You briefly contemplate calling off the date, pleading mysterious illness or miraculous sudden pregnancy, but you realize you’re going to have to walk back through the restaurant one way or another. “I’ll be right back,” you reply, and try to cover your bloated body as much as you can. Tugging your shirt down as far as you can, it barely covers your belly button... what is happening to you? 
You put on a brave face and waddle out of the bathroom, making your way through the restaurant back to your table and your waiting partner. Your thighs brush together as you walk, and you blush bright red-- both at the embarrassing new sensation, and at the fact that it turns you on. Rounding a corner, you bump a decorative plant with your hip, almost knocking it over-- you’re suddenly so much wider than you’re used to. 
People really are staring at you this time, as you’re clearly not matching the fancy dress code anymore. Big as a house and showing so much skin, you’re the center of attention, and it occurs to you that your naughty secret is out, in a way. Maybe they don’t know the particulars of what you did this afternoon for the first time, but they’re certainly imagining how you’ve been fucked and filled, knocked up and paraded about. You feel their eyes upon you like hot lasers, and you imagine they can see right through you, can see the secret cum inside you. You imagine that all this mysterious extra volume of your body is just... you being filled up with gallons of your partner’s lust. You blush and look down, partly to avoid eye contact with these judgmental strangers, and partly because you’re turning yourself on.
You sit back down at your table, and your partner’s eyes go wide. They’re asking you questions, checking on you, sweetly making sure you’re okay-- but there’s something else going on there, too. You can tell by the way their eyes keep flickering hungrily over your heavy new roundness. “Let’s just finish our appetizers and head home,” you suggest. “I’ll call a doctor tomorrow, but tonight, I think I need a different kind of treatment.” Your partner calls for the check.
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imkylotrash · 4 years
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On The Edge
Pairing: Riven x reader
Request: Reader is a water fairy & gets infected by a burned one and riven’s scared that the reader dies. Anonymous
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“You know what? I’m done.” People lie when they tell you heartbreak doesn’t kill. You lift your hand to your chest convinced there’ll be a hole from where he ripped your heart out but somehow there’s no injury. 
“You’re done?” It’s masochistic to ask him to repeat it but you just don’t understand how an argument turned into a breakup. You’d mentioned that you were worried about his day drinking which you still are and he’d just lost it. Accused you of wanting to change him and being like everyone else. Clearly, you’d touched a nerve, but you never thought he’d break up with you. 
“I’m just over you always trying to change me. I am who I am.” He grabs his stuff before running out the door. Your feet seem glued to the floor because every time you try to follow him, your feet refuses to move. Maybe it’s the shock holding you in place. 
“What just happened?” Sky asks. Of course, he heard everything. He’s probably been waiting out in the hallway waiting for the fight to be over with. 
“We should get going.” You’re not ready to say it out loud. 
“I thought you said it was a bad idea?” 
“I changed my mind.” You grab his sword and hands it to him. Yesterday, Sky asked you if you were up for a little hunting in the woods to help Silva. You’d told him it was a bad idea and to let the adults handle it, but now you’d do anything to just get out of here. 
“Hey,” he says grabbing your arm, “no distractions. We have to focus when we go out there.” You squash the small voice in your head telling you not to go. 
“I’m fine, really.” You even plaster on a smile to convince him and poor Sky, who is desperate to help Silva, believes you. As you head out, you leave a note for Riven in case he comes back to tell him where you’ve gone and that you want to talk when you get back. It’s just that you don’t return in any condition to talk to him. You don’t remember Sky carrying you back to school or Mr. Harvey treating your wounds. For a while all you feel is pain. Your body is on fire and you’re screaming for someone to help you but it’s no use.
“Baby, I’m right here.” You try to locate the voice but it seems so far away. He keeps talking but you’re in and out of consciousness. 
“Please just open your eyes. I’m so sorry.” He keeps talking but you can’t hear him. The next time you’re conscious, you manage to open your eyes. Even in his sleep, Riven is clutching your hand. You try to feel out in the room but you can’t get a sense of water anywhere. Panic settles in your body. You’ve never been without water in your entire life, even just a glass of water would be enough for you to feel calm. Being in touch with your element keeps you calm but now you can’t feel it at all. 
Riven,” you croak trying to move despite the pain. Immediately, he’s awake asking what you need. 
“Water.” He runs out the door and returns with a glass of water. Just the feeling of it entering the room calms you down. 
“We had to remove everything with water in it while Ben treated the wounds. Your powers were all over the place,” Riven explains grabbing your hand once again. Silence settles in the small room as you drink the water but you don’t need Riven to say it out loud for you to know; you’re not healing. 
“Is Sky okay?” you ask and Riven nods. 
“He brought you back to school. He saved your life,” Riven says in a bitter tone.
“I’m so sorry for what I said,” he whispers finally looking at you. He’s seconds from crying and miles from how he normally acts in situations like these. 
“I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry and I took it out on you. When I came back, you were gone. I kept thinking if something happened to you, it’d be my fault.” 
“Riven, no one is at fault here except me. It was my decision to go out there. I’m sorry I scared you but I’ll be fine.” He keeps quiet and you realise there’s something he’s not telling you. 
“What is it?” you ask wondering if you’re even ready to hear what he’s about to say. Judging by the grim look on his face, it’s not going to be pleasant. 
“They were hunting in groups. Sky managed to kill one but the other got you. Silva’s out hunting for the one who hurt you.” 
“But that’s good news. Sky got the one who injured Silva,” you say not understanding why Riven looks ready to cry. If anyone can find the Burned One, Silva is the one for the job. He used to hunt these during the dark years. 
“We’re running out of time,” Riven says and it hits you like a brick. Sure, Silva is good at hunting these things - maybe even the best - but there’s only so much time before Mr. Harvey can’t keep the infection from spreading. You might die and all you can think about is how much it’ll destroy Riven. 
“There’s hope until the very end, Riven. If you don’t give up, I won’t.”
“Never.” He leans in and kisses your forehead. He’s being as gentle as possible but your entire skin is on fire. You smile promising yourself that as soon as you get a second alone, you’ll get to shed a tear. But right now you remain strong as you look at Riven who’s turned into a complete mess. Your heart breaks for the boy he truly is at heart and how scared he is of people leaving him. 
“Hey,” you say grabbing his chin to make him look at you, “I’m not going anywhere. We have to trust that Silva knows what he’s doing.” You take a deep breath signalling for Riven to do the same. Every breath adds to your pain but it’s worth it if it helps Riven cheer up. What hurts you more than anything is the pain in his eyes. For a moment, it looks like it actually helps then Sky enters. 
“You’re awake,” he states in a surprised tone. 
“I hear you saved my ass out there,” you say hoping to keep the conversation light, “thank you.” 
“Wasn’t easy. Had to drag your ass all the way through the forest. I’ll send you the check from my chiropractor.” You start laughing but it turns into a cough and immediately Riven’s frown makes a return. 
“You should take a shower, handsome. You smell.” Sky laughs locking eyes with you for a brief moment before helping Riven to his feet. 
“I’ll help you to our room, but you gotta handle the shower part on your own,” Sky teases and you’re forever thankful that your hunting partner knows you this well. Although, Riven protests it only takes Sky minutes to drag him out of the room. You finally allow yourself to feel the pain from your wounds. Trying to seem fine is taking its toll on you. Five minutes of self-pity and you’re done. You tell yourself over and over as you try to face the fact that you might not make it through this time. When Sky returns, you’re not quick enough to dry away the tears. 
“He’s showering, you still have a few minutes,” he says quickly and you fall back against the pillows. 
“I don’t want to die,” you whisper admitting the one thing you’ll never be able to admit to Riven. He needs you to be strong but there’s no shame in falling apart in front of Sky. 
“Don’t talk like that. Silva will find the Burned One and kill it.” Ever the fixer trying to see the positive. 
“He doesn’t have much time. I feel it in my bones. It’s spreading and soon Harvey won’t be able to stop it.” Sky tugs a strand of hair behind your ear with a pitiful look in his eyes. He knows you’re right and he knows it’ll destroy Riven. 
“There’s still time. Saul sent word that they were tracking one up North. It might be the one,” Sky offers with a smile. He’s giving you hope when there is none. You know you won’t make it through another night with these wounds. Your fever is too high for your body to keep up. 
“There’s a letter in a shoebox under my bed in case I don’t make it. Please give it to Riven.” You’ve always known that being a fairy comes with certain dangers so you didn’t want to leave unprepared. 
“What are you talking about?” Riven is standing by the door looking like he might break something. “What letter?”
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you say trying to sit up straight. 
“Give us a minute, Sky.” He sends you an apologetic look as he leaves the room. Riven sits down next to you awfully calm. It’s the calm right before he explodes and you’re not sure you’re ready for it. 
“What letter?” he asks again making it clear that he’s not going to drop this. 
“I wrote you a letter in case I was ever injured and didn’t...” 
“In case you didn’t make it? But you said there was hope!” His voice is shaking but you’re not sure if it’s from anger or heartbreak. 
“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to prepare for every outcome. I-” 
“There’s one outcome and that’s you staying alive. Do you hear me?” You bite your tongue and nod. The last thing you need is for the two of you to argue when you might not wake up tomorrow. Instead you pat the empty space next to you and smile. 
“Just be careful,” you whisper as he gently crawls into bed with you. He falls asleep there and at some point, even you fall asleep despite the pain getting worse. You don’t expect to wake up the next day but you do. The fever broke at some point during the night and the foul smell of your wounds have gone away. Not daring to hope you slowly lift up your shirt to find beautiful, pink skin rather than ugly slashes. 
“Riven!” you yell out in excitement. 
“What?” He’s awake in seconds looking for the danger. 
“Saul did it. He found the right one,” you exclaim lifting up your shirt to show him the healing wounds. Your hands are shaking as you cup his cheeks and kiss him. You’re going to be alright. 
“As soon as Mr. Harvey clears you, we’re burning that letter. You don’t get do die on me, alright? Not before we’re old and grey.” You can’t help but smile at the thought of growing old with Riven. 
“Okay.”
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1kook · 3 years
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commercial break: eleven
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this is a netflix & chill drabble <3
SUMMARY You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small.
WARNINGS sadness, vulnerabilities, insecurity, self confidence issues, an idea of “feeling ugly��, tw // mental breakdowns and feelings of regression, crying, jk doesn’t want anyone near, oc tries her best to comfort him
RATING e for everyone
WC 1.2k
NOTES i love the idea of jk being the perfect man, but I also want to show moments where he isn’t so perfect and where he’s not the mature man oc thinks he is… I love my boy so much 😭😭 also it’s 1am helloooooo ALSO it’s formatted ugly bc I’m posting this from my phone 😀 I’ll fix it tmrw promise
Jungkook hates to admit it, but some days are harder than others.
Some days, Jungkook wakes up with an uncomfortably stifling feeling in his chest, one that threatens to wiggle its way into the loneliest parts of his heart and find permanent residency. A drowsy one, makes him linger in bed well past his preferred wake up time, the blackout curtains in his room ensheathing him in a sea of darkness that his heart is adamant on replicating. But it’s worse than drowning, because his lungs are clear; it’s just that he doesn’t have the strength, the willpower to force another breath— he just wants to lay there and do nothing.
“Good morning,” he hears from beside him, and a different weight presses against his side. You’re warm in the morning, soft too. He likes how you feel, he always does. But not today. Today, he doesn’t know how he feels about the overwhelming presence at his side. You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. “You sleep okay?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer. The words don’t catch in his throat, but in the recesses of his mind instead, overlapping and overflowing until it feels like tv static, fuzzy and blurry— confusing. You shift beside him, and his heart kicks up an anxious rhythm. It’s not the normal butterflies that beat their wings against the walls of his rib cage when you smile, nor is it the thundering gallops of a dozen horses when you touch him just so. It’s this nauseating, terrified feeling, one that screams at him to answer lest he upset you with his silence.
There’s a hand on his chest, and he doesn’t like how it feels right now, just another suffocating layer to add on, but even worse he doesn’t know how to tell you that.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to. It slinks away, but that warning bell in his head is going off anyway, makes him look over at you in panic, only to find you propped up on your elbow, inquisitive eyes focused on him. Your features are still soft, and Jungkook is pretty sure there’s traces of last night’s makeup clinging to your lash line. You’re so pretty— you always are. Jungkook can’t handle this right now. You’re too pretty, and Jungkook feels ugly. (Ah, so that was the feeling.) You can’t look at Jungkook when he’s ugly, you won’t want Jungkook when he’s ugly.
“Hey,” you say softly, gently. Jungkook’s heart aches. A pair of fingers brush along his cheekbones, drag through the wetness that escapes the corners of his eyes, trails down toward his ears—when had he started crying?—where you delicately tuck his hair back. “I’m gonna get started on breakfast,” you tell him, voice hushed, whispering. Jungkook is hanging onto every single word, feels like you’ll disintegrate before his very eyes if he isn’t careful. You can probably tell. “You don’t have to eat right now, but it’ll be down there if you want, okay?”
You move to get off the bed, scooting away from him, leaving him behind. He’s fine with it until he isn't, until your hand touches the door knob to his room and a shameful sniffle escapes him. Loud too, loud enough to make you turn back in surprise. And that alarmed look on your face is enough to make Jungkook want to hide, hurriedly rolling over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow, arms clutching at the softness as he cries. You hurry back. He doesn’t want you to leave, but he doesn’t want you to see either. He doesn’t know what he wants.
“No,” he begs, turning the other way when your face comes up beside him, kneeling beside his side of the bed. “Don’t look at me— please.”
There’s a hand on his back, and Jungkook hates how much he loves it, hates how much he instinctively yearns to find comfort in you at a time like this. He was getting better, he’s been getting better. He swears he has; he has journals full of feelings to prove it, vulnerable text message threads with Namjoon to prove it.
But he won’t lie. The Valentine’s Day incident had left a bad taste in Jungkook’s mind, and these past few months have been hard. He feels like he’s regressing, like he’s back to being a teenager all over again. By itself, that knowledge sucks. Combined with the warm palm on his back and the loving voice calling his name— combined with the fact you've been watching Jungkook these past few months each and every time he’s woken up like this… it’s humiliating. “Don’t look,” he chokes out, each drag of your fingers through his hair sending a confused pang of emotions straight to his heart.
“Why can’t I look?” you ask quietly, toying with the strands of his hair. He sniffles. “What would I see?”
“Me,” Jungkook sobs, wishing the mattress would just up and swallow him.
You’re silent, a fact that Jungkook wishes he could appreciate had it not made the sounds of his anguish even more obvious. It makes him self-conscious, more than he already is, so he forces himself to quiet down. It doesn’t feel better, but it does let him hear your next words. “I like looking at you,” you tell him, and the bed dips down beside him. After a moment, you speak again. “Do you feel ugly today?”
Careful, calculated. Like he’s a ticking bomb and you don’t want him to blow. Briefly, he had explained it before, skirted around it in embarrassment as he talked about the way he felt. It had been months ago— maybe the weekend after Valentine’s —so he’s surprised you remember. Jungkook nods.
“Then I’ll wait,” you announce, and eventually he feels you settle in beside him. His head is still turned the other way, hiding shamefully, but he can feel your warm breath against his skin when you slowly cuddle in close. An arm wraps itself around his back. He doesn’t mind it this time— he just wants to be held now. “I’ll wait until you feel pretty again.”
Part of Jungkook wants to snap at you; he doesn’t want to feel pretty, he’s never felt pretty. Jungkook felt average at best, and on days where you stroked his ego, maybe even handsome. But pretty? That’s not something that’ll ever happen, and he doesn’t want you to waste your hopes on a possibility that does not exist.
But that’s mean, and he doesn’t want to chase you away, scare you away, even if he doesn’t want you to see him like this. So Jungkook shuts his mouth, stays still, tries to match the soft rise and fall of your chest against his side instead.
Some days he’s fine in a few minutes without a single tear shed. Other days are long. Other days are so painful and uncomfortable, he just wants to hide. He wants to climb into his shell and never come out, hide his ugliness from the world and never have to worry about being seen again.
You don’t lie to him, don’t feed him empty promises while you wait. You just lay silently at his side, pulling him closer when his sniffles get louder. You don’t say anything unnecessary and you never make it about yourself.
Lately his shell has grown bigger, wider, comfier. Big enough for someone else to squeeze in, hold him close when he doesn’t feel like himself.
He doesn’t hate it.
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mousepsychologist · 3 years
Text
With Aaron
Summary: Reader avoids Hotch after getting cleared for sex following a kidnapping incident because she is self-conscious about the scars left behind.
Pairing: soft!hotch X Female Reader
Content/warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI): Language, brief mentions of torture (similar to an episode of CM), brief mentions of knives and blood (as a means or result of aforementioned torture), mentions and descriptions of scars, insecurities, sexual content, oral sex: female receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, praise, use of pet names and some fluff.
If I am missing anything please let me know!
Word count: 3,956
A/N: Submission for the @hotchafterhours Smutty One Shot Challenge. Also, this is the first fanfic I have ever written, so if it is super rough to read...my sincerest of apologies, and feel free to pretend this does not exist😅😂
Sex…
Sex with Aaron…
That is all you ever think about. You are absolutely consumed with the idea of being with Aaron.
You love sex with Aaron. You’ve been having sex with Aaron almost everyday for two years now and holy shit...it is the best sex you’ve ever had. It is so good that even when you shouldn’t be thinking about it...you definitely are.
When you innocently watch him twirl a pen between his thumb, pointer and middle fingers while thinking, all you can think about is how those long, thick fingers feel inside of you. Or, when you watch him sip his coffee, all you can think about is how those soft lips feel sucking and nipping at your bare skin.
However, anything he does, innocent or not, it always gets you going. So, you can’t fully blame him. But, you know Aaron, and some days you are sure he intentionally tries to get you squirming...even at work.
Everyone knows he is Mr. Professional and you think just the same but you also know that you are his achilles heel. So, if and when he wants to play games, well...you can be his checkmate.
You will rock a deep v-neck blouse that gives him the perfect view of your cleavage or a tight pencil dress that accentuates your ass because you know it will cause his face to falter or his breathing patterns to become erratic.
The two of you are the King and Queen of the sexual chess board. He knows how to move in ways that make you scream out in pleasure while you know how to sacrifice your pawns so he can seize control of the bedroom.
And as much as you love thinking about sex with Aaron or actually having sex with Aaron, you are able to sometimes keep your sexual thoughts at bay.
However, when you aren’t thinking about sex with Aaron, you are thinking about cuddling with Aaron, watching TV with Aaron, going on dates with Aaron, cooking with Aaron, laughing until you’re crying with Aaron and everything else in-between. Anything and everything that the two of you could possibly do together is always what you’re thinking about.
Your relationship with Aaron has never been just about sex. However, sex with Aaron has always been a sacred thing between the two of you. He treats your body like a temple. Not just any temple though...rather a temple he seems to have built himself.
He knows your body better than you do and how to make you feel like putty.
He knows how to interpret your moans as well as assess your temperament and determine whether you want to have playful or rough sex or, just softer, lazier sex.
And up until now, sex with Aaron has never been something you were nervous or self-conscious about.
---
Everything changed following your kidnapping two months ago where an unsub managed to hold you hostage for a week.
It was the worst week of your life. It was a long week that consisted of beatings, cigarette burns and knives being dragged up and down your body.
***Two Months Ago***
When the team came bursting into the basement you were being held in, you looked like a bruised, bloodied, mangled mess. You are hunched over and tied to a chair with your clothes barely hanging on by a thread. Your body is littered with both long and short knife marks, small and large bruises, and multiple cigarette burns.
As your team stormed the area, you were so disoriented that you didn’t even comprehend what was happening around you.
A large, calloused hand gently touches your shoulder. You flinch and the hand immediately retracts itself.
“Y/N...” he pauses. “Y/N… it’s me. It's Aaron.” His voice is so quiet, calm, and soothing.
You immediately relax. You have never been more relieved in your life. You blink a few times and your vision unblurs to see an unfamiliar Aaron.
He is so panicked and scared. You are sure you’ve never seen him this scared. He is also tired. So so tired. You are positive he hasn’t slept since you’ve gone missing.
He slowly places his hand back on your shoulder once he realizes that you know it's him. You're slightly shaking and exceptionally weak.
“Sweetheart, I need to carry you to the ambulance. Is that okay?”
You nod and go to straighten up but immediately wince and whimper in pain.
“Y/N, no, don’t move. I’ve got you”.
To pick you up he gently places an arm under your knees and another behind your back. It hurts but you find solace in his touch and the faint smell of his cologne. You bury your face deep into his chest and feel your tears surface as you start to sniffle.
Aaron immediately notices and places a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“Y/N, it's okay. I’ve got you.”
You press yourself further into him and grasp firmly at his shirt. Your tears start to come faster. “Please don’t leave me Aar. Please don’t go anywhere. I’m scared and I don’t want to be alone again.”
“Oh Love...it’s okay. You’re not alone. I am not going anywhere. I am right here. You have me. Always. I want you to forget everything and everyone else but me.”
You feel his grip on you tighten as you go unconscious.
That's the last thing you remember until you wake up in the hospital two days later.
---
***Present Day***
It has been 53 days since you have had sex with Aaron. But today is the day you are supposed to receive medical clearance from your doctor.
Up until this morning, all you wanted was to have sex with Aaron. Because of your doctor’s orders, Aaron wouldn’t give in to sex until you were cleared. You were totally okay with following the doctor’s orders but Aaron and you had decided that it was just best to not do anything remotely sexual until you were cleared.
So...for the last 53 days, the most the two of you have done is kissed and cuddled. No question about it, the two of you love to kiss and cuddle but...you also love to do SO...MUCH...MORE.
You understood where Aaron is coming from. He just wants you safe and healthy.
You, on the other hand, want so badly to be fucked by your boyfriend.
So, it’s safe to say that you are so excited to get cleared. You know Aaron is excited too... though he won’t admit it.
You have tried multiple times to get him off but it's never worked. You want to do it for him, but you selfishly need to have his large, veiny, cock deep in your throat. You want to taste him, to make him feel how he always makes you feel. You also miss the way his hips buck towards you causing you to choke on his pulsating dick.
But he never budged. And since he never did, this also meant that the two of you haven't seen each other naked in the last 53 days.
You miss his cock just as much as you miss his mouth sucking on your clit or having his hands pinch your nipples, but by waiting, you know that the first time back to having sex with Aaron will be worth the wait. As Aaron said it quite clearly one day, “Pretty girl, I’m going to make you cum so much that you won’t even be able to think straight. I may have to make you cum for every day you haven’t been able to.” He said this with a smirk and a wink, but you’re pretty sure he is not kidding.
...And damn it, you are so ready for it.
---
You wake up the morning of your appointment, and head to the bathroom to shower and get ready. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You are so excited to finally have sex with Aaron tonight. You take a little longer in the shower to prepare yourself. Using extra exfoliator, moisturizer and your more expensive shampoo and conditioner.
It isn’t until you step out of the shower and catch a glimpse of your naked body that your anxiety flares with a vengeance. Sure, a lot of the cuts and burns have healed and the bruises are long gone but there are still some scars that are still blatantly noticeable. They look so ugly, red and puffy.
The panic sets in at the thought of Aaron seeing you tonight. You feel the pressure of how tonight is supposed to go. You know Aaron loves you no matter what but that doesn’t silence the voices telling you otherwise.
A knock at the door pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts. “Honey, are you almost ready?”
“Umm, ya. Just a sec.”
You quickly put your clothes on but your eyes never leave the mirror that is reflecting your damaged body. You exit your bathroom and head to the kitchen where Aaron is pouring two cups of coffee.
“Morning gorgeous.” You cringe at the name which you are sure he notices but he doesn’t acknowledge it and continues on. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you to your appointment?”
“No, it's okay. It shouldn’t take too long anyways.”
“Alright, my love. I will see you at work then.”
He walks up to you and kisses you gently. His hands lay on your hips and slowly take the ends of your sweater in them. You begin to feel his hands touch the skin just above your waistline and immediately grab both of them and pull away. He gives you a questioning look but before he can say anything you beat him to it.
“Babe, I really have to go. I don’t want to be late.” You place your hand on his cheek and give him a quick kiss on the lips. “I love you and I’ll see you later.”
You turn and walk out missing the clearly puzzled look on Aaron’s face.
---
You arrive at work a few hours later cleared to have sex again. And though you want to be excited, you aren't. You are so in your head that you don’t know what to do.
You know you can’t avoid Aaron so you walk into his office to tell him the “good” news.
Aaron hears you walk in and close the door. He quickly walks to you and kisses you before asking about the appointment. You inform him that you’re cleared and you panic more as you see the excitement spread across his face.
He cups one hand on your cheek while the other lays on your hip. He slowly starts to kiss you again. You love the taste of him. You can taste the coffee from this morning as his tongue makes its way into my mouth. Your hands go to his neck and begin tugging at his hair.
Aaron loves when you tug at his hair so you are not surprised when it elicits a few moans from him. And anytime a moan leaves those beautiful lips of his, it always runs straight to your core. You can feel your panties dampen as he sucks on your bottom lip and squeezes your hips.
You are so lost in this kiss and it’s the first time all day that you aren’t drowning in your thoughts.
You are in the moment and it's amazing.
The hand cupping your cheek moves to mimic his other hand squeezing your hip. You don’t even feel his thumbs rubbing the skin above your waistline and dipping under the top portion of your thong. You are so focused on rubbing your hands along his ribcage and chest. You love feeling his chest and tummy.
Aaron starts kissing down your jawline causing you to tilt your head back in pleasure. You can feel his soft lips dance their way down your neck. It's the stark contrast of his rough, calloused fingertips sliding up both sides of your ribcage that snaps you back to reality.
You quickly step away and readjust your blouse.
“Woah Y/N.” He gently grabs your wrists. “What is going on? What's wrong?” He asks with pleading puppy dog eyes.
“Nothing is wrong Aar. It’s just that we're at work with people around.”
“Okay, but that hasn’t stopped us in the past.” A slight smirk appears on his face.
“I know, but I would rather wait until we are home. Why don’t you come over to my place after work?” Hopefully being in the comfort of your own apartment will calm your nerves.
“I’d love to. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” He moves both hands to your cheeks and places a delicate kiss on your forehead.
“Sounds good. I just have a few more reports to finish before I head out.” You say as you head towards his office door.
“Alright, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to it!”
You can see the excitement on his face and hear the sweetness in his voice as you exit his office. The nerves fluttering in your stomach almost make you nauseous but you have to ignore your thoughts so you can focus on the remainder of the work day.
---
You are home for 30 minutes when Aaron finally enters your apartment. You're sitting on the bed, leaning up against the headboard with your knees tucked to your chest when you see Aaron’s broad shoulders lean against your door frame. You know you can’t keep up the facade any longer.
“Alright, Y/N. What's wrong? Something is clearly off with you. You’ve been distant all day today. If I did something wrong, please just tell me so I can fix it.”
The sincerity in his voice is almost too hard to handle. You can feel your eyes start to fill with tears but you don’t cry. You tilt your head down and stare at your fidgeting hands.
“It’s so bad, Aar.” As soon as those words left your mouth you knew that was the worst possible way to phrase the sentence.
Aaron immediately walks to the bed and sits cross-legged in front of you. The panic is evident in his eyes.
He grabs your wrists to move your arms up and begins touching along your stomach. His eyes are moving all over your body like a ball in a pinball machine.
He’s searching for an injury.
“What hurts Y/N? Let me see, please! I want to help fix it.” He’s so scared. You immediately feel guilty about how fast your words send him into panic mode but it's this caring nature that reassures you that Aaron loves you no matter what.
It's what finally gives you the strength to tell him how you feel.
“Nothing hurts, babe. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to phrase it that way.” His face slowly begins to soften.
“Then what is it? I know something is wrong.”
“My scars, Aar. They are so bad. They are way redder and puffier than I thought they’d be at this point.” Your eyes are focused on your bedspread. Quite obviously avoiding the gorgeous ones you can feel piercing into you. “My entire torso is hideous...I just don’t want you to see it.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” His hands come up to cup both of your cheeks.
You cut him off before he can continue. You need to tell him the whole truth.
“I know it’s dumb but I have this fucking voice in my head telling me that you are going to be bothered by them and less attracted to me. Which I wouldn’t blame you because I am already thinking the same thing about myself.”
“Please, Y/N. Please don’t ever think that I would ever find you unattractive for any reason. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I love everything there is about you and nothing could ever change that.” He says this reassuringly while placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
You can feel your anxiety slowly dissipate. “I know you do. I have just been so nervous thinking about you seeing them for the first time tonight. Plus, we’ve been talking about having sex so much once I got cleared and I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“Y/N.” He says with such conviction that you force yourself to look into his eyes. “I need you to know that we do not need to have sex tonight, tomorrow night or anytime soon.” His hands are now gently rubbing up and down your arms from your shoulders to elbows. “We will go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. And that will always be the case.” He pauses and lightly squeezes your arms. “Whether following an injury or not, okay.”
“I know, Aar. And you don’t know how appreciative I am of that and how happy I am to have someone as caring and supportive as you in my life.” You gently grab his face and place a tender kiss on his lips.
The love you feel for Aaron is all consuming. He has managed in a matter of minutes to dilute your anxiety to almost nothing. Now, all you feel is this intense rush of passion for the love of your life.
The kiss starts to develop into something much more needy. You both are fighting for dominance but you quickly relent and let his tongue invade your mouth. His large hands make their way to your hair where they lightly tug and pull.
Your hands are now on his shoulders pulling him on top of you while simultaneously working to unbutton his dress shirt.
You feel him hesitate and look down at you. “Y/N, are you sure?”. His eyes have never looked so intently at you.
“Yes, I am sure.”
That’s enough for him to abruptly continue kissing you. Your eyes are now closed as you lose yourself once again in an unforgettable kiss with Aaron Hotchner.
You are obsessed with how he tastes and you continue to feel yourself relax as you breathe in his pine scented cologne. The smell has and always will make you feel at home.
Aaron slowly removes your top and stops all of his movements which leads you to opening your own eyes.
You see him staring at your stomach which brings all of your insecurities to the forefront.
You feel yourself moving to cover your stomach when Aaron catches them and pushes each to the side.
“You are so beautiful Y/N. I can’t believe I get to have someone as beautiful, kind, intelligent, and courageous as you in my life. So please don’t ever try to hide yourself from me.”
The genuineness exuding from him is enough to melt all your anxieties. You know that you want him no matter what.
“Thank you, Aar. I love you so much and I don’t know what I did to deserve a man like you.”
“I love you too, sweet girl.”
His soft lips return to you. He slowly makes his way nipping and sucking at the skin from your neck to your breast. He begins to suck on your nipple while massaging the other with his large hand. His teeth graze over your nipple causing a ripple effect down your spine.
You love feeling his warm breath and wet tongue move across your already hard bud. Aaron tends to your other breast with his mouth before moving down your torso.
He begins to gently kiss each of your scars. You feel your stomach nervously tighten.
Aaron, as always, senses how your body briefly tenses.
“It’s okay, Love. I am right here with you. I want you to forget everything and everyone else but me.”
You feel your body relax. “I am okay, I promise. Please Aaron.” You beg with a quiet whimper. “I need you.”
His lips continue moving down to where you need him most as he removes your pants and thong. No matter your insecurities, you always seem to be needy for all things Aaron. So it's no surprise that you are already wet from only being kissed by him.
Aaron’s tongue moves further down so he can tease your clit. The action causes you to squirm beneath him. As much as you love his mouth on you and feeling him lick and suck on your clit, you need more.
“Aar, please…” you moan and arch your back off the bed.
“What do you want Y/N? Tell me and I will make it happen.” He responds while inserting two fingers into you.
He is curling his finger inside of you while continuing to suck on your clit. Your breathing has increased significantly along with your moans.
“Aaron…please. Please I need you inside of me.”
In an instant he grabs your legs and pulls you towards him. Once your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, he pulls his already hard cock out of his boxers and begins to line it up with your core. He teases your entrance with his tip before he finally thrusts into you.
He fills you so well as he thrusts in and out. You can feel yourself climb towards your release with every thrust.
“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good.” His pace quickens and becomes a little harder but he holds you like you are the most precious thing to walk the earth.
“I’m so close, Aar.”
“I know, baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”
That’s all you need to fall apart. Your body tenses before spasming uncontrollably. Your back is arched as Aaron continues to thrust into you to help ride out your high. It doesn’t take much longer for him to find his release as well.
You both try to ride out your highs as long as possible. The two of you are breathing heavily and a slight layer of sweat is now covering your bodies.
You gently begin dragging your nails up and down Aaron’s back as he is still laying on top of you. While still trying to come back to earth, he pulls out of you and rolls over to your side.
You miss the feeling of having him inside of you when he rolls over but the emptiness is quickly replaced as his arm is draped across your waist and is used to pull you to him. You are now laying more on him than the bed with your head nestled on his chest.
Aaron presses gentle kisses to the top of your head. “You okay, Y/N?”
“I’m perfect.” You are so at peace laying on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.
Aaron is rolling the ends of your hair between his fingers as you continue to cuddle into him. “Okay, good. Are you sure that wasn’t too much this time?”
“It was perfect. I promise I would tell you if I wasn’t okay.”
“Alright, I just want you to be happy and comfortable no matter what.”
“I know, Love and I love you so much for that. You always make me feel amazing, especially when it comes to sex.” You giggle as you sit up to place a gentle kiss on his nose.
“Well, I am glad you enjoy it because I owe you 52 more when you're ready.” A devilish smirk is now plastered on his face.
“52 what?” Your puzzled look causes him to laugh.
“Orgasms, pretty girl.”
“52 orgasms!” Your eyes damn near pop out of your skull.
“Oh yes, 52...and not one less.”
And in this moment, well...all you can think about is 52 perfect orgasms with Aaron.
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peachbear88 · 3 years
Text
All Because Of A Tennis Ball
A/N: Was inspired by me literally playing tennis. Because I'm cool.
--------------
In all her life of blood and gore, murdering and mourning, Yelena Belova had never been almost killed by a tennis ball.
"Heads. Heads! HEADS!" A voice screams and Yelena's vision goes black.
--------------
You throw the gate to the tennis court open, rushing over to the unconscious blonde woman on the park's path, inspecting her as her dog circles her happily.
"Oh god. Oh no. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead." You pray, kneeling beside her and placing your head on her chest, searching for a heart beat.
The gorgeous woman's dog sniffs her unconcernedly and proceeds to plant a massive wet kiss on her cheek.
Yelena's eyes flutter open but you don't notice, too immersed in your panic.
A pair of strong arms wrap around your neck, effectively trapping you in a headlock. You tap at her arms frantically, trying to signal for her to let go.
"Trying... To... Help." You choke out and she releases you. You gasp, grasping your throat and backpedaling from the mysterious woman.
"Apologies. I'm a bit paranoid." The thick Russian accent intertwined with her voice sends shivers down your spine.
"A-All good." You stutter, offering her your hand. "I'm Y/N."
She stares at your hand for a good moment and you feel a little self-conscious, ready to retract your hand and get back to your tennis match when she grabs it firmly, shaking it.
"Yelena." The dog barks impatiently, tugging on her leash. "And this is Fanny."
You coo at the dog, getting on one knee and running your hands through her thick fur before returning your attention to the Russian beauty.
"I am so sorry about the tennis ball. I've been playing for a while but I'm as trash as the day I started." You keep rambling, gesticulating wildly with your hands as you speak. "-I mean, I've never hit anyone before so that's a first."
She gives you what she hopes is a reassuring smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. You sigh.
"Sorry about my rambling. I tend to do that when I'm nervous. 'Cuz I get nervous when I talk to pretty-" Yelena arches an eyebrow. "-Scary people."
"You think I'm scary?" Your eyes widen as you wave your hands frantically.
"No no no! I think you're beautiful, not sca-" You slap a hand over your mouth. Yelena lets out a hoarse giggle at your frazzled state.
"It's alright. I appreciate the compliment." She shuffles her feet. "Well, I should let you get back to your fri-"
"Can I have your number?" You blurt out and she stares at you. "Sorry." She smiles, shaking her head and fishing in her bag.
"Sure." Scribbling the number on the scrap piece of paper, she hands it to you before tugging on Fanny's leash and taking off at a light pace. "See you around."
You gape at the piece of paper in your hand, her neat scrawl screaming at you. A tennis ball thwacks you in the back of the head and you wince.
"What the fuck Y/BF/N?" They shrug, and you sigh, stuffing the paper into your pocket and running back to the court.
---------------
"Love?"
Yelena's eyes flutter open but she doesn't turn around, letting out a grunt of acknowledgement and settling further into your arms.
"Do you want to play tennis with me tomorrow?"
"Absolutely not." She deadpans and you burst into laughter, pulling her closer to you.
"Why not? You scared that I'll hit you with another tennis ball?"
"No!" She exclaims defiantly, crossing her arms into an adorable pout. "I'll go with you tomorrow."
You smile, leaning over her and depositing a light peck on her cheek.
"Thank you love."
"Shut up.
----------------
"You know how to play right?"
"Do you know how to play?" She bites back and you recoil on the other side of the net.
"Feisty. What's got your panties in a twist?" You taunt and she mutters something about not wanting a concussion. As she walks to her side of the court, you discreetly flash a look at Y/BF/N, who shows you the special tennis ball.
"Are you going to start or should I go back inside?" You chuckle to yourself.
"Alright, calm down."
You drop a ball, doing a gentle forehand feed to her.
Surprisingly, she really does know how to play tennis. She sends you diving for the farthest corners of the court, leaving you breathless and sweaty. After a few turns with the normal balls, Y/BF/N tosses you the special ball and you feed it to Yelena. It splits open the moment it bounces on her side and Yelena dives away, bringing her arms around her head.
"Relax James Bond, it's not a bomb." You make your way over to her but she tackles you, covering you protectively.
"No!" You wait for a few moments and she slowly uncurls from around you, tentatively poking the ball with her foot. You stifle a giggle at the sight. She picks up the ball confusedly, pulling a black box from the clearly doctored ball. "Wha-" You grab the box from her, kneeling on one knee.
"Yelena Belova. Where do I start?" She stares at you and you gulp. "The love of my life. You are the light of my life. Without you, life is like the seasons with no summer, or a beat that you can't follow. The moment you tried to strangle me, I knew. I knew that I would never be able to love anyone but you. My heart, soul and mind will always belong to you." You snapped the box open revealing a simple silver band with small emeralds embedded in it. Her mouth hung open, unable to register the turn of events. "So will you, make me the happiest person in this crazy world and marry me?"
A few moments pass and she's still gaping at you. You don't get up, watching her carefully.
"I think you broke her." Y/BF/N whispers to you and you open your mouth to respond but Yelena swats them away, jumping onto you and effectively pushing you to the ground.
"Thank you." She sniffs and you feel something wet trailing down your neck.
"Is that a yes?"
"Yes. Yes, you idiot." Y/BF/N cheers and you smile, caressing Yelena's golden locks as she clings to you.
"Y/N Belova has a nice ring to it doesn't it?"
---------------
Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch@ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain112
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obiwanobi · 4 years
Text
I blame @quiet-oracle and @theevildevices for this, because I couldn’t resist the urge to write 2k of hurt/comfort for the ‘Jedi but enemies’ AU, where Qui-Gon trained Anakin, and now him and Obi-Wan are well-known for despising each other but working exceptionally well together when they’re not lost in ridiculous banters and petty arguments to hide the fact that they’ll be lost without each other;
Obi-Wan winces.
Skywalker’s hand immediately withdraws. “Does it bother you when I—”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“The answer is still the same.” 
Skywalker’s sigh is heavier than the entire Republic navy.
His mouth is too close to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and he shivers as a result. But it’s only because the cold of the never-ending rain outside still lingers on their clothes and in their bones, even under the tent and close to the portable heater that a clone is still trying to adjust. And also because he’s been sitting there bare-chested for the past five minutes, with Skywalker’s clumsy fingers poking at his hip and ribs, probably way harder than necessary, just to see him suffer. 
“I can apply a bacta patch myself, you can go n—”
“Would you please shut up? We both know a bacta patch wouldn’t be enough.” 
Only the sound of a packet of antiseptic wipes being opened, gauze being stretched and the clone pushing buttons with no effect can be heard for a moment. 
 “I don’t think you’ve ever said ‘please’ to me before,” Obi-Wan notes lightly, then grimaces when Skywalker starts pulling on the cloth pressed to his side.
“Don’t get used to it. But if it’s the only way to make you stop being so difficult and contradictory all the time, I will gladly say it more.”
Instead of looking at his own wound —the pain in his hip is enough, thank you, he doesn't need to see the extent of the damages— Obi-Wan glances at Skywalker. Gaze focused and mouth in a thin line, there’s only concentration written on his face. 
No one could guess that only half an hour ago, on the battlefield, panic and terror were the only two emotions Skywalker was projecting loud enough in the Force to bring Obi-Wan out of unconsciousness.
Unbelievable, Obi-Wan has thought once he was aware enough to realise that it was Skywalker's hands on his face and Skywalker’s voice in his ear, begging him to come back. He would find a way to be annoying enough to drag me out of a coma if he could. 
Surprisingly, the thought has felt like a comfort. 
The clone working on the heater stands up suddenly. Obi-Wan almost forgot about him. He nods his head towards them, and goes out of the tent at the exact same moment Hyoid enters.
At the sight of the clone, all modicum of appreciation for Skywalker evaporate. 
“You called a medic?” Obi-Wan scowls, with the tone of someone who has just been the victim of a vicious mutiny. 
“Of course I called a medic. Half of your tunic is covered in your own blood and you were knocked out for a while earlier, what do you think I was going to do? Tell you to go back out there and watch you slowly bleed to death?”
“Generals,” the medic calls. In vain.
“You would enjoy that,” Obi-Wan grumbles.  
“Well, yes, but then the Council will ask me why I let you die just a few meters away from a first aid kit, and then I’ll have to explain that I gently push it away from your weak hands every time you reached for it, and how will I look, then?”
“Like someone who could have let me die on the battlefield and get away with it, but decided instead to choose the most idiotic and time-consuming option available, and I would have enjoyed that very much.” 
“Generals.” 
“Exactly,” Skywalker nods, “and I can’t let you enjoy things.”
“I know. Don’t think I never realised who was flushing the toilets every time I was in the shower when the hot water came back two days ago.”
“You were so cheerful,” Skywalker says, as if the mere thought disgusts him. “I took that as a personal affront.”
“Sirs, please,” Hyoid implores louder. Both Jedi turn towards him, almost surprised to see him there. “I’m just here to see General Kenobi’s injury, I’m sure you can continue your conversation right after. Sirs. Please.” 
It takes them a second to realise that they’re sitting so close together that Obi-Wan’s hand has settled on Skywalker’s knee when they weren’t paying attention, while Skywalker’s fingers are still maintaining Obi-Wan’s pants low on his hip so it won’t come in contact with the long gash on his side. The intimacy of the scene isn’t completely lost on Skywalker, it seems, because he rushes to take his hands away and stands next to his chair, suddenly too self-conscious to know what to do with himself. 
“I’m very sorry about him,” Obi-Wan apologises, as the medic takes Skywalker’s seat and starts assessing the mess Skywalker undoubtedly made of his hip and ribs. “He’s a rescue. He still has no idea how to behave appropriately in polite society.”
An outraged noise comes from Skywalker behind him, and despite the throbbing pain, Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up. A hiss replaces his smile rapidly enough when Hyoid applies a spray and starts cleaning what Skywalker missed, before pressing stingy patches on the wound. 
The medic is wise enough not to reply to him, but it doesn’t stop him from making a comment or two about how ‘this isn’t superficial sir, you should be more careful from now on,’ or ‘you’ll have to change the bandages, and I’ll get some pills for you to take’ and ‘ok, now let’s see your head, sir, don’t think General Skywalker didn’t mention it’.
His head is, indeed, becoming heavier by the minute, and he can feel himself growing too tired to care enough to listen carefully after that. Once he gives up answering questions and lets Skywalker do it for him, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to concentrate to feel him poking obnoxiously at him in the Force, testing the limits of his consciousness. It reminds him a bit of when Skywalker was a child, tugging on his robe every two minutes to make sure he was paying attention to him.
No wonder Obi-Wan always tried to avoid him.  
“All right,” the medic finally says, pulling him out of his reverie. He stands up, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll get you your pills, and then you should rest.”
Rest sounds amazing. Obi-Wan would kill Skywalker for a good mattress and a soft pillow right now. But it doesn’t mean anything; he would probably kill Skywalker for two minutes of peace on the best of days. 
The sudden silence that falls under the tent once Hyoid is gone seems almost unnatural. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside unsettles him so much, until he realises that it’s the first time since the battlefield that he’s alone with Skywalker. 
“Are you going to keep sulking behind me?” Obi-Wan asks, finding his robe discarded on the floor and wondering if it’s worth leaning down to get it. No reply comes. “Well, you heard the medic. You can go now. I, unfortunately for you, will still live to see another...” he trails off as two arms slide over his shoulders from behind, wrapping around his neck and resting there. 
Skywalker is warm against him.
For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he’s finally going to strangle him, but a golden head falls on his shoulder gently, face hidden by a cascade of curls, tickling Obi-Wan's neck and collarbone. 
“Skyw—”
“Don’t be an insufferable asshole for a minute,” Skywalker mumbles, breath hot against his bare skin. “Just let me have this.” 
Ah. It’s one of those moments, then. 
He thought they were done with that for the day after what happened on the battlefield. Earlier.
With Skywalker’s face looming over him. Eyes so wide and so blue. One hand pressed against the wound in his side to stop the bleeding, one hand twisted in Obi-Wan’s tunic, right above his heart. 
Being the one injured and barely conscious, but also being the one calming Skywalker down. Managing to get him to release his death-grip on him. Assuring him that he wasn’t going to die.
Promising it. 
Twice.
Soothing the Hero with No Fear as he would soothe a lost and abandoned child.
“I told you already,” Obi-Wan says quietly. It feels wrong to speak louder when he knows they won’t look at each other for some time after that. “It’s all right. I’m fine now. It’s over.”
The arms around him tighten, mirroring the weight of Skywalker’s presence in the Force around Obi-Wan. 
“I thought you’d left me,” Skywalker says accusingly, sounding remarkably like his nine-year-old self. “I thought you’d left me behind again.”
Obi-Wan closes his eyes, as if not seeing it would erase the fact he’s indulging his instinct to nuzzle his face against Skywalker’s hair. He smells like the rain, muddy but fresh, and feels like lingering distress in the Force. It’s far from pleasant to remain close to such an unbalanced mind, and their position isn’t comfortable either. But Obi-Wan doesn’t shiver from the cold anymore. So they don’t move.
They’ve earned that second of weakness.
Obi-Wan’s hand comes up to scratch at Skywalker’s head gently, fingers tangling with unruly locks of hair. Slowly, his muscles relax and he leans into the touch, chest slumped against Obi-Wan’s back. Skywalker’s face turns towards his throat, nestled under his jaw, before exhaling, deep and warm. In the Force, Skywalker’s signature curls against Obi-Wan’s and quiets down to a low satisfied rumble, dragged away from dread and terror one caress at a time.
Obi-Wan’s mind is suddenly way too tired to be bothered by the tenderness of it all.
“I’m here now, with you,” he whispers in his hair. “That’s all that matters.”
It’s a quiet apology that Skywalker accepts with a satisfied humming noise that resonates in Obi-Wan’s whole body.
It feels a bit like an apology for more. For everything. For all the times he avoided and pushed him away as a child. For condemning him for reasons he didn’t want to admit to himself. For wanting to blame him, for taking his master away, for being such a better padawan than he was, for rubbing it in his face.
For wanting to be his friend, always. 
Obi-Wan has been wrong for so long.
When the medic comes back, Skywalker is kneeling in front of the heater, cursing it quietly, and Obi-Wan is adjusting his robe around his shoulders with slow movements. 
“All right, sir, this is what you’ll have to take before every meal,” Hyoid says, showing him a small bottle, before putting a white box on the table. “And these are the bandages and the bacta to change every day. I would advise you not to do it yourself, and if you don’t have anyone to—“
“I’ll do it,” Skywalker declares without looking up, and Obi-Wan immediately narrows his eyes.
“You? I can’t even trust you with my toothpaste tube, what makes you think—“
“I don’t care what you say Kenobi, there is no wrong way to squeeze toothpaste!”
“There is, and you do it on purpose. What kind of savage would squeeze it right in the middle—”
Skywalker suddenly turns towards Hyoid, talking over him. “How many pills would it take to be considered a lethal dose, do you think?” 
It is, of course, the one comment that ignites a virulent and pointless argument that makes the poor medic reconsider all his life choices and wonder if chloroforming Jedi generals would get him court-martialed.
After seven minutes of a loud and dramatic dispute ending with Skywalker promising to never take part in anything related to Kenobi anymore, except maybe his funeral, Hyoid decides to risk it.
525 notes · View notes
shinkun · 4 years
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bloom: part 1/2 (18+)
aizawa shouta | eraserhead x student!reader
[ read part 2 here ] 
word count: 3.4k
genre: alpha/omega, omegaverse, m/f, afab reader, student/teacher, smut with little plot
A late-blooming student finds herself trapped in the school, yearning for someone to ease her unfamiliar, painful urges.
warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, cunnilingus 
notes: Hello, just as a warning, this is my first time in many years posting any written work so I'm pretty rusty and self-conscious about it (please be gentle!) Also - my first time doing any form of a/b/o, so I hope it's okay! 
Aizawa just released something feral in me that made me want to write a lengthy, lusty fiction about him.
This is Part 1 of 2 of this fiction. I wanted to see if there was any reception or interest in this piece before sharing the final part.
All characters are 18+. Reader is a mature student presumably finishing her final semester of school, or attending an extra year.
Anyway, please enjoy!
- - - - -
Aizawa gave a hefty groan, pinching the skin on the bridge of his nose. A nagging stress entered the back of his mind as he proceeded to the opposite side of the door. 
When your classmate had cornered him in his office earlier, wailing about how “Y/N doesn’t want to come out! She said she feels too sick to go to practice!” He already knew what he was in for. 
“Alright, I’ll go see what's wrong…” Aizawa nonchalantly replied, waving the boy away. “Go outside and start without her.” He commanded, not letting him get another word in. The student gave a compliant but nervous nod before exiting the room. 
The professor let out a sigh, perking his ear up to the door. He hesitantly raised his knuckles up to the surface, knocking on it with little force, but enough that it could be heard from the other side. He held his breath for a moment. A sweet, tantalizing scent crept from beneath the barrier between him and his student. 
“Don’t come in!!” Shouted a voice laced with panic in reply to the knock. 
“Don’t worry, it’s me.” Aizawa said, lowering his palm to the handle of the locker room. He didn’t need to speak his name for you to know. He was patient, letting you bask in the silence for a moment. The scent emitting from the room made a couple beads of sweat roll down the back of his neck, but he was able to shake it off. 
“I can’t let you.. see me like this…” Your tone was shaky and barely audible, but he’d caught it. 
“I can help you.” He persisted to push the handle downward. 
The bond you’d grown with your teacher in your three years at UA was strong and trusting. You knew that any advice he was willing to offer you would be right. He was always right. You were happy to have a mentor so willing to sacrifice his time and listen to you when you needed it, and this was no exception. 
Aizawa delicately pushed the door open, only an inch into it before the odor was able to escape, already knocking him back; angelic, rosey scents filling his nostrils. Saliva pooled underneath the back of his tongue as he took the fragrance in. He shut his eyes and let out another soft huff before propping the door open with one foot. He could sense your panic rising as he shuffled forward. 
“...I promise you’ll be okay.” He assured you, his hand curling around the frame. He continued to stay cautious and non-threatening, making sure you had enough time to prepare for his entry. 
“I don’t want you to see me so..” you hesitated, attempting to stiffen a cry building up in your throat, “..weak.” The word rolled off your tongue like it was filth. 
Aizawa entered the room, seemingly unphased by the aura of hormones that was now engulfing him. He gently let the door slide closed behind him, carefully locking it for any students that dared to interrupt them. A small but caring smirk graced his face as he looked before him. 
He saw you curled up in the back corner of the changeroom, sitting on a bench with your knees tucked into your chest. You held the bunched up top to your gym uniform, hugging it to the flushed skin of your torso for safety, your chest covered only by a tightly binding sports bra. You sunk your head down, trying not to make eye contact with the teacher as he proceeded forward. He gingerly perched himself on the bench next to you, leaving a comfortable amount of space, before bending forward to look at you.
“Hey..” His hair curtained around his face as he leaned forward, softly cupping the opposite side of your face in his hand.  He pulled your head over to look at him. The unexpected touch made you squirm, squeezing your eyes closed, but you refused to fight his caress. “You’re the strongest person I know.” His thumb massaged your cheek up and down. Your bottom lip quivered, still attempting to fight the surge of emotions that were coursing through you as you finally met his gaze. Your eyes brimming with tears, making your vision blurry, as you continued to choke them back. It was simple, but his words meant a lot. 
You and him both knew that you had a complicated relationship with your femininity. You saw it as a burden, getting in the way from people taking you seriously. You blocked it out in any way you could, to reflect a more intimidating, headstrong persona. Focusing on close-combat studies and fighting techniques, convincing the staff to let you wear the boy’s uniform, attending all the extra curricular sporting events - the reason you were even here on a weekend to begin with. It wasn’t just a means of coming off as adrogynous though, you genuinely enjoyed these things. 
“How can I be strong if I’m...” You looked away, afraid that admitting you were an Omega out loud would somehow make it worse. You didn’t want to come to terms with it. 
“...C’mere kid.” He removed his hand from your face while straightening up, leaning his back against the wall behind him. His arm raised, placing it on your shoulder to pull you into his chest for a gentle embrace. 
You’d been close to Aizawa before, but never anything like this. Playful jabs here and there, sarcastic shoves in the hallway, there was even that time he had to step in to use his binding cloth to stop you from beating on some punk that made fun of your quirk - but this tender feeling he was sharing was a whole new territory. 
You took it in, allowing some of the pent up tears to escape from your eyes. A quiet sob forced itself out of your throat, your body vibrating with each cry. Aizawa rubbed your back, slowly, carefully, letting you bask in the feelings. The fear that you had reverberated throughout the room was beginning to subside, and he could tell. You laid against the man in silence for a moment, the heavy thumping of his heart lulling your anxieties. You breathed in gradually, putting your sniveling to rest, but as you did, you noticed something off. 
A flush of red emanated from your face as your nose raised slightly gravitating toward Aizawa’s head. A waft of strong musk filled your senses. It was savory, and heavy, and…“Hnghh.”  A breathy sigh escaped your mouth as your hand gripped the fabric of the teacher’s shirt. You had little control over your next movement, stretching forward to nuzzle your face against his neck, taking in as much of the aroma as you could. Now that you’d let your defenses down, Aizawa's dominant atmosphere was beginning to encapsulate you. 
“Whoa there.” He let out a chuckle but continued to let you explore, eventually expecting this kind of reaction to his presence. He gracefully shifted his hand, placing it above your hip, both to keep you stable as you moved, and to give him the pleasure of being able to embrace the smooth, supple flesh. 
“I’m...sorry..” You said, beginning to retreat from him as the realisation of what you were doing began to sink in. “Oh, oh no.. I’m sorry..!” Your heart fluttered as you pulled back to your safe spot on the bench. 
He gave his head a shake and continued to give you your space. “No need to be sorry.” He assured you, scratching the back of his head. His voice was tender and dreamy to your ears, it sent goosebumps down your arms. Suddenly sitting in a lecture just to listen to your teacher’s dark, gritty voice rant about hero politics sounded appealing. Admittedly this brief embrace made the resistance to act on his urges much harder than before, but he persisted. 
Suddenly you let out an aching gasp. You pulled your body toward yourself, your arm reaching around your abdomen as you felt that intense pressure building up inside your gut again, tinges of pain and aching threatening your core. You’d felt this earlier when you had the room to yourself. It made you hot, your breath beginning to pick up as your body reeled in a feverish sweat. You didn’t want him to see you like this and now that your guard was down, it was taking control. 
“Hurt…. it hu..rts..” You managed to spit out. Shouta cocked his head to the side.
“Is this your first time..?” He planted his hand on your back once more, making sure you knew his company was welcoming. All you could do was let out a quick nod. You squeezed your legs together, feeling an intense heat present itself in your center, your gasps becoming more hefty and impossible to contain. 
“Wow, a late bloomer.” Aizawa strategically pondered for a moment, “Well, I should go inform Recovery Girl of how you’r-” 
“..No!” You cut him off before he could finish, a tremble in your voice. “Please, can you...” Embarrassment took over causing your speech to trail off, your arm shakely reaching out and clenching around the sleeve beside his hand. Your desires were continuing to take hold and Aizawa’s scent was becoming more and more irresistible as time went on, “..can you help me?”
The edge of his mouth curled up into a smile, disguising itself behind his shield of dark locks. Just as he’d expected. 
Now, this wasn’t his first time dealing with a student in heat. Although the population of Omegas was on the lower side, there had been a few students in his years of teaching that had to get medicated and sent home for a few days to deal with their inflamed, unpredictable hormones. And professors, especially Alpha professors, were instructed on the responsibility of containing those natural urges and how to offer students help when they were in their most vulnerable state. 
He did genuinely want to help. Seeing your pleas to get rid of this nasty heat made his heart ache and he didn’t want to deny you the option for any outside aid, but he knew you would place trust in him and he was willing to offer it. 
Without answering Aizawa leaned forward. He curled his other hand up behind your head, letting his fingers trail through your hair to embrace your scalp. Immediately a shiver fell down your spine as he bent over you; first planting a kiss on your forehead, then he trailed downward, peppering a couple kisses on your tear-stained cheek. The weight of your head cradled into his hand as he continued, his mouth trailing down the length of your neck, his tongue messaging down the length of your skin. Your breathing increased as you let out a cute whimper, your core pulsated. He then paused just above your shoulder, letting in a deep inhale. Your scent was enchanting, sweet, and made his head spin. He dared to let his teeth graze that special spot, smirked, and then placed one final peck there before abruptly pushing his mouth against yours. You immediately felt a rush of heat rise into your stomach as his lips collided with yours. They were so soft and experienced, but juxtaposed by the rough facial hair that scraped against your chin. 
Even though it was you who’d requested it, you were having a tough time wrapping your head around the order of events that lead you here. Finding it difficult to reciprocate the kiss, he began to ease his tongue inside your mouth. Your eyebrows raised, but eyes remaining sealed shut as the twitching muscle explored your mouth, the roughness of his flesh against yours causing you to feel slick drip between your thighs. 
You pulled your mouth away releasing an overwhelmed heave, a string of saliva still leaving you connected to the man. 
His eyes furrowed, a worrying expression plastered his face making sure you were okay. 
“..I forgot to...breathe.” A rosy tint burned your cheeks before you both let out a small chuckle that eased the tension. He then placed his forehead against yours.
“Keep going..?” At this point he was probably too far gone but he thought he’d at least give you the false sense of reassurance. 
Despite the flustering heat that Aizawa stirred into you from his kisses, the pain in your curve was urging on to the point of becoming unbearable. Your hands trembled but quickly grabbed his chest to pull him back into the embrace. He took this as a ‘yes’ and fell back into the deep kiss, proceeding to cup his hand around your left breast. He kneaded the bosom in his hand before trailing his mouth down your neck once again, this time pulling and suckling at the skin, leaving playful little bites - but not enough to bruise. His hands trailed down to the edge of your bra. You bit down on your lip as he yanked it upward and over your head. 
A nearly inaudible “Wow..” escaped from his mouth as he leaned back to take your figure in, not sure if it was meant for your ears to hear. Your defenseless upper half was paler than usual and coated with a perspiring sheen due to your sickly urges.
“Don’t stare..” You grumbled, refusing to meet his eyes as his hand regained its place against your chest. He was shocked you were able to contain them within the bounds of a thin fabriced sports bra all the time, let alone while they were aching and swelling from your heat. You did a very good job of keeping it that way. 
He smirked once more before lowering his head, taking the erect pink bud between his lips, lapping his tongue over it again and again. You shuddered as he sucked it into his mouth, his opposite hand fondling the other. But no matter how much he kissed and caressed your shivering body, it wasn’t satisfying the heavy hunger sweltering in the pits of your core. “Please..” You whined above his head, frustratingly clenching your fingers into your palms, “Mister Aizawa, please...I can’t wait anymore.” 
Aizawa pulled his mouth away, nuzzling his face between your chest for just a moment before raising back up. 
“Soon.” He simply but firmly stated, pulling his binding cloth above his head and tossing it to the floor, making sure it wouldn’t get in the way. 
He then bent down, wrapping his arm around the calves of your legs and pulling them onto the wide bench. He moved his own leg over the opposite side of the bench so that it was now in between him. 
“Now,”  he looked as you impatiently quivered, trailing his intense stare down your body, “What’s the damage?” You let out an offended huff at his wording, but held your complaints in. You figured any sort of noncompliance would lead you to a one-way trip to the medic. 
Shouta really didn’t need to ask, but your fluster enticed him even more. The bottoms of your navy gym uniform had a dark patch stained through them long before the moment he’d entered, by this point it had traveled down your legs. 
“Looks like we’re gonna have to find you another pair of those, huh?” He reached forward tracing his hands around the edges of the waistband before pulling the sweats down. You shifted as it tickled your sides. He then tossed them to the floor alongside his equipment. 
Your hands reached up to cover your face as his gaze pierced through you. No matter how desperate you were to get some relief, you still couldn’t get past the vulnerability of being sprawled out in front of him like this, let alone, someone actually known for having a deeply intimidating stare. 
He tenderly pulled one of your hands away, taking it in his own. This was the first time you’d really noticed how big his were in comparison, cupping around your delicate digits. He closed his eyes, leaving a few tender kisses inside your palm before deeply inhaling the aroma radiating from your wrist. He let it go and looked back, his palms now resting on your thighs, pushing them apart with a surprising amount of ease. You aligned yourself on the bench, propping your back against the wall. 
Aizawa bowed over your lower half, leaning into the heat pulsating between your legs. He hadn’t even touched you before your heart began to race, your breath trailing close behind. Your anticipation for him made his heart melt but he couldn’t resist dragging this out for as long as he could. He wanted to make your first heat special for you - memorable - even. 
It wasn’t long before Aizawa’s mouth was trailing up the length of your leg. The closer he got, the more unbearably hard it was to not just let his primal instincts take over and ravage your pretty, little entrance with his aching cock. No, Aizawa. He cursed at himself for even thinking that. 
Shouta’s tongue danced up your thigh before hitting the edge of your drenched panties. He left soft little nips with his teeth in your thigh, leaving you breathless, before kissing the fabric. He nudged his nose against the surface of it, prodding your sensitive core before letting his tongue fall down its length, intentionally heaving his hot, eager breath against you. You let out a loud gasp that left you clutching your mouth. He smiled once more before taking the edges of the fabric between his fingers and pulling them down, finally revealing your throbbing, leaking pussy. 
“Oh, sweetheart…” He sighed into you, sharing a few more kisses before sliding his tongue through those tender, pink folds. You cocked your head back gently scooching your hips towards him, your humiliation suddenly masked by your intense lust for the man. 
Aizawa took in all the senses surrounding him. The delightful squeaks you made as he trailed his muscle along your slit, the delicious distinctly omega flavours that drenched his mouth, the way you convulsed and your knees buckled every time he slid his lips or nose against your sensitive, budding clit. He then pulled your legs over his shoulders, giving him more leverage to dive into you.
You reached your hand out as your gasps deepened, he looked up from you inquisitively before reaching his out in return. You laced your fingers between his, yearning for that simple grasp. You held on to it as a form of security, giving soft squeezes to the man every time it was too intense, or a loving stroke of your thumb against his skin when it was just right. 
He narrowed his focus back on you, slowly bringing his other hand to your slit. While his tongue massaged your pulsating pearl, he sank two fingers deep inside your entrance. Unsurprisingly your hole was ready and more than willing to accept them. The amount of slick you’d produced was evident enough. You bit down on your lip and let out a whimper as he now began pumping you with his fingers alongside his mouth, your natural lubricant gliding down his hand.
Earlier you’d tried doing the same, attempting to satisfy your intense craving with masturbation alone, but it was never enough. Nothing felt like enough. But Aizawa’s fingers reached parts that you couldn’t, curling and prodding that sensitive area, hiding toward your stomach.
“God..” Your eyes rolled back as you bucked yourself against him, but you still yearned for more. “S...Sensei..” He could see you getting close, your little hand clenching in his own as he rhythmically persisted, your breaths more shaky and sporadic. “Shou..ta..!!” He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, his cock twitching against his leg from the sound of it. He pulled his hand back and plunged his long fingers even harder and more vigorously, this time including a third. You let out a little shriek while he basically drowned amongst your tiny folds, his fingers driving into you at a steady cadence. He felt as your plush, sensitive walls tightened around his dexterous touch, quivering as you climaxed before him.  
You gulped hard trying to let your mind catch up to your body, releasing a steady pant. 
“That was great, kitten.” He gave your thigh one last kiss before raising up. “...You did so well.”
2K notes · View notes
caiuscassiuss · 4 years
Text
oppa! | ot7 (I)
Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. This is not what you meant by family.
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Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions
Genre: OT7 x Female!Reader | Brother’s Conflict AU | stepbrother au | fluff | slice of life (For this chapter: PG 13) WC: 15k Warnings: swearing, dub-con (??). In later chapters there will be explicit mentions of depression, panic attacks, thoughts of suicide, self harm, and graphic smut.
Chapter 1: Enter the Oldest Type, Jin!
Fiddling with the charm on your phone, you looked down at the blue text bubble that spelled out the address of what might possibly be your home for the next few years.
You had googled the place as soon as you got home, expecting it to be a random apartment somewhere and boy oh boy, you were wrong. First, the house (not apartment) was on the outskirts of Seoul, on one of the hilly inclines overlooking the Han River. Second, the place where it was located was expensive.
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw the housing prices of properties nearby on this popular real estate app. Sure, your father was a celebrity adventurer with his own cable show and so you were used to a certain amount of comfort, but this type of wealth was way beyond your league. Who was this woman that your father married, Jesus Christ?
On the Google streets view (you swear you aren’t weird), you saw the place had at least 2 gates to get through and your father hadn’t told you of any code or given you any pass to get through. You had a feeling if you tried to go in there blind, you would be immediately detained by the police.
Biting your lip, you paced on the fluffy carpet that felt like a dream. Your father was gallivanting off in some remote corner of Nigeria, so he was bound to have no cell service there. You knew no one in the family— much less how to contact them so you could meet up for a coffee or something. It would seem rude not to do something…
Your apartment doorbell buzzed throughout your apartment. Folding your arms over your chest, you shivered as you walked towards the doorway. You had turned up the Air Conditioner too high to ward off the muggy Seoul heat and now it was freezing inside your apartment.
“Hello?” you asked in to the intercom.
“Hi, is this Y/N?” a masculine voice asked at the other end.
You frowned and shifted your weight on your other leg. You don’t recall expecting any guests today.
“Excuse me?” the man asked again after you refused to respond.
“Hi, sorry, who is calling?” you said politely.
“I’m Seokjin, Seoyeon’s son. I’m your, uh, new brother?” he said haltingly, his voice raised at the end.
Gasping softly, you felt your mind pile up with questions and questions until it was spinning. How did he get here? How did you know who you are?
“Oh! Uh, yeah, please come on up.”
You pressed the button to allow the elevator to go to your location and you heard a bright “Thank you!” before the intercom shut off.
You zoomed around your apartment like a psychopath, picking up spare pieces of clothing and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Your apartment reeked of mild depression, suppressed anxiety, and the beginnings of an unhealthy reliance on take out and that was not the first impression you wanted your newfound brother to have of you.
Putting your hands on your hips, you scanned the now clean apartment. It looked like a moderately adjusted human lived here.
Good timing indeed, as your buzzer sharply rang throughout the apartment. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the door handle and pulled it open.
Your lungs really said “Bye, sister!” and decided to quit working as soon as you saw this man. You couldn’t breath because standing in front of you was one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in your life.
He was tall, taking up the entire doorway with his height. A dash of neatly groomed, brown hair graced the top of his small head and big eyes peered at you curiously above a strong nose and a pair of big, pouty lips the color of strawberries.
The second thing you noticed about him after his overwhelming beauty was his navy scrubs and the large badge attached to his pocket that read “Kim Seokjin; Pediatric Doctor at Seoul National University Pediatric Group”. You’ve seen people in scrubs and they were, favorably said, unflattering but on this man… he looked like he stepped out of a catalogue.
“You’re Y/N, right?”
Speechless, you nodded.
His entire face lit up with a grin. “Oh, that’s a relief. It’s fantastic to meet you, I’m Kim Seokjin. You can call me Jin though.”
Your voice decided to be nice and start working. You held out a hand and he reciprocated with a handshake. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you. Please, do come in.”
He took off his sturdy shoes politely at the doorway and you retreated further into the hallway of your apartment.
You shivered again through your thin top and crossed your arms. God, you were going to have to raise the temperature. It felt like a fridge in here.
Jin turned around with a smile on his face before his eyes went wide. His eyes flickered down your body and quickly flickered back up to your face.
“I’m sorry if this is a bit sudden,” he started, red climbing up his neck and rising up to his cheeks. “I—” His eyes flicked down again before staying resolutely at your face, despite his very red cheeks.
Did you have a stain on your pants or something? You cast your eyes down at yourself and—
Oh.
Your very regrettable decision of turning your A/C up resulted in stiff nipples poking out from your thin top. To make matters worse, your crossed arms emphasized your breasts.
You felt yourself going red as an unflattering squeak left your mouth. Pulling a cardigan from behind the couch (there goes your good first impression), you quickly threaded your arms through the sleeves and covered your chest.
“I am so sorry—”
“It’s alright!” he said, his voice unwieldy. Jin’s eyes widened again as he realized the meaning of his words. “No! I mean— ugh,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.
You giggled as you saw his mature composure crack in front of you. 
“I must seem like a pervert,” Jin groaned. “Here I was, hoping to come off as a cool older brother, and I just,” he shook his head. “Forgive me.”
The awkwardness defused, you laughed again, ultra conscious of your chest. “Please don’t worry about it! I had hoped to make a good first impression as well but look at me! Pulling clothing out of furniture.”
He snorted and you both started laughing, filling up your once silent apartment with sound. 
As the laughter died down, you offered him a seat on your couch. He gladly took the invitation, throwing in a joke about being on his feet all day.
“Yeah, I’m sorry to barge in all of the sudden. I didn’t have your contact information— only your address and I realized that you had no way to get to our house. So, here I am,” he grinned, eyes forming cute half crescents.
“I actually have to thank you for it,” you said, setting down a glass of water in front of him. “I was thinking of going to your house myself but I saw the security around it and I knew I’d probably get detained or something.”
“Well, it’s good that it all lined up so well,” Jin commented. “I better introduce myself, don’t I? I’m just a pediatric doctor with the SNU pediatric group and 26— the oldest of all of us. I was born in Gwacheon and moved to Seoul to attend university.”
You smiled softly, despite your unease at his use of the word “just”. “A pediatric doctor? That’s very nice. What made you want to be a doctor?”
Jin’s smile grew strained and you saw his broad shoulders tense up. 
Feeling like you wanted to hit yourself over the head, you threw out your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to—”
He shook his head. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s a common question. I chose this specific profession over the OR or surgery because, as a child, I knew someone who was injured a lot and I couldn’t help them at all.” He grimaced, but pasted on a very good smile. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, his head tilted upwards, but you could see through it. “Now I can, yeah?”
“I get what you mean,” you said sympathetically. You were often sick as a child too, and it was… difficult, when your father was off scampering across half the world. 
Jin straightened up in his seat and lost that faraway look in his eyes, zeroing in on you. “What about you, Y/N? You’re college-age, yeah?”
“Yes, I’m 21 and attend Yonsei University as a junior. Although it’s not as exciting as wanting to be a doctor, I want to be a counselor one day,” you told him, your eyes cast down “I want to help people.”
“That’s really admirable, Y/N. If you ever need any help getting an internship or opportunity, I know some counselors and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a meeting,” Jin smiled warmly at you.
A blush infused your cheeks. “I, ah, thank you. I actually work as an operator on Crisis hotline right now, but I’ll definitely need all the help I can get.”
“Of course! You’re my cute younger sister now.”
“I’ve never had a sibling, I’m very excited to have seven older brothers now,” you grinned.
“Yeah! About that,” he coughed awkwardly, “— are you considering moving in with us? Your father told my mother that you would be moving, but I wasn’t sure if you were completely willing?”
You nodded. “I’m considering it. I’d like to meet everyone first, however. Just to get used to your personalities.”
“Completely understandable, all seven of us can be,” he paused, “—a lot. However, if you’re up for meeting a few of us, I can take you to our house for a visit. I can drop you back and everything.”
“That’d be lovely.”
He waited patiently for you as you locked the door to your apartment, carefully watching you as you stepped into the elevator.
“Where did you park?” you asked, craning your head upwards to look at him. “I hope you weren’t forced to park on the street, it can be very expensive.”
He shook his head. “I found the visitor parking, it’s all good.”
The doctor led you through the underground parking, weaving through cars and concrete beams with ease until you stopped in front of a bright white car with a silver trident in the middle of its grill. Eyes wide, you knew what this car was. Your dad had admired Maseratis for the longest time, and this one looked to be very new.
Jin gestured to the white Maserati, looking unfairly suave in his scrubs and next to his fancy car. “Hop in.”
Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Mature Type, Namjoon! 
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Chapter 2: Enter the Mature Type, Namjoon!
Jin was a model driver, driving carefully on the streets of Seoul. He looked both ways before crossing an intersection and took slow turns. However, it amused you how he hissed at the console as it beeped to warn him if there was a car or curb too close to him.
However, as you looked out the window, the streets got quieter and the houses a whole lot bigger as you crossed into a residential part of Seoul. You were driving parallel to the Han River, and you saw many people doing water activities or boating to cool off in the hot September weather.
Jin slowed down as you entered an avenue lined by trees and you could see a guardhouse at the end of the picturesque street. However, the two of you avoided the guardhouse completely and took what was presumably the resident’s entrance, where he passed by easily with a scan of a barcode on his tire.
“Do you drive, Y/N?” Jin asked, one elbow resting casually on his open window and the other on his lap.
“No, I never really had time to learn.” More like you never had someone to teach you.
“Okay, so we’ll just need a resident pass for you,” Jin muttered to himself, eyes focused on the street.
He drove through large, green spaces with the occasional building speckling the landscape. You gripped your purse harder. Green spaces unencumbered by large buildings blocking the view were rare in Seoul, the cost of natural land so astronomically high only wealthy business people or very famous celebrities being able to afford places like this. You gulped. Their family was definitely out of your league.
The car stopped in front of a very modern looking townhouse and the garage opened, Jin driving into what seemed to be a much more expansive parking garage under the house. However, instead of boring concrete and fluorescent lighting, sandy colored marble and warm lighting lit the space as you descended through the underground.
Biting your lip as Jin backed in his car easily with just one hand steering the wheel, defined forearms catching your attention, you mentally smacked yourself. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!
You froze up as the doors started to lift up like wings on a butterfly, but relaxed. This level of wealth would definitely take some time to get used to.
He placed a warm palm on your shoulder, his fingertips reaching your collarbones, as he guided you to the entrance, up the dimly lit stairs and to a large, wooden door.
“I wish I could’ve taken you through the front door since it’s much more impressive,” he sighed, and pushed the wooden door open with a thumbprint scanner. “However, welcome to our humble abode.”
An abode it was, but humble was it not. You were only on the ground floor, but the ceilings were very high and you were surrounded by many floor-to-ceiling windows. The main theme of the building was warm marble and dark, rich wood with jewel tones interspersed between.
“Woah,” you breathed out. “You guys have a lot of space.”
“Yeah, “ Jin grimaced. “We kind of need it when some of us like to roughhouse and tend to break things.”
You laughed as he then guided you towards a spacious living room, a large window overlooking the Han River and greenery.
“Sit tight, I’ll get us something to drink,” Jin said, his voice getting fainter as he strode to a room off the massive living room.
Ankles crossed together, you peered at the large room. At first, it looked neat. Everything was in its place and perfectly coordinated by the eye of an expert designer. However, you could see the signs the place was well-lived in. The wear-and-tear of the orange and beige blanket emblazoned with an H that was thrown over the chair of the couch, the mess of wires from various gaming consoles, and even the small depressions on the pillows. 
A shelf of colorful books framed the huge TV and you stood up, perusing them. You expected the books to be typical, non-offensive living room books with dust on the covers but to your surprise, the books on the shelves were well loved with their cracked spines and rounded edges. Tracing over your fingers over the books you whispered the titles to yourself.
Candide, Crime and Punishment, The Metamorphosis…
“I’m sorry, but who are you?”
A deep voice echoed behind you and you jumped in surprise. Whirling around you saw another tall man with neat ash blond hair, glasses neatly perched on his straight nose with a pair of fierce eyes peering out from behind the frames. His charcoal suit was well-fitted to his body and his build reminded you of a tiger; sinewous muscles cording his arms, back, and thighs and tensed, ready to jump into action.
A nervous smile crawled up your lips. “I’m Y/N L/N. Are you one of my new brothers?”
The man relaxed minutely but the fierceness of his eyes did not subside. “I am. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”
He strode across the room in long, confident strides and took your hand. His handshake was strong and you tightened your grip in response, narrowing your eyes at him. His right eyebrow quirked, but he said nothing as he turned his attention to the bookshelf.
“So, what caught your attention here?” He murmured, tenor voice traveling the length of your spine and stroking your sensitive skin. “Is it… this?”
He pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, obviously less worn than the rest.
A smirk tugged at your lips. “No, not that one.”
He stared at you longer, before crossing his arms over his powerful chest. “Oh? Enlighten me, then.”
With nimble fingers, you pulled out a red, slim novel and handed it to him. You carefully tracked his reaction as he took it from your hands, face and eyes saying nothing. He ran a thumb over the agonized face on the cover, and you felt a shiver go down your arm at the sheer sensuousness of it.
“Clockwork Orange,” he breathed out. “Interesting. Are you a Lit Major?”
You continued to stare at the bookshelf, feeling his eyes boring holes into your face. “No, I’m not. I’m majoring in psychology.”
He hummed, eyes tracing the rough artwork of the novel’s cover. “I liked psychology, but at that point I was already double-majoring. I majored in philosophy and business, which are not as different than they seem.”
“Are you out of university, then?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
Namjoon nodded affirmatively. “I’m 24, but I matriculated at SNU when I was 18. I run a conglomerate group now.”
Trying to keep your mouth from falling open in shock— what kind of twenty something year old owned a large business, much less a conglomerate— you nodded coolly.
“Given or made?” you questioned, an edge in your voice. Something about Namjoon made you want to test him, to prod at him constantly.
His fierce eyes turned to you and they blazed. 
“Made.”
Your lips lifted upwards, minutely, until you heard a clinking of glasses.
“Y/N? Sister-dearest? I got you— oh!”
Jin stopped in shock at the sight of you two seemingly huddled together in front of the book case.
“Do you two know each other?” Jin asked, absolutely bemused, as he set down a pitcher and some glasses on the coffee table.
“We don’t,” Namjoon answered. “However,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “—I can see we’ll get along nicely.”
You did not get the same impression, but you digressed. He was one of your brothers now. Another factor was that one of his biceps, even though it was hidden inside his suit jacket, looked like it could strangle you.
Jin continued to stare in suspicion, before shrugging his wide shoulders and settling down on the couch.
“So what were you chatting about then?”
“A couple of books I had on the shelf. Y/N has some interesting taste,” Namjoon commented.
Jin snorted into his water with lemon. “Oh, ew, now I have two bookworms as siblings? Reading was the worst part of university. I liked all the practical stuff.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe that rational parents would let you near their kids,” Namjoon retorted, helping himself to a glass.
“And I can’t believe some women come near you,” Seokjin replied heatedly.
The two of them stared at each other seriously before breaking out in guffaws, hiding your expression behind your glass of water. This was such a weird dynamic and it was only two of them. Well, the best you could do was adapt the situation.
Just like you always had.
Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Rough Type, Jungkook! 
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Chapter 3: Enter the Rough Type, Jungkook!
As the three of you chatted about yourselves (apparently, some of the brothers were biologically Seoyeon’s children or were adopted), Jin’s eye caught the clock behind you and his eyes widened.
“Oh dear, it’s almost 6 o’clock,” Jin fretted, leaping up from the couch. “Everyone should be arriving home soon– excuse me,” he said as he retreated into the kitchen.
“Ah, I guess that means I should get going,” you said apologetically to Namjoon, standing up and straightening your ruffled skirt.
“Please, stay for dinner,” Namjoon smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat.
“Yeah, Y/N, stay for dinner!” Jin yelled from the kitchen.
“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off, hoping you could stay. You felt too lazy to cook for yourself tonight.
“Please do, we hope to see you a lot more around here,” Namjoon said, warm smiling at you.
The security system dinged, signalling a door had opened within the house. Namjoon’s ears perked up.
His eyes flew towards the doorway. “That must be Taehyung or Jungkook, coming in. They’re usually the first to arrive.”
You wondered why both of those names seemed familiar and a heavy door slammed shut.
“Jungkook-ah! Your new sister is here! Come and greet her, you punk!”
The footsteps thud to a halt at the foot of the steps and you spin around in your seat.
In the hallway, a buff man in a loose-fitting white t-shirt and grey joggers stood in front of you. In almost humorous contrast to his hulking, muscled body, the cutest face with big eyes and pouty lips you have seen peered at you.
He looked familiar to you and you bit your lip, trying to figure out where you had seen him. Oh wait! Charger guy!
“Jungkook! You’re in my Calculus class, right?”
“Yeah…” he whispered, looking at you like he saw a ghost.
“It’s so funny that you’re here. It’s nice to meet you as my brother,” you grinned at him, tilting your head to the side.
He nodded mindlessly, frozen at his spot in the hallway.
“Jungkook? Are you good?” you prodded.
Namjoon snorted as he kept on typing into his phone. “Jungkook can’t speak to girls, so he gets frozen like this from time to time. Hyung, you fix him.”
“I’m cooking, you dolt!”
“And I’m trying to earn money so I can provide the food. Go.”
Jin shot you a look, as if exclaiming “look at how I’m treated around here!”, and dusted off his hands. Striding over to a frozen Jungkook, Jin poked Jungkook’s very built chest.
Jungkook still didn’t move and Jin pursed his lips. He poked him again. “Yah! Why aren’t you working?!”
The youngest brother broke out from his trance and looked at Jin seriously. 
“No.”
“Pardon?” you asked, wondering if you misheard.
“No.” Jungkook shook his mass of black, shaggy hair and ran a tattooed hand through it, looking in disbelief at the ground. “No, no, no, no, no no.”
Your slight smile is frozen on your face and you feel your shoulders tense up and, nervously, you look to Jin.
“Jungkook—“
“Fuck!” He threw his hands in the air. Jungkook pointed a finger at you, a line creasing at his forehead. “I did not sign up for this! Fuck!” 
Spinning around, he marched back into the hall and you could see the powerful muscles in his back tense through his thin t-shirt.
“Well…”
Jin, with his hands rubbing his temples, sighed heavily and deflated at the counter. “God, I’m sorry about that Y/N. I don’t know why Jungkookie is acting like that; he’s normally really amiable and nice.”
You laugh softly, trying to defuse the awkward tension that had settled around the kitchen. “Jin-ssi, please don’t worry about it. It’s a huge shift in his life and some people are going to take it harder than others. It’ll take some time, but I’m sure he’ll get used to me being his sister.”
Namjoon scrutinized you with hooded eyes. “You’re very kind. I hope my brothers don’t take advantage of it.”
Your grin cracked a bit. “We’re family. I don’t mind.”
—————
Jungkook would not come down from his room, despite the hilarious mix of threats, blackmail, and aegyo Jin tried to coerce him down with.
You could hear Jin rapid-fire lecturing Jungkook outside Jungkook’s bedroom door and Namjoon sighed, his temples in his hands. 
“Hyung, just give up. The kid’s being moody again.”
Jin acquiesced with ill grace, throwing in a last good “You punk!” up the stairs. He stomped down the carpeted stair well, retying his apron and set to reheat many of the things.
“See if I feed him tonight, that ungrateful brat…” Jin hissed, moodily chopping some screen onions.
Namjoon leaned towards you and beckoned your ear towards his and you obeyed, curious. His scent wafted towards you, yet was not as punchy as a normal cologne. It was subtle and musky, carrying notes of old books and bergamot. Perhaps it was a lotion?
“Jin says that all the time, but will leave him leftovers anyways,” Namjoon whispered into your ear, making you unconsciously shiver. “He’s too much of a pushover.”
You snorted as Jin came out of the kitchen with a dish in hands. “Yah, what was that, Namjoon?”
“Just commenting on how good your food is, hyung,” Namjoon replied coolly and leaning away from you.
Jin glanced suspiciously at Namjoon, before setting down the dish. You gasped, immediately getting to your feet.
“Oh, I’ve been such a rude guest! Can I help in any way? Set out the dishes or something?”
The apron-clad doctor clutched his heart, and wailed, “Look! My cute dongsaeng! Finally, a member of this household that is kind and offers to do their part!” Jin’s voice got progressively louder as he directed his voice up the stairs.
You muffled your laugh with a cough, and turned to Jin again. “Jin-ssi?”
Jin shook his head, clicking his tongue as he directed you to stay in your seat. “No, sweetheart, you’re a guest. Joonie-ah, set out the plates.”
Namjoon got up to get the plates, but as he did, his phone buzzed. Namjoon’s forehead creased as he looked at whatever was on his screen.
“Hyung, Taehyung-ah won’t be here today. Apparently his shoot on Jeju is lasting over night.”
Jin sighed, bustling around the kitchen. “How about Hoseok? Yoongi? I know Chimmy is out of the country right now.”
Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, Chimmy, you memorized in your head. These were the four brothers you had yet to meet.
Namjoon snorted and put down the silverware, forks and spoons tinkling brightly. “You know Yoongi— he’s like a stray cat. He’ll be here when he wants. As for Hoseok, I think he might’ve just fallen asleep at the studio.”
“I’m sorry Y/N, I wish I could’ve introduced you to our other brothers,” Jin apologized. “Now, you’re just stuck with us two grandpas.”
You shook your head. “I’m just happy I could have dinner with you guys. Thank you for inviting me over.”
Jin watched you with a fond smile and Namjoon contemplated you carefully again.
Everything was set out and the three of you dug into Jin’s delicious food.
“Jin-ssi, this is very good. Your food tastes delicious. Did you put brown sugar into the sauce? It really rounds out the taste,” you complimented.
“I haven’t heard a compliment from these ungrateful brats about my cooking for 10 years,” Jin sighed dramatically. “Such a cute dongsaeng.”
Namjoon shook his head at Jin’s immature antics. “I might as well introduce you to Jungkook, since he elected not to do it himself.”
“You seemed to know him from university, yes?” Jin asked.
Nodding, you dabbed your mouth with a napkin. “I know of him, yes. He’s in my calculus class? Although, I feel like I might’ve had him in some of my core curriculum classes.”
“Jungkook is at Yonsei for a technology degree, although at first he was reluctant to go to university,” Namjoon revealed. “He wanted to be a Pro-Gamer and streamer full-time, but Seoyeon, Hyung, and I convinced him to get a degree.”
“He chose technology because he wants to combine his passion for gaming and technology into something in the future,” Jin continued, taking a sip of his water.
“That’s a very smart move of his,” you said politely. You wondered why Namjoon referred to his mother as ‘Seoyeon’. Maybe he was one of the adopted ones?
“That brat upstairs might look like he just screams at the monitor and works out, but he’s much more,” Namjoon reflected.
———- 
When you were cleaning up, you felt bad that Jungkook hadn’t had dinner yet. That man must need like four square meals a day and tons of snacks to keep up his bulk.
“Jin-ssi, Namjoon-ssi, I’m going to deliver some food to Jungkook. He must be hungry,” you called out, scraping some of the food onto a plate.
“You don’t have too, Y/N, he usually sneaks down to get something from the fridge,” Namjoon said as he typed furiously on his phone.
“Don’t worry about it, I want to help him,” you grinned, climbing up the stairs.
Namjoon mumbled something suspiciously like, “You’re too kind for your own good” but you had already gotten to the second landing. Stopping in front of Jungkook’s door, you knocked.
“Jungkook-ssi?” you said when no one responded. “You must be a bit hungry, so I just got a plate together for you.”
Complete radio silence. 
Exhaling sharply through your nostrils, you pouted and bent down to set down the plate next to his doorway.
“Well, if you change your mind, I put it next to your door. I’ll be going now!”
You strode down the hallway, making sure your footsteps trailed off. You hid behind a corner, making sure to conceal yourself completely.
After waiting a few minutes, you were sure he wasn’t going to come out  but his door clicked open and Jungkook emerged in a grey-blue hoodie. He took a surreptitious glance around the hallway before his eyes found you behind the corner.
Blushing, you decided to wave at him. To your surprise, instead of scowling or ignoring you completely, Jungkook’s face turned tomato red as he hurriedly gathered up the plate and slammed his door.
You scratched your head. Maybe he was shy or something.
Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Bright Type, Hoseok! 
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Chapter 5: Enter the Bright Type, Hoseok!
“So, how were your brothers? Nice? Weird? Ugly?” Hyerim pestered as you walked by the subway.
You bit your lip. “Um, really different?”
Hyerim fixed you a look.
“Okay, so I met three out of the seven yesterday. The oldest one— his name is Seokjin, but I call him Jin— is 26 and he’s a pediatric doctor. The other one—”
“Wait, Seokjin?” Your friend squinted at you. “Does he happen to work at SNU Pediatric Group?”
Blinking, you turned to her. “Yeah? How the hell did you know that?”
Hyerim let out a half strangled scream as you stepped down the stairs of the station. You were instantly surrounded by dozens of power blue ads with a purple suit-clad man in the middle, perhaps in the middle of a hip trust, all reading Happy Birthday in aesthetic cursive.
“Hoe! He’s my brother’s fucking doctor, I can’t believe this!”
Your eyebrows nearly touched your forehead. “Shit, really?”
“Yes! Holy shit, did you not listen to me complaining to you about how hot he was? And now he’s your fucking brother? The star must’ve aligned for me! This must mean the rest of the brothers are good looking!” Hyerim squealed.
“Does Jongin not exist anymore?” you asked as you both swiped your subway passes.
“Shhh, just because I’m off the market doesn’t mean I don’t get to look,” she giggled, her pony tail swishing back and forth.
You shook your head, amused at her antics, and continued.
“Anyways, the other brother I met is some fancy-schmancy businessman. Namjoon-ssi is 25? 24? He’s older than me but graduated from college when he was just 18.”
Hyerim’s eyes took on a perverted light and she simpered underneath her hand. “Oh? Am I hearing of sugar daddy material?”
You squawked and hit her shoulder. “Hyerim, stop! These are my brothers, not matches on Tinder!”
“I don’t care, you need a boyfriend— even if it’s a secret and taboo one,” Hyerim said, pushing her hair off her shoulder.
Rolling your eyes, you sat down in a seat next to her. “Anyways, the boys invited me to dinner again tonight in hopes we’ll catch more of the boys in the house. Jin-ssi says trying to get them all in one place is like waiting for a blue moon— it’s very rare.”
“So are you going straight there or going home to change?”
Shaking your head, you gestured at a laminated white pass in your hands. “I wanted to get there early today so I can go home early. Jin-ssi drove me home last night and I don’t want him to be caught in rush hour traffic again.”
Hyerim peered at the pass in your hands. “Hannam the Hill? Hey, doesn’t Han Hyo-joo live there? The actress from Brilliant Legacy?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you leaned into the hard plastic seat. “I don’t know. Probably? All I know is that the place where they live is very ritzy and takes like two security gates to get into.”
“Okay, they’re all sugar daddy material then,” Hyerim commented. She ducked to avoid a hit over the head and you huffed, crossing your arms.
“Stop, they all do pretty well for themselves and I heard my stepmother is some fancy businesswoman from a well-to-do family. They’re just my family now.”
“The train is approaching Yangwon station. I repeat the train is approaching Yangwon station,” the bright voice announced over the intercom.
“Oh, that’s my stop,” you remembered. 
“Wait, you said you met another brother. Who is he?” Hyerim asked as she patted her nose with a compact.
The train slowed to a stop and you got up.
“My other brother is Jungkook. The one from our Calculus class? The streamer?”
Smirking, you dramatically walked away and heard Hyerim’s shriek of disbelief as you stepped onto the train platform.
————— 
“I’m sorry, what?” you asked the guard in disbelief.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but your visitor pass has expired,” the security guard said calmly, eyes scanning you detachedly. Like you were another crazy female.
You were going to kill Jin. Forget his awesome jajamyeon, you’ll bitch-slap both him and Namjoon into another dimension.
“Are you sure you can’t just let me in? Like, call the house or something,” you asked desperately, hands crumpling the visitor pass.
The guard looked like he desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but he picked up his corded phone.
“Building 10, yes?” he asked boredly.
“Yes.”
He waited for the call to be picked up but after several rings, no one picked up.
“Apologies ma’am, but no one appears to be at the house. If you’re done, I’d like to ask you to leave and come back later,” the man said with an air of finality, and turned back to his station and looked at the 6 monitors surrounding his desk.
Your mouth open, you were aghast at his lack of sympathy. He could’ve at least offered for you to let you wait! It was nearing sun down and the boys had invited you to dinner again, and it would be rude to be late.
You don’t even know why they needed this much security. Sure, Namjoon was the CEO of a large conglomeration but wasn’t as high profile as Samsung’s chairman or someone crazy like that. It wasn’t like one of your brothers was a high-profile celebrity, right?
Standing on the sidewalk and looking like an idiot, you decided to call one of your damn brothers. Huffing, you flipped open your phone and selected Jin’s contact. After several rings, the call picked up.
“Y/N?”
“Hi Jin-ssi, sorry to bother you right now. I’m sure you’re busy right now,” you apologized, accidentally meeting eyes with the security guard who stared at you suspiciously.
“You’re fine! Is everything alright?” Jin asked, his voice tinged by concern.
You bit your lip as the security guard raised an eyebrow and picked up his phone, his eyes not letting go of you the entire time.
“I’m trying to get to the house, but the guard told me the visitor pass expired,” you explained, breath hitching as the guard spoke rapidly into the phone.
Jin swore over the phone, the sound muffled as he moved his phone away from his face.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N, Namjoon and I were so sure it was still active. Sit tight wherever you are, I’m texting one of the boys to get you through the gate. Hoseok is about a few minutes away from you.”
“Um, I don’t mean to rush,” you said, eyes widening as the man gestured to get out of the guardhouse, “— but I think the guard is about to detain me.”
“Goddamn security,” Jin hissed. “I’m calling the guard office right now, I am so sorry.”
He hung up and the guard continued to advance towards you, and you grasped your phone a bit tighter. The summer humidity suddenly pressed into your skin, slipped between your waistband and collar to make you sweat. Your eyes flickered to the station. No one was in the guard office to take Jin’s call so you steeled for yourself for what was about to be an ugly confrontation.
“Ma’am, I firmly ask you to leave the premises before I am forced to—”
“Y/N!”
The guard and you turned in the direction of the sound, and you saw a man in a bright yellow windbreaker and black sport shorts somehow jogging towards you in socks and sandals.
“Y/N,” he said, out of breath, as he stopped in front of you and the security guard. He held out a hand as he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
“Hoseok-nim,” the guard bowed in respect, “Do you perhaps know this young lady?”
You got a good glimpse of him as he lifted his head and tennis cap. He pulled down his white mask and you saw his pointed nose, unfairly smooth skin, and sharp chin. You sobbed inwardly. Did all of your brothers miraculously get the luckiest scratch off tickets for the genetic jackpot? The man grinned at you and nodded in affirmative at the guard.
“Yes, I do,” Hoseok said, straightening up.
“I’m sorry, the young lady did not have the proper credentials to enter. My apologies.” The guard continued, speaking to Hoseok as if you did not exist.
Hoseok’s happy expression vanished and his brows furrowed. “Please, don’t apologize to me. My sister looked frightened. My brothers and I would appreciate it if you treated her a bit more politely.”
You hadn’t even noticed how frightened you were as you felt a drop of sweat roll down your temple and the shivers stop.
“I apologize, young lady,” the security guard said, taking off his cap and bowing politely. You smiled tightly and accepted with grace, gesturing for him to get up.
“That being said, we haven’t had time to get her resident pass processed. I’d like to add her to a list of visitors so a mix-up like this will not happen again,” Hoseok said seriously, staring down the security guard underneath his tennis logo cap and eccentric outfit. It almost put a smile to your lips, to see a beefy man in a suit and tie nearly cower under a boy at least half his age and centimeters shorter than him.
“Of course. Hoseok-nim, young lady,” he bowed, and the security guard scurried towards the office.
Hoseok turned towards you and his face brightened, rounded cheeks pulled upwards. “Hi Y/N, I’m so sorry for this mess,” he said, eyes shining with regret.
“I completely understand,” you placated. “You’re… Hoseok-ssi, right?”
He beamed. “Yes, I’m Hoseok. I’m 24, the middle brother. Please, call me oppa, we’re siblings now!”
He slung an arm over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but beam along with him. His bright energy was so infectious and immediately warmed you to him, drawing you into his orbit.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, smile tugging at your lips. “I’m Y/N, 21 years old.”
“I’m so excited to have a cute younger sister,” Hoseok confessed as he walked you through the streets towards the house. “I was always jealous of my friends that could take care of their younger sisters, even though they acted like they were annoyed by them.”
You grinned more brightly. “Me too. I’ve been an only child all my life and having seven new brothers is very exciting to me.”
“You might want to take that back when you’ve met all of us,” Hoseok laughed. “You’ve met Jin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, Jungkook-ah, right?”
Nodding, you spoke, “Yes, I have. Jin-ssi and Namjoon-ssi are very nice to me, but I don’t think Jungkook-ssi liked me very much…”
Hoseok waved it away. “Don’t worry, Kookie-ah doesn’t socialize well with girls. Or people. It took him ages to warm up to us after he got back from his grandparents.”
“Kookie-ah?” you asked curiously.
“Yes,” Hoseok grinned as he turned you onto a familiar street. “It’s our nickname for our youngest. He’s too cute not to tease.” Hoseok frowned as he remembered something. “Even though he is taller than me now.”
Hoseok was pretty tall himself, and you were starting to think that if you all took a family photo one day you’d look like the dwarf in the middle. Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook just towered over you.
“On the other note, what do you do, Y/N? I’m curious about what my younger sister does.”
“I’m a university student at Yonsei, Hoseok-ssi,” you coughed, still not comfortable calling anybody oppa. “I’m studying psychology so I can be a counselor.”
“Yonsei? So my dongsaeng is a smart nut, I see,” Hoseok teased. “Did you know Jungkook before you met him as your brother?”
You shook your head. “I saw him around, but I only knew of him. What about you, Hoseok-ssi? What do you do?”
“I’m a dancer,” Hoseok announced, the house getting closer in view. “I’m part of this dance group, Neuron. We travel to perform and compete in competitions.”
“That’s awesome!” you clapped. “You must be very persistent. I tried ballet when I was younger and it was a disaster.”
“I haven’t heard that before,” Hoseok said, looking curiously at you. “Most people have told me I must be very talented or pull girls easily. But you’re right, I worked very hard.”
“What can I say?” you shrugged. “I just see through people.”
Hoseok guided you up the front steps of the doorway, fumbling through his pants to get his key. As he unlocked the front door, you heard the rumbling of a car going through the streets.
Going at least 100 kilometers per hour, a metallic blue Lamborghini skidded to a halt in front of the house. The weird doors stretched upwards and you saw both Jin and Namjoon emerge from the car.
“Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?” Jin asked worriedly, running up the front door.
“I’m good, Jin-ssi,” you comforted but he ignored it, taking your face in your hands and tilting your head to his view.
“Aish, those damn security guards!” Jin complained, clutching you to his chest and turning to Namjoon. “It’s your fault! Why did you give her that pass! She could’ve been detained! Put into cuffs like—like a criminal!” he ended dramatically.
Namjoon looked flabbergasted. “Me? You’re the one who got it!”
As the two descended into bickering, you peered at Hoseok from in between Jin’s arms. Your eyes screamed save me!
Hoeseok helpfully pried you from the still arguing doctor’s arms.
“Sorry about that, Jin is a bit protective over all of us— he practically raised us. We call him our mom sometimes,” Hoseok revealed, getting you into the house and leaving the now huffing and puffing duo on the doorsteps.
Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Moody Type, Taehyung! 
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Chapter 7: Enter the Moody Type, Taehyung!
As you entered the house, the faint strings of what might be a Daniel Caesar song flowed throughout the house.
“Oh goodie, Taehyung must be here!,” Jin clapped, setting down his keys on a hook near the door. 
Namjoon snorted. “He’s the only one of us that listens to this moody shit.”
Through drought and famine, natural disaster, my baby has been around for me.
A door slammed somewhere on the ground level, and the click clack of heeled boots echoed like muffled gunshots on the marble of the house.
Kingdoms have fallen, angels be calling, none of that could ever make me leave.
Turning the corner, your heart stopped.
Leaning on the wooden doorway was the most heart-breakingly beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. His dyed ash-grey hair was messy around his face, but behind his bangs peeked half-lidded eyes shaped like tear drops. A strong nose and pink lips, like the petals of a flower, were parted open as he stared through you.
“Oh? Is this our new sister?” he said softly, his gravelly voice filling the hall.
You grinned uneasily, fighting off the urge to cover yourself with a blanket or something. It wasn’t that his gaze was improper; those mercurial eyes just seemed to look through you.
“Taehyung, meet Y/N. She is our stepfather’s daughter,” Jin said carefully, eyes flicking between you like a tennis match.
It’s not fair, you thought. His clothes shouldn’t even match. The silky sleeveless tee had a paintbrush stroke across the chest and was bunched into baggy canvas pants covered in paint. It should’ve made him look like those wacky tube inflatables near car dealerships yet he looked like he walked out of a magazine.
“It’s nice to see you, Y/N,” Taehyung nearly whispered, head tilted to the side like he was evaluating a particular interesting museum installation. He made no move to shake your hand or embrace you.
“And you too, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied, bowing politely. He inclined his head.
“Well, I better get back to my red room. My pretties are coming along nicely,” Taehyung pronounced matter-a-factly, spinning sharply around to disappear into the dimly lit hall.
Namjoon face-palmed. “Well, now it sounds like he has a kinky sex dungeon. He just sees the world a bit differently than us, that’s all. It took some time for us to interpret his words when he came to us; for example, his pretties are his photographs.” The businessman looked suddenly pensieve. “Perhaps that’s why he’s so good at what he does.”
“Oh? What does Taehyung-ssi do?” you inquired, feeling like a strong breeze had swept into the room and left as suddenly as it came. You know that feeling? Where your skin tingles in the aftermath, your lips are suddenly dry, and like you could be knocked over the lightest touch.
“He’s a magazine editor, Y/N-ah,” Hoseok grins, putting down his heavy dancer bag on the couch carelessly. “It’s this really new-age, artsy magazine with a cult following. Maybe you’ve seen it? I think he named it something cryptic like ‘V’.”
“I’ll look into it, then,” you beamed, hoping to diffuse the weird tension that had settled on your shoulders.
———- 
Hoseok excused himself to take a shower and Namjoon had to take an important phone call, so it was just you and Jin left.
“Well, I know us five are at least here, and I know Jungkook is due to arrive soon from the gym. However, I don’t know if someone is going to drop by so I just leave an extra plate in the fridge just in case,” Jin said, stroking his chin.
“So, what’s on the menu today?” you asked playfully, taking a seat on the barstool.
Jin ruffled through the fridge, the fluorescent light highlighting his casual t-shirt. “Well, with what we have in the fridge, I can make some Chap-Chae and perhaps Kimchi Jjigae. However, we’d have a lot of chicken left and we need to eat it soon. Hm…”
“Jin-ssi, I know a good chicken recipe. Dakgangjeong? It’s this crispy fried chicken slathered in sweet and spicy sauce.”
The doctor frowned for a moment, leaning against the countertop.
“Is someone allergic? Or doesn’t like Chicken?” you asked worriedly, biting your lips.
Jin shook his head and chuckled. “No, everyone really likes fried chicken here. I’m just trying to remember if we have the ingredients.”
“That’s a relief, because it’s one of my favorite comfort meals.”
Opening the pantry, he bent down to look for something. “I think we do have everything here, thank goodness,” he grinned at you as he got up. “Do you cook a lot?”
“Yup, it’s my hobby,” you revealed, washing your hands at the sink. “I had to learn how to give myself food as a child.”
“Okay, awesome! You get started on the chicken and I’ll do the other dishes,” Jin said brightly, putting some ingredients on the table.
“Sounds good to me!”
You probably weren’t meant to hear it, but Jin giggled underneath his breath, “I have a sous-chef now.”
————
You put the finishing garnishes on your chicken and stepped back. The glaze looked very savory underneath the kitchen lights and dipping your finger into your glaze pot, it also tasted very good as well.
By the looks of it, Jin had finished with his two dishes. Wiping his hands with a towel, he put his hands on his hips and yelled, “Children! Get down here to eat, you punks!” 
As soon as you set down your plate of chicken, a multitude of footsteps resounded throughout the house.
Namjoon strode in first, only in a white shirt and trousers, and nodded coolly at you. The man looked very attractive out of his form-fitting workwear, and you wish your gaze hadn’t lingered on his tan, exposed skin.
Hoseok and Jungkook came in second, rough-housing with each other in the doorway before taking their seats. Hoseok greeted you brightly but Jungkook stared at you without a word before averting his gaze.
Finally, V came into the dining room in a more casual outfit of an oversized shirt and lounge pants, but still exuded an air of effortless grace. He grinned at everyone and plopped down into his chair.
“Alright everyone, eat up!” Jin fussed, setting down the steaming hot bowl and plate he was somehow carrying. You trailed after him with your dish grasped with both hands, hoping you wouldn’t accidentally trip and spill your hard work over the very expensive carpet.
You had to lean over Jungkook to place your chicken in the middle and you heard a startled “eep!” from beside you.
“Jungkook-ssi, are you alright?” You asked, sitting down in your seat next to him.
He nodded wordlessly, his ears red and gaze intensely focused on his plate. Running your eyes over him, you shrugged and grabbed your chopsticks.
The whole family dug in, loud and boisterous as people argued over which cut was better and devolved into personal attacks. Something warm curled up in your chest and warmed your cheeks, hoping to constrain the ridiculous smile that threatened to split your face. Is this how family looks like?
Watching Jungkook engage Taehyung in a very one sided conversation about the benefits of eating a certain part of the meat versus the other was very different than your empty apartment and lukewarm food.
“Wah, hyung, you’ve really outdid yourself with the chicken,” Hoseok gushed as he took a big bite of your chicken. “Please make it for us more!”
Jin chuckled, and set his chopsticks down. “I didn’t make it, so you’d have to ask her if you want more.”
Namjoon, with a strange light in his eyes, gestured to the nearly empty chicken plate with his chopsticks. “You… made this?”
Nodding in affirmative, you took a sip of your cola and cleared your throat. “Yes, I hope you guys liked it.”
Jungkook choked on his water and Jin rushed over to roughly pat his back. “Breath Jungkookie, breath!”
Hoseok yelled in delight and took out his handphone. “My cute little sister made this for me? Wow, my friends are going to be so jealous!” he grinned, snapping a few nice pictures of your glazed chicken.
Jungkook recovered at this point and was trying to fend off mother-hen Jin. “Hyung, I’m fine! I swear! You don’t have to baby me!,” he whined, cheeks red. “Besides, it was probably a bone or something.”
Your oldest brother huffed and sat back roughly into his seat, muttering something about ungrateful kids, while you tried to roll Jungkook’s comment over in your head. Bone? You used boneless chicken?
Deciding to push it away from your mind, you discreetly glanced at your cell phone and realized it was nearing 8 o’clock.
“Oh dear,” you muttered, catching the attention of the men at the table. “It’s almost 8 o’clock and I need to get home to water my plants,” you fretted.
As if on cue, a crack of thunder shook the table and you heard the rain start to hound at the windows and walls.
“Well, I be-leaf they’re getting watered,” Jin commented, cleaning up the last parts of his plate.
Staring at him in disbelief, you started to giggle and soon you were clutching your stomach with how hard you were laughing. 
“Did she like his shitty joke that much?” Jungkook whispered not so discreetly to Namjoon, who looked a bit weirded out himself.
“I’ve- I’ve never met a man with such awful jokes,” you laughed, wiping a tear from your eyes. “But I can’t help finding them so funny.”
The doctor aha-ed and pointed at Jungkook. “See? My jokes are so bad that they’re good!”
Snorting in disbelief, the youngest brother leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed over his built chest. “She’s our sister, she’s obligated to,” he murmurs sulkily. He sneaks a peek at you and you giggle at his adorable moodiness, to which he reddens and avoids your gaze.
Namjoon looked worriedly out the window, quickly turning on the news with his phone.
“— strong windstorms and rains are going to be surrounding Seoul overnight—”
“I can’t, in good conscience, let you go back home in this weather,” Namjoon stated, eyes flickering between you and the loud weather outside.
You hesitated. You were kind of worried for Mr. Ukyo, your cute succulent on the porch. “I—”
“Y/N, please,” Hoseok begged. “What kind of brothers would we be if we left you alone tonight? Stay in. We have a guest room with all the stuff you need.”
“I… okay. Thank you guys,” you smiled uneasily.
Hoseok laughed and patted your back as he got up to put his plate away.
“Sleepover…” Taehyung mumbled as he passed by you. On his way out the door, he gave you a boxy smile that tugged at something in your head.
Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cool Type, Yoongi! 
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Chapter 7: Enter the Cool Type, Yoongi!
“Hi, my cute dongsaeng!” announced Hoseok as he strode into your guest room. “I come bearing gifts!”
You grinned at your exuberant brother as he danced through your doorway, having a pile of stuff in his arms.
“We usually don’t have guests over, but sometimes our mother stays at the house and now we have a bunch of, uh, woman stuff,” Hoseok coughed.
“Thank you, Hoseok-ssi,” you said, moving to sort through the items.
“Call me oppa,” Hoseok whined.
Namjoon peeked through your doorway and saw Hoseok pouting at you, and instantly wacked the back of his head.
“Yah, you literally just met her today. Let her grow more comfortable with us first,” the businessman scolded, before turning to you.
“We have some t-shirts and shorts that don’t fit Jungkook anymore but please don’t tell him that we kept his childhood items,” Namjoon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste, plus some face products.
“You’re really kind, I feel like I’m in a hotel,” you joked, moving to plug your phone into the wall outlet. The place felt like your hotel suite suddenly got upgraded. This guest room was bigger than your entire living room and everything was so nicely decorated, you couldn’t help but gawk like a tourist at the fancy light fixtures and furniture. Maybe if you broke a vase you’d have to work in a host club...
“Ah, really? That’s nice to hear,” Namjoon said, sitting down in an armchair near the window overlooking Seoul and the Han River. He steepled his fingers together, tilting his head at you. “However, if you moved in, this room would be yours.”
Your slight smile turned slightly downwards and Hoseok, sensing the change of mood easily, turned over and whacked Namjoon over his head.
“Who’s the one going too fast now?” Hoseok retorted, before plopping down on the chair opposite of Namjoon.
“No, no, you’re fine, Namjoon-ssi,” you acknowledged. “I just… I don’t want to intrude. Plus, the amount of testosterone in this building…” you trailed off.
“Y/N-ah, we just met you but we already know you’d be a good fit with our family,” Hoseok said, smiling softly at you. “Seriously.”
“I don’t want to seem overbearing and I know you’re very independent, but the idea of you living alone worries Jin-hyung and I,” Namjoon confessed, wringing his hands and looking towards the window. “What happens if there is any emergency? Or you got sick? It’d be hard for us to take care of you.”
Tears welled up at the edge of your vision and your mouth twitched downwards. Quickly pressing a hand to your mouth, you averted your eyes from the boys.
“Y/N-ssi, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Namjoon asked worriedly, getting up from the armchair.
You waved him away, discreetly wiping your nose. “I-I’m fine, Namjoon-ssi. Really. I’m just really emotional all the sudden, that’s all.”
“Y/N-ah, are you sure?” Hoseok piped in concern, craning his neck to see your face.
A hand thrust some tissues in front of you and you took them gratefully, dabbing at your eyes.
“I- I just…” you sucked a breath in, and turned towards the fretful pair of brothers. You suddenly beamed at them, eyes crinkling into crescents and grin splitting your cheeks despite the visible tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’ve never had someone care for me. Thank you.”
The two boys felt their heart stutter at the surprisingly vulnerable confession from the ever-polite yet distant you. They shared a look.
We’re in trouble.
———-
The house quieted down and all the lights were turned out as the rain seemed to get louder. However, despite the busy day, you tossed and turned in the very comfy cotton sheets.
Turning on your side, you watched the rain stream down your window in awe. While the window was big, a building partially blocked your view of the Han river and the Seoul skyline. You unplugged your phone from the charger on the wall and looked at the time. 1 A.M.
For some reason, you couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar environment or the dozens of thoughts crowding your head, but you couldn’t force your head to turn off despite counting hundreds of sheep.
Letting out a frustrated groan, you untangled yourself from the sheets and set your feet on the heated marble. Padding quietly to the door, you tried your best to open and close the heavy wooden door softly.
The house seemed bigger when it was not filled by the loud voices and eclectic, varied personalities of your brothers. Clutching a throw blanket over your shoulders, you made your way down the stairwell with only the city’s lights shining through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows around the house.
Flicking the low lights on in the kitchen, you searched the many cabinets for where they kept their tea packets. You finally found a jar of chamomile tea in a corner of the pantry, turning on the tea kettle and waiting for it to boil.
Leaning against the corner, your eyes got accustomed to the dark of the living room and roved over the personal effects of the brothers. There was a large picture of all seven boys on the mantle of the fireplace with their mother sitting in the middle, however, you could not see the faces of the two brothers you had not met due to the reflection in the glass.
Could you see yourself living here? With the amiable and fussy Jin, and the mature, erudite Namjoon? Wake up every morning to see the infectiously bright Hoseok at the counter and the mercurial Taehyung floating through the house like a wraith? Even go to school with your confusing classmate, Jungkook?
The kettle whistled loudly and you took it off its burner, pouring water into a cup. Flicking off the underhead lights in the kitchen, you padded towards the living room and curled up on the outrageously soft, leather couch. Blowing on your tea, you took a sip as you gazed in wonder at the rain streaming rivers over the large, bay window.
For years, the rain had been your only friend when your father traipsed the globe. It had softly knocked at your window to check if you were okay when you were sick and playfully splashed you when you were sad. The rain sang you to sleep every night when you were young and alone, afraid of the thundering din outside.
Looking at the portrait of the seven boys, you saw a new family.
Smiling into your tea cup, your mind was made up.
A loud beep rang throughout the house and a click reached your ears. Your eyes tried to look through the darkness at the basement entrance, where a figure clad in all black emerged. Feeling a momentary panic seize your heart, your fingers tightened over your mug and you tried to think straight. This was probably your other brother, Yoongi or Chimmy.
“Oh? Who are you?” A raspy voice said, shutting the door behind him. “Are you one of my brother’s girlfriends?”
Shaking your head, you got to your feet. “No, I’m your new sister, Y/N L/N.”
The figure made an affirmative noise and removed his shoes at the massive shoe closet next to the entrance. “Ah, I see. I’m Yoongi, your second oldest brother.”
A crack of thunder shook the house and a few seconds later, bright white lightning flashed through the room and illuminated you both.
In that split second, you saw pitch black hair constrained by a headband. However, what caught your attention was his eyes. Contrasted against pale skin and fierce, arched brows, were lids shaped like the outstretched wing of a bird. He stared at you lazily before they widened minutely.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Yoongi-ssi.”
“You too,” he mumbled and bowed politely, shuffling up the stairs like a gloomy specter.
You blinked a bit at how calmly he took this into stride. Christ, were your brothers fazed by anything?
—————
“Y/N-ah. Y/N-ah, wake up!”
You groggily opened your eyes to see Jin close to your face, his brows bunched together in concern.
“Y/N-ah, are you alright? You’re on the couch.”
Straightening up you could see that you, indeed, were still on the couch. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the rain.
“Oh, yeah, I am,” you stated, rubbing your eyes and yawning. “I must’ve fallen asleep here last night.”
Jin sat across you and looked worried. “Did something happen last night? Was the guest room not comfortable? Did—”
“Oh no, nothing like that!” you tried to say. “The sound of the rain was better here.” 
He looked at you strangely but accepted it with a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway, I’m about to make breakfast, why don’t you clean up a bit? I’ll wake up the other brothers.”
You nodded and almost stumbled trying to get off the couch, before Jin caught you with an arm. You turned your head to see his face uncomfortably close to yours.
“Careful,” he whispered, his minty breath trailing across your cheeks and his eyes roving your face.
You felt your cheeks heat up before you almost threw yourself out of his touch. “Yeah, um, thank you!” you yelled behind you before you fled to upstairs.
————
By the time you cleaned your face and put on a bra, all of the boys— in various states of consciousness— were gathered around the dining counter.
“Y/N-ah!” Hoseok said enthusiastically, obviously one of the more awake ones. He wore a pair of flowered pants that ahjummas usually wore and white, long-sleeved tee. “Yoongi came in last night, he’s our other brother.”
“We met last night, Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi mumbled into a large cup that, hilariously, was engraved with the words “Daddy-Size”. “I came home around 1 AM and saw her on the couch.”
“Oh, was everything alright?” Namjoon inquired politely, stretching his broad muscles as he yawned. Even his loungewear looked professional.
Smiling uneasily, you took a seat at the counter next to Jungkook, whose head was buried in his arm. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep and the city lights calmed me down,” you reassured.
Jungkook suddenly jerked awake next to you, alarmed eyes peeking through his messy black hair. “H-huh?”
You grinned at him. “Good morning, Jungkook-ssi.”
He mumbled a good morning in the direction of the ground before his eyes zoomed into something at your collarbone.
‘Y/N-ssi, i-is that my shirt?” he asked shyly— the first words he has directed towards you.
You looked at the oversized navy shirt, which you had tucked into the pair of denim shorts you wore yesterday. “I think? Namjoon told me it was one of your own.”
His gaze whipped to Namjoon and he started sputtering as Namjoon snickered, putting on a pair of thick-framed glasses.
Suddenly, Jin swore as he looked at his phone. “Sorry guys, but there’s an emergency at the hospital. I need to go,” he said rushedly, racing to the closest to put on a pair of tennis shoes. “Yoongi, cook for them!”
He shut the basement door with a slam and suddenly the house was silent.
“Yoongi-hyung, please,” Taehyung, who had emerged from some hallway, begged with a pout on his petal lips. His voice was extra raspy this morning.
The black-haired man grunted before hiding his face behind his coffee cup. You took that as a no.
“We’re going to starve,” Jungkook complained into Hoseok’s shoulder, who cooed and patted the muscled man cutely.
“Well, I can cook for us if you’d like? As a thank you for letting me stay over?” you said nervously. All eyes turned towards you and you gulped, not used to having all of your brothers’ attention on you.
“That’d be lovely,” Namjoon said, squinting at a novel he had produced out of nowhere.
“Aw, is our cute dongsaeng going to cook for us? I’m living the dream,” Hoseok sighed dramatically.
You snorted and got out of your seat. “I saw enough ingredients for what I want to cook, so just sit tight.”
The boys thanked you and some exited the kitchen towards the living room. You tried to remember where you saw the ingredients yesterday, but the kitchen was extremely big and had those weird cabinets where you had to push in a certain corner to open.
“Uh, where are the onions?” you asked no one in particular.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok nudged the still tired looking man. “Next to Jin, you know the kitchen the best.”
The black-haired sighed heavily and got out of his seat, leaving the “Daddy-Size cup” on the counter. He opened the fridge and bent down to a drawer you hadn’t seen. “Green onions.”
You took the bag and thanked, expecting him to leave the kitchen. “What else do you need?”
He stood there, eyes boring a hole through your face. Even as he was sleepy, he still looked like a cool older brother.
Scanning the ingredients, counting the things you had and didn’t, you turned back to him. “Um, I just need butter, tomatoes, and cheese.”
Wordlessly, he grabbed the ingredients and set it down on the counter next to you. Really expecting he’d leave, he surprised you by pulling out a chopping board and knife.
“How do you need the onions and tomatoes cut, Y/N-ssi?” he asked roughly, raspy voice causing the hair at the nape of your neck to rise. You shook your head. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!
“I need both diced, but slice some of the tomato into thin wedges for presentation,” you asked politely.
He nodded and washed both of the vegetables, before quickly and neatly dicing them with an experienced hand.
You broke the eggs and as you whisked the egg mixture with a pair of chopsticks, you decided to break the silence.
“How old are you, Yoongi-ssi?” 
He didn’t pause in his slicing. “25 years old. How about you?”
“21, but turning 22 soon.”
Yoongi hummed and started on the tomatoes. “Ah, that means you’re university age then. Are you attending university right now?”
Nodding, you grabbed some salt and pepper to add flavor to the omelette.  “Yeah, I’m actually attending Yonsei with Jungkook-ssi. What about you?”
“I’m a freelance producer,” he said carelessly, neatly scraping diced tomato onto a plate. “But I graduated from an arts college overseas in classical performance.”
It seemed like many of the brothers were artistically-inclined, you noted as you washed the spinach. But it amused you that this cool-looking brother of yours, with pierced ears and effortlessly stylish street clothes, could play a fancy-looking instrument.
Your step brother cleared his throat and he stepped back. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
You looked at the finely chopped tomatoes and onions and shook your head. “No, that’s all. Thank you for helping out.”
He inclined his head and padded out of the kitchen, collapsing on the couch with his hoodie over his head.
Turning on the heat, you put the omelette mixture in the pan and waited for it to cook through. As you were gathering the other ingredients to put in the pan, a chin nestled itself onto your shoulder.
“Oh? What is this?” a deep, husky voice rumbled next to your ear.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Taehyung’s finely chiseled face so close to yours. Squeaking, you turned your attention back to the pan.
“Breakfast omelettes, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied a bit shakily, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder and his breath puffing into your ear. “I hope you like it.”
Adjusting his bent over position, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I will, Y/N-ah. It’ll be delicious.”
Your face flamed and you willed the egg to cook faster, trying not to focus on how his large hands pressed warmly into your stomach.
“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaimed, barrelling out of nowhere. “Hyung, you can’t do that! Stop!” 
“Oh? Why not?” the editor asked monotonously, his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your neck. You stiffened and muffled a squeal, neary getting hot oil over your fingers. Your muscled classmate tried, unsuccessfully, to tug Taehyung’s arms from your body but for some reason, Taehyung’s hold on you was ironclad.
In the midst of Jungkook screaming in the background and the shouts of your other brothers, Taehyung sighed heavily and melted into your body. “I miss this,” he murmured.
Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cheeky Type, Jimin! 
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Chapter 8: Enter the Cheeky Type, Jimin!
Over the next few days, you slowly got used to the vibrant and varied personalities of the boys. The brothers were a rowdy bunch but they coaxed you out of your shell with unintentional hilarity and clumsy warmth. Even Jungkook, with your weird first meeting, took to accompanying you throughout school and engaging you in shy conversation. Visiting the house frequently, someone was always there to entertain you and coerce you into trying to move into the house.
However, as the days passed by, you saw neither hide nor hair of the mysterious seventh brother. None of the brothers seemed to be fazed. One day, as Namjoon drove you home, you decided to press the subject.
“Namjoon-ssi? Who is my seventh brother? I haven’t heard much of him,” you inquired shyly.
He hummed, leaning an arm casually against the window and driving between lanes with just one hand. Namjoon didn’t drive as recklessly as Jungkook, per se, but he seemed to think other cars were just nuisances on the road.
“I was wondering when you’d ask about that. Our other brother is not home a lot because he’s usually on tour,” Namjoon revealed in his deep voice. “He’s an idol.”
You gasped and looked at Namjoon in surprise. “You’re fucking with me.”
He chuckled, a chocolatey, rich sound that filled your ears and did funny things to your belly as he turned to exit the highway. “No, I’m not. Our little Chimmy is an idol.”
Taking out your phone, you opened up the web app. “Chimmy? Is that his name? Or does he have a stage name I need to find.”
Namjoon shook his head. “No, his name is Jimin. 23 years old, debuted 3 years ago.”
Smacking your head, you exclaimed, “Oh wait! I know him! I saw his birthday ads all over Seoul a few days ago. Wow, my brother is a celebrity, huh?” 
Typing his name into the search bar, millions of results popped into your browser. Gorgeous, fan-taken photos filled the image section and you clicked on one.
Wow. Jimin looked ethereal on stage, in a loose, white shirt and tight, black pants as he performed some sort of strenuous dance move. His plump lips, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones were still stunning in low quality photos. You were seriously starting to think your stepmother secretly paid for them from a lab. It really wasn’t fair that you, an average 4, were now related to solid fifteens. 
You clicked on a video with nearly 12 million views of him at a fanmeet event, his eyes crinkling and lips pulled up in a grin as he did aegyo for his adoring fans.
“He’s very popular, isn’t he?” you asked Namjoon rhetorically.
Namjoon snorted. “An understatement. We can’t go out in public with him unless he covers his hair and his entire face. He has security tailing him when we go to crowded places, it’s ridiculous.”
Something clicked in your head. “Ah!” you exclaimed. “That’s why you guys live there! And here I was, thinking you were all paranoid.”
His laugh filled the car again and you got a whiff of his musky cologne as he leaned over to adjust the air conditioner. “Yeah, even when we moved there a few years ago before Jimin’s popularity exploded, he had some crazy fans. Seoyeon, Jin, and I decided to choose Hannam Hill for their security.”
“You’re such good brothers,” you grinned at him. You swore you saw a hint of red beneath his collar as he cleared his throat.
“And we’re lucky we’re gaining such a good… sister.”
You tapped at your purse. “At least with my residence pass I won’t be detained now.”
The man next to you groaned and nearly facepalmed into the driver’s wheel.
“Do you have to remind me of this? I take it back, my sister sucks.”
——— 
Jungkook and you walked through the campus gates, finished with the Calculus class and exhausted after the test.
“Wait, shit, did I derive number eighteen right?” you fretted, your sweaty hands fiddling with your bag strap. “Oh my god now, I didn’t foil correctly!”
“Relax, Y/N, you did fine,” Jungkook snorted, no longer as painfully shy as he was when he first met you. You never did get why he had such a violent reaction to you at first, though.
“Easy for you to say, Mr. I-don’t-study-yet-I-still-get-A’s,” you huffed in annoyance, accidentally bumping shoulders with him.
He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. An ‘eep!’ escaped your mouth but you found you couldn’t protest as Jungkook looked down at you with the cutest, bunny smile you had seen.
“Relax, Y/N. It’s just one test.”
You sulked and crossed your arms, trying to push the heat in your cheeks away. Clearing your throat you ducked from underneath his arms. You thought you saw a flash of disappointment in Jungkook’s face, but you quickly linked arms with him so you could walk more comfortably. His eyes widened and he looked upwards, the tips of his ears a flaming red.
Ignoring several stares from your fellow university students, you walked to the campus parking lot where Jungkook had parked his car.
“Jungkook-ah? Which car did you drive today?” you asked, flushing a bit as you heard your own words. Imagine what the you from a few weeks ago would’ve said. What kind of rich bitch did you turn into?
“The silver one. The Mercedes,” he said casually but you knew he was beaming with pride. He had revealed to you, one day when driving home, that he bought this car with his streaming money and not with cash from his brothers or family. Jungkook was insanely protective of this car. 
“Gotcha.”
Throwing your bags into the backseat, he started up the car. Feeling that it was a bit hot, you decided to roll down the window. Fumbling for a hair tie in your bag, you decided that putting your hair up would be smart.
“—gry, Y/N?”
“Huh?” you asked confusion, hair tie in your mouth. 
“I just asked if you were hungry, Y/N?” he said, voice trailing off in a question as he looked up from his phone. His eyes widened at you.
“Um, not really? But if you are, I can whip us up something once we get home,” you said confidently, twisting your hair into the tie. Huh, when did you start calling it home?
“... Jungkook?”
He nervously cleared his throat as you looked at him, pulling back your hair into the tie. The tip of his ears were red and he seemed a bit flustered. Your brother fumbled with the controls, accidentally turning on the windshield wipers. Biting back a smile, you smoothed down your hair.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
————— 
The house was silent as the two of you entered. It seemed no one was in the house today, all of your brothers very busy with their respective jobs.
“I’m going to take a shower, Y/N, “ Jungkook said as he climbed up the stairwell. 
You hummed affirmative as you threw your bag at the foot of the coffee table, collapsing into the comfy leather couch. Switching on the TV, you couldn’t find anything interesting so you settled on an entertainment channel.
“Thousands of fans crowded Incheon Airport’s International Terminal today…”
Snuggling into a sun spot on the couch, you nuzzled your face into a pillow. The warmth made you feel drowsy and you decided a quick nap was alright. Nodding off, you could hear the shower turn on upstairs.
“...as international Hallyu star Jimin arrived back in Korea …”
—————
“Oh? Who are you?”
You groggily opened your eyes to the high-pitched voice that was honey to your ears, an unconscious “huh?” coming out of your mouth. In your bleary vision, you saw lavender-blonde hair and pink, plump lips hovering above you.
The man snickered and you felt a smooth hand grasp your jaw to turn your head upwards. Your eyes focused and you swore you were still dreaming, because the face so close to yours could only be an angel’s. Ethereal eyes like a storm looked lazily down at you, his high cheekbones and narrow jaw highlighted by the warm light of golden hour.
“Are you a fan? You shouldn’t be here,” he scolded in a sing-song voice, clicking his tongue as he stroked a thumb over your chin.
You couldn’t think after being awoken from such a deep REM cycle and being near such an unearthly man, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.
“Naughty, naughty girl,” he whispered, minty breath puffing against your face. “Well, if you’re here, I might as well make the most of it.”
With strength you hadn’t expected, he suddenly caged you into the couch— a leg between yours and the other on the floor, his hands trapping your hands above your heads. His silk shirt brushed against the exposed skin of your belly, making you shiver.
“H-hey!” you said, regaining your thoughts. “What the hell?”
He chuckled, a cruel edge to his voice as his face neared yours. “Oh, playing the innocent card are we?” His lips neared your ear and you froze, eyes wide as his plump lips brushed against your earlobe. “Don’t worry, baby girl, you’re pretty enough to pull it off.”
The man started to press a kiss at space between your ear and neck, and slowly started to trail down your sensitive neck. You inhaled sharply as his teeth and tongue prodded at your skin and he snickered, his voice vibrating against your skin. An involuntarily squeak left your lips as he bit playfully at your collarbone.
“H-Hyung?”
You both turned to see Jungkook, hair still wet from the shower, staring at you two in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his lips were opened in shock as he suddenly froze in the middle of the living room.
“Jungkookie!” the man said brightly, no trace of the breathy, seductive voice he had used to lull you into a trance. His limbs no longer trapped you as the lavender haired man sprang up and ran to the stock-still Jungkook.
“Aw, Jungkookie, I missed you,” the familiar yet still unknown man cooed as he clung to Jungkook’s broad shoulders. “It’s been so long,” he whined, lips pursed in a pout.
Still breathless from lavender boy’s attentions, you sat up on the couch and saw stars as the blood rushed to your head. Blinking to clear it away, you reached up to your neck to touch the spots where lavender boy had touched.
“Jungkook-ah?” you whispered, voice rough from lack of use. “Who’s this?”
Your classmate still stared at you in shock as lavender boy clung to him like a leech, cooing at Jungkook.
“Aw, is this your girlfriend, Jungkookie?” Angel boy said fretfully after a moment of silence. “I’m so sorry, I thought she was a fan! Forgive me!”
You cleared your throat nervously, righting your disheveled clothes and messy hair. “Look, I have no idea who the hell you are, but I am not Jungkook’s girlfriend nor your fan and either way, you should not be— be assaulting unsuspecting girls who just wanted to nap!”
“Who the hell am I?” Lavender boy retorted rudely, no longer seductive or cutesy as his eyes narrowed at you. “I live here, wench!”
“Well I’m about to, fool!” you sneered, crossing your arms.
“Jungkook-ie, call security as I deal with this clearly crazy lady!” The still unknown boy huffed, advancing towards you.
Jungkook finally got out of his trance and grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. “Jimin-Hyung, stop! Haven’t we talked about her in the groupchat a lot? She’s our new sister!”
Jimin froze and his eyebrows lifted minutely, whirling around to look at Jungkook. “Wait, what? We have a sister now?”
He looked at you differently, eyes scanning your figure disinterestedly. “Did Seoyeon—” he spat out the name like it was stale gum in his mouth, “—find another baby we didn’t know about? Another poor bastard like me?”
You got whiplash with how much he changed moods and started to inch away. Well, it seemed like your step brother was nothing like how he portrayed himself in the videos you had seen online about him. A frown pushed at your lips.
Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, hyung, mom got married again to Y/N’s father. She’s our new step sister now.”
Jimin stayed silent before he turned to you again, his eyes mocking. A shit-eating smirk crawled up his lips. “Well, sister dearest, welcome to the family!”
Arc: Character Introductions Ended. Press [ X ] to continue?
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A/N: If you’ve watched BroCon and you’re curious to who each person is based on, here’s the guide:
Jin (Doctor) = A mixture of Uyko and Masaomi
Namjoon (Businessman) = Natsume
Jungkook (Gamer/ Uni Student) = Yusuke
Hoseok (Dancer) = Himself lol he was supposed to be Subaru but i didn’t want to make him super angsty. Don’t worry, in this story he’ll be more than just his stage persona :)))
Taehyung (Magazine editor) = Louis
Yoongi (Producer) = mixture of Yuusuke’s tsundere-ness and Iori’s calmness
Jimin (Idol) = Fuuto with a bit of Tsubaki’s personality
Anyways, if you enjoyed it, please comment and reblog!!! I appreciate any feedback you may have, whether it be a sentence or a whole dang paragraph— I love it all :))) Please, if you’re doing okay, please help me pay for school through my Ko-Fi (link in my profile).
Arc II: Decisions and Settling In will be released in a month!! Comment if you’d like to be tagged :))
725 notes · View notes
forsworned · 3 years
Text
[♥] academyau! sweet like candy {teacher!giyuu tomioka x teacher!reader}
Genre: Fluff, Slight Sensual Themes
Categories: F/M
Relationships: Giyuu Tomioka/Reader
Word count: 1,599
a/n: really wanted to make this into a little series because i’m kind of obsessed with kimetsu academy i think it’s so cute and funny but anyway enjoy!,,, requests are open
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➽────────────── ────────────── ──────────── ❥ 
Sometimes being a teacher was hard. You had to make your own lesson plans, grade all the work you assign and make sure your students are well engaged enough to get it and want to ge there. Which they both knew, they really didn’t want to be there. So like any teacher, [Name] would always try to make her lesson plans fun and not give monumental loads of homework assigments and papers. Especially since the biggest class she taught was straight out of Mr. Tomioka’s P.E. class and he absolutely worked them to the bone. 
[Name] sighed as she retired for the day after her last student left for extra help, and headed off to her favorite cafe to continue grading her papers. Not like she made them write a ten page essay or anything, but boy were these terrible. The headache already setting in as dragged herself out of her car and into her favorite coffee/tea shop.
The bell at the top of the door rang, signaling her presence as she made her way in. It was in that moment that she stepped through that her eyes grew double in size at the scene painted in front of her.
Mr.Tomioka sitting alone at one of the booths with possibly the biggest cup of green matcha ice cream, a dollop of whipped cream with the most cutesy sprinkle decorations. He was shamelessly stuffing his face as if it were his last meal. Melted green matcha melted from one corner of his mouth with sprinkles plastered on the other side. [Name] covered her mouth in complete and utter astonishment. She didn’t know whether to laugh, scream or cry.
Giyuu had felt as if someone was spying on him and low and behold, Miss.[Last Name] was peering down at him with the most bewildered expression on her face. 
“Hello, Miss.[Last Name]. Odd seeing you here.” He spoke nonchalantly as he took another bite of his icecream. Giyuu was completely unbothered by her presence, mostly because it was a teacher and not a student who had interrupted his gluttonous guilty pleasure. 
“I-I didn’t know you were such a sweeth tooth, Mr.Tomioka.” She stammered. [Name] really didn’t know how else to react to Giyuu just sitting deadpanned as he gazed up at her. It wasn’t too out of character for him since she had saw him munching on raisin bread on the staircase quite often. She made it a point to avoid him as to not embarrass him. His cerculean eyes bored into hers and it made her an ounce more self conscious. Did she have something on her face? Her teeth? Or worse a stain on her blouse?
“Yes, well, I do find myself coming here from time to time to relax after a long day at work.” His gaze shifted back to his mountain sized pile of icecream and took another large bite. She could’ve sworn he blushed as he did.
“You mind if I join you?” She asked almost timidly. Giyuu was intimidating to say the least. Well to [name] he was. His casual attitude always seemed to throw her off. He hummed in acknowledgement and she smiled as she slid in the booth across from him.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a lady friend, Giyuu-kun~” A server who seemed to show up out of nowhere sang as she set the spoon down with a napkin. Giyuu froze at his name being said so informally in front of [name] and she was just as shocked to hear it.
He didn’t say anything as the server skipped away. It was so quiet that if a pin dropped you could hear it.
[Name] couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from her lips as she watched as Giyuu sulked in shame. “G-giyuu-kun?”
“Fine, maybe I come here everyday.” He muttered as he took another bite. Now he was miserable, but [name] shook off his embarrassment. She didn’t want to make him feel bad in his comfort zone. 
“No, no. I was only teasing. It’s kind of nice that you come here and give this mom and pop your business.” She picked up her spoon and scooped a small part of the untouched side of his ice cream and hummed in delight when it reached her taste buds. Her tongue grazed across her lips and at the spoon again to lick it clean.
“Damn, that’s really good!” She cheered. Giyuu did not take his eyes off her lips for a single moment. He gulped his icecream too quickly causing him to have brain freeze. He groaned in pain as he held his head. [Name’s] expression quickly faltered into a state of panic as she watched his face contort in agony.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” The pain subsiding as he waved her off. 
“Yes, I’m fine. Just brainfreeze. Anyways, what are you doing here?”
[Name] sighed as she pulled out the stack of papers from her bag and placed them on the table. 
“Ah, essay season, I see. I saw Mr. Renguko with his stack earlier. He was buzzing right through them. Said they were all awful but he appreciated their ‘blazing’ efforts.” 
[Name] laughed melodiously and it made Giyuu’s ears perk up in delight. 
“That’s Mr. Renguko for ya, huh? Yeah, mine were pret-ty terrible, too. I don’t what’s gotten into them. It’s like every thing I teach goes through one ear and out the other.” Her spoon clinked against the glass again as she depressing grazed at the ice cream. 
“Well, it is almost summer break and you do teach the upperclassmen. They’re probably having a case of senioritis.” 
Giyuu mentally chuckled at thought of her upperclassmen students tripping over thin air when he asked them to run 10 laps around the gym. 
“Are you smiling?” It just slipped out of her mouth. She hadn’t intended to let it, but she honestly couldn’t help it. It was the first time she had ever seen him look--happy and it was undeniably cute.
“I was just thinking of my upperclassmen tripping.” He didn’t bother hiding his smile at this point and it was glorious. [Name] found herself blushing at how heavenly he looked. Giyuu had seemed to caught wind of her staring at him in awe, and cleared his throat.
“Sorry,” [Name] abashedly spoke as she looked away. “I should probably go and get these finished.”
She started to get up to dismiss herself and gathered her papers after shamelessly gawking at him. 
“You don’t have to leave. I could use the company.” Giyuu had worked up almost every nerve to let those words flow out. She was nonplussed at his words.
“Y-you sure?” 
“Yeah, maybe I can help with those papers.”
“I’d like that.”
[Name] smiled as she sat back down and he held out his hand to take the stack of papers from her hands. Giyuu’s face quickly twisted in contempt as he skimmed over the first paper. 
“This is ass.” 
Her eyes dilated at his choice of words and he realized that he let his guard down.
“I mean it is.” [Name] laughed loudly at his brash statement. She didn’t know he was such a clown.
“There’s like zero sentence structure and no punctuation. Also, they’re using run on sentences.” He pointed to the the first few paragraphs. Her eyes twinkled at his sudden sharpness. 
“Oh, you’re right! Thank you, Mr. Tomioka. I didn’t think you’d be so good at catching these mistakes.” Giyuu felt his face fluster at her flattering remark.
“Well, I did say I could help you.”
She gazed up from her student’s work to Giyuu’s ice cream coated lips. It didn’t make him any less dreamy to her because all she wanted to do in that moment was use her finger to lap up the remains and swirl her tongue around her finger. And for once [name] let her intrusive thoughts win. She murmured in delight. It tasted even sweeter coming from his lips. The look of disbelief on his face as the heat rushed to his face. 
“You’re sweeter than candy, Mr.Tomioka.”
[Name’s] face faltered along side Giyuu’s at the realization that she wasn’t living in her head, but that she had in fact, really done it. Giyuu wiped his mouth with the stack of napkins besides him, wondering how and why he deserved something so delightfully embarassing. 
“I’m so sorry--I”
“You should be.” He put his napkin down. “You could’ve told me that I had ice cream on my face.”
[Name] didn’t know whether she should have felt humiliated or not at that point. Did he just completely miss the part where she just indirectly licked ice cream off his face or...?
“So, back to the papers.”
“Ah, y-yeah. The papers!” [Name] scrambled for a moment handing him a small stack. “You work on these to start out and I’ll get started on these.”
Giyuu tried his best to dismiss the trembling from his hand as he took small heap from her hands. His heart beating out of his chest as he kept his cool demeanor from slipping. 
“We should do this more often.” He said it without thinking (head empty head ahhh).
[Name] visibly relaxed when those words left his mouth. She didn’t expect him to even help her, but now he was practically asking her to hang out with him more. She flashed him a big smile that made his heart skip a beat.
“That would be a big help, Mr. Tomioka. Thank you.”
He looked down to hide his agitated state.
“Don’t mention it.”
324 notes · View notes
dorimena · 3 years
Note
That ask you got about Shoto being soft : an Absolute meal.
Please, could you please write what happens after ? Like, it’s not going to be the first time he watches his reflection with a pout in the mirror. He’s always been lean thanks to training and also his dad overly controlling his diet in the past. So, now that his body is soft?
When you fuck him, his thighs jiggle a bit. His butt bounces if you spank him. It always did, but now even more so. When you have him tied to a chair,naked, his tummy is adorable, the little fold in it is biteable and for some reason, it becomes even more sensitive.
The softness of his body somehow accentuates how more sensitive he is now.
But, he always needs the reassurance that you still think he’s pretty. That’s he’s still your beautiful boy.. Maybe he even asks you if you mind ? Maybe after he recovers and he asks you if you want him back as he used to be. ( because he actually liked how your fingers sank more in him now , the way you praised a little more to ease his worries and the self conscious way he held himself sometimes. But , he would go train more, ask his mum to stop being pastries, if that is what you wanted. He’d do anything for you and to make sure you still want him)
+ (imagine him crying a little when praised)
Of course I could! (✯◡✯)
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𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Todoroki Shoto
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.8k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; Soft!Todoroki, fluff, a sex scene, insecurities, implied praise (sexual and non-sexual), bondage (in the sex scene), proclamation of love (kinda), reassurance, cuddles, cursing, dom!reader, sub!character
𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; aged-up character, Todoroki is 20+
𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I hope you like it! I kind of kept coming in and out of some weird writer’s block, so the ending might seem a bit rushed. This isn’t proofread yet!
Also! Shoutout to @buckybabyboyzzz for unintentionally helping me with this, because some ideas in this fic come from our conversation about soft!shoto, and by our conversation I mean me receiving their ideas about soft!shoto ヽ(*・ω・)ノ
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𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 (𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊)
You knew fucking him and kissing him everywhere wouldn’t be enough for him to feel secure. It’s illogical to think he wouldn’t go back to the mirror and stare at himself again, with that mean, insecure gaze set on his tummy, on his hips, on his thighs.
You know he’s struggling to accept his new body, and it’s showing with how he’s suddenly becoming more conscious of his cravings, of the servings (which are one of the few things that haven’t changed), of the food being placed on the table (again, another of the few things that haven’t changed.)
He asked you, in such a small, low tone, about what you think made him put on weight. And you couldn’t even lie, not when he’s staring at you with so much trust, awaiting your honesty, knowing you’re not going to be mean or rude about it.
And with such a smooth voice, you tell him that maybe the amount of times he’s snacking and lack of permission to be able to burn off the calories would have contributed. 
And you waited for him to react, to maybe cry, to get angry with himself, to maybe go back to the mirror to check and agree that you’re right.
Instead, he nods and snuggles closer next to you, hugging you close to him as you both continue to watch another one of Midoriya’s movie recommendations, considering how behind Shoto apparently still is with the whole movie culture situation. He just found out where the ‘I am your father’ reference comes from and he’s never felt so happy.
Okay that’s a lie, you fucking him more times after the first has made him feel so much joy and makes him feel so desired and needed.
But, it’s not enough to ease his insecurities and new thoughts away.
You come back from work one day, concerned over how quiet the house is.
The TV isn’t on.
The radio isn’t either.
You don’t even hear the shower.
You thought maybe he’s napping, because poor baby’s still catching up with sleep, but he’s nowhere.
You don’t really panic, but you’re worried.
Maybe he went to the office for something? But he usually texts you when he’s on his way.
Maybe the doctor called for a checkup? But the appointment isn’t until next week.
You can’t really come up for another reason why he wouldn’t be home, but you decide to simply text him to come home soon and safely, telling him you brought some take-away pasta.
About an hour later he returns, all sweaty yet glowing with joy.
Curious, you ask him about the sudden change in personality, as he was gloomy since a few days ago.
He tells you how he called the doctor and asked if it’s possible he could go on long walks and possible morning or evening jogs, to which the doctor gave him the thumbs up and off Shoto went to do some errands, even paying a visit to Midoriya’s house.
He went to take a shower, not before handing you a bag of what appears to be some new workout clothes.
But, his clothes still fit and look fine on him?
Shoto wouldn’t agree, doesn’t, not with how tight his sweatpants feel around his thighs, how you can easily tell where he’s put on weight when even trying to cover up with a hoodie.
And seeing the new clothes in the bag made you upset, if not a bit angry. 
You’re trying your best to understand, but he does one thing and then the next does a complete 180°.
And that night when you’re both just kissing each other, you trying to suck up any moan or whine he makes, the moment you begin palming his dick he pulls away. Staring at you with a weird look in his eyes before turning around, mumbling a goodnight.
No, impossible. You’re not going to allow this!
So the next day when he comes home from another job, you call him from the bedroom, seductively lying on the bed as you play with the ropes.
With enough persuasion, seduction and sweet promises, you manage to tie Shoto to a kitchen chair that you brought into the room before he arrived.
And you’re on your knees, your hands slowly massaging up and down on his thighs while you kiss his stomach, nuzzling the skin before leaving some pretty hickies. 
Shoto’s shaking, eyes filling with tears but not because of pain or pleasure. He’s not sure why he suddenly feels so emotional, but his sniffling catches your attention.
You look up as your kisses go to the base of his dick, making him whimper as he tries to tell you to stop.
But he doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t want this to stop. He’s not sure why he’s so embarrassed (he does know) or why he’s trying to hide (he also knows). He moans your name, rolling his hips up because he wants you, he really, really wants you.
You're not done yet, but while you stroke him slowly, teasing his tip, biting and kissing his thighs, moaning your praise and singing your compliments, all while not breaking eye contact with him, not wanting any of your words going through one of his ears and out the other.
That night you ride him to oblivion, making him go through countless toe-curling orgasms as he fills you with so much cum, his soft cheeks so red you bite them gently, helping him stay grounded and not go stupid yet. 
It helps him think between orgasms about how even with all this attention, with you still desiring him and his body, it still doesn’t feel enough.
Once you’re both cleaned up and snuggled in bed, he has that weird look again, but you know what you have to do now.
You kiss him, so softly, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss, and once he pulls away, you whisper so happily how beautiful he looks, fixing his bangs to show his eyes better, tracing the bridge of his nose and softened jawline. 
And in the following mornings until the doctor’s appointment, you compliment how pretty he looks, how well the color of the new gym clothes look on him, how much warmer he feels whenever you hug him.
And once you hug him, it’s so hard for you to let go, to go to work after that. 
You just hope your love has oozed out of you and he managed to absorb it. Sounds weird, but you just want him to remember your promise that you’ll always love him no matter what.
The day of the appointment came and went within a blink of an eye, but Shoto’s been torn between worried and delighted. He can finally start going back to the gym! He can also take baby steps through his training, but he can also go on runs, just not for long periods.
He’s still forbidden from going to missions yet, but patrols are okay as long as he has sidekicks with him.
Yet, he’s worried about you. You’ve been silent all day, having accompanied him just in case. You aren’t ignoring him as far as he could tell, but you haven’t been your chirpy self, not even following much of his attempts at small talk.
Is this the moment you tell him you’re breaking up with him?
Okay, that sounds ridiculous, but he just wants to know you’re doing okay! He just wants to know everything you’ve done since he’s been homebound (kinda) until today wasn’t out of pity but genuine love and care.
So he sucks in some breath before asking you..
“Do you mind that I’ll be going back to the gym? Did, um, did you like me like this?”
He braces himself for the next question.
“Do you… Do you want me to stay like this? Would this make you happy?”
“Would it make you happy?”
You ask back softly, opening your arms to invite him for a hug, one he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself into, making you both land onto your bed. 
“You’re avoiding my question-” “I’m not! I’m not, Shoto. If working out to get back your body makes you happy, then go for it. I don’t care about your body. Okay, that sounded bad, let me rephrase that.”
You nervously laugh as you shift, making sure he’s comfortable as you try playing with his hair in such an awkward position.
“I love you, Shoto, very, very much. I love you because of your generosity, your kindness, your sometimes too brutal honesty, your unintentional jokes and weird humor, your confusion for such everyday normal things that you weren’t exposed to, your excitement that you fail hiding whenever we pass your favorite donut shop.
And your body during these times has made me live through one of the best experiences of my life! I got to spoil you in so many ways I wasn’t able to do before because of how busy you were. And I got to finally see a side of you no one else was able to see: you’re naturally sensitive, baby. Not in a sexual way, but in such a tender, sweet way that makes me just want to keep you away from every danger in the world.
Shoto, I saw the way your eyes lit up with the doctor’s words, and I’m glad he finally gave you the thumbs up.”
You sigh, frowning as you hold him closer.
“I know how mean you’ve been with yourself, how cruel the change was messing with your mind. I might not understand to a certain extent, but I just want you to know that I’m in no way against you going back to how you were. What I am against is you still being mean with yourself and possibly overworking yourself. Do you understand?”
He takes a while to shake his head, not knowing what you exactly mean but has a pretty good guess.
“What I mean is that you might push yourself too far and hurt yourself again. And if you hurt yourself again, the doctor might make you stay at home for who-knows how much longer and take away this opportunity you’ve probably been waiting for.”
He gasps, never having really thought about that. Yet-
“Do you want me like before?”
“Yes and no, Shoto. Yes, I want you like before because I’ll always want you, no matter what. No, I don’t want you like before because you’ll overwork yourself again and probably hurt yourself even worse next time.”
And with the conversation you both continue to have, many other topics are spoken about, helping Shoto come with his own conclusion that maybe he’ll stay soft like this for a little while longer, until he adapts back into a healthy recovery and workout routine. 
Actually, it’s only because he wants to bask in a bit more of your praise, in your reassurance, in your care as you help guide him back to his old lifestyle, all while slowly taking out certain things that you’ve both incorporated into your lives while he stayed at home.
Meaning next time his mother paid a visit, pastries, as much as they’re appreciated, will be politely declined.
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tooweirdforyou · 4 years
Text
Top 5 OP Boys Best to Comfort You
Whether it’s because you’re sad, stressed, etc.
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A/N : please enjoy. I apologize if it’s not great.
Summary : the top five boys, in my opinion, that would be best at comforting, I guess.
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5. Red-Haired Shanks
— sorry, but Shanks wouldn’t be able to give a proper hug. Jokes aside, Shanks is a nice, playful and light-hearted guy who will get down to business if needed. He’s so understanding and if he sees that you’re feeling stressed or anxious about something, he’d immediately offer you a drink but if not, he’ll pull you to a private room and just sit you on the bed to talk. Nothing else.
You’re sitting in his lap as he rubs smooth circles on your back and letting you sit there and rant but if you don’t want to talk, then silence it is. He’ll keep ensuring you that you’ll be okay. If you ever need anything, Shanks will make sure you get it.
“If you ever need anything, I’m right here, darling. I’m always available by your side, no matter what.”
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4. Vinsmoke Sanji / God Usopp
— this was difficult so I decided to put both.
— Sanji loves and cares for everyone deeply, even Zoro, so obviously he cares about you. When he finds you crying one day, he’s quick to jump by your side and make sure you’re alright and not in any pain. When you bury yourself into his arms and chest, he’d blush a little before remembering that this was serious and lift you up bridal style, closely to him.
He’d carry you to the kitchen instead of a bedroom and place you down at the table before going over to the kitchen area and ask what you want to eat or drink. Even if you refuse, he still makes something in hopes it’ll cheer you up and offers to listen while he prepares it. When he’s done, it’s in front of you and you find yourself enjoying it with Sanji watching with a warm smile, holding your free hand in his across the table.
“My Angel, let me have the honor of being the warmth and care you need.. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m right here with open arms, [Name]-chan. Trust me. It’ll get better.”
— Usopp, this boy would make panic and look to see if you’re hurt then would repeatedly ensure you that a protective strong warrior is there to protect you. After all jokes are made, Usopp turns solemn and is sitting in front of you, cross-legged and gently asking if you’re willing to share, so he can help.
His eyes are glossed with sadness in them and glassy with tears from your mental pain and stress. First, Usopp would make light jokes and lies to help pull you from the dark place and to lighten the mood. But then, he starts to hold your hand and assuring you that nothing was fair and it’ll be hard and stressful and cause lots of pain, but, it WILL subside. It’ll go away sooner than you think and that you will be okay, because Usopp knows what it’s like. He eventually got out and Usopp will be right by yourself to get you out.
“It’s difficult.. you feel like everything’s crashing down on you and you just can’t handle it.. I get it.. but [Name].. you have to believe it’ll get better! I promise it will! And I, God Usopp, will be right there beside you when you do.. I promise.”
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3. Marco The Phoenix
— He immediately knows something is wrong when you’re being distant from him so he’d confront you. He’d tell you to meet him on the main deck late at night and when you show up, he’s standing there and kneels down away from you. He’d tell you to get on and before you could react when you did, he’s immediately jumping and now soaring into the sky, flying in circles above the ship with you on his back.
You’re holding onto him tightly and as much as you are scared, you’re actually enjoying it which makes Marco smile before finally questioning you and your distance lately. You’re quiet before you finally admit the truth, Marco listening intently as he flies around calmly. When you tell him about your troubles and anxieties, Marco is calm and he just has the softest smile you’ve ever seen.
“So that’s what it is-yoi..” he would fly for a bit longer before going down gently onto the deck and set you down. Marco isn’t one for hugging, especially not an open area like the deck, but that’s what he does, only for a quick second. He takes your hand in his and gently kissed the back of it. “[Name]-yoi, you should have just came to me..” he leads you to his room and sets you down on the bed and sits beside you, laying you down.
“Feel free to cry, rant or sleep. I won’t judge you, all of us have been through these rough times.. it’s hard-yoi.. but, we’re in this together. So next time, just come to me, okay-yoi?”
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2. Donquixote Rosinante / Corazon
— His long limbs and tall body, ROSI IS PERFECT to have by your side when you need comforting. Rosi would take a bit of time to realize something is wrong, especially when he’s gone for so long. The day he is finally coming home, he calls you up like usual and asks how you’re doing.
He would be so happy and cheery that he nearly misses the quiet sniffle and quiet, sad tones in your voice when you talk and it breaks his heart and makes him panic. Obviously when he asks, you tell him it’s because you’ve been feeling lonely, since Corazon has been gone for so long. You just want to be in his arms and feel at ease and safe.
Rosinante’s crushed heart is slowly swelling with warmth and love at your confession and just then, the door opens. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m home then, [Name].”
You would be in such shock that you didn’t notice him standing by the doorway with his arms spread and ready for you to hug, which you quickly do. You’re running to him at full speed and jumping onto his tall body, with his long arms quickly wrapping around your torso tightly and he’d fall onto the ground to sit you on his lap.
Tears are streaming down your cheeks rather quickly and you just grip the fabric of his shirt in your hands and bury your face in his chest.
“I’m sorry for not coming home sooner.. Work took longer than expected..” his smile softens as he closed his eyes and pets your hair, securing you closer. “But no worries, my love. I’ll be with you from now on. I’m not going anywhere, unless it’s with you.”
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1. Monkey D. Luffy
— I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Luffy is one of the best captains ever because he OBSERVES. he’s a huge dumbass, strong as fuck dork and just a weird playful kind of guy who cares and would do anything for his family and crew, so underneath all of that is a observing, self-conscious and sweet kind of person that you would die for honestly.
Luffy knows something wrong immediately but can’t exactly pinpoint it, he just knows that you aren’t yourself. But overtime, he realized that you’re dealing with a lot of personal pain and it kind of destroys him. Is he failing as a captain? As a friend? Figuring it was a personal problem, Luffy waits until you’re alone at night and walks up to you.
You see him and greet him until he walks up close and stands there. And then, he raises his arms and hugs you. Tightly. He stretches his arms to double loop them and just stands there with his arms around you in silence.
You’re stunned, about to laugh it off and pull away when his voice reaches your ears.
“[Name]. It’s okay. You can cry. No ones around to judge you. You can let it out now. In front of me.”
Though you were shocked, all the built up stress and pain you’ve been storaging suddenly breaks at those words and you find tears dripping down your cheeks from your eyes. Many falling much faster than the previous ones before you’re sobbing into his shoulder, standing there with Luffy hugging you silently, his hat lowered to cover his eyes.
“Never..never forget that I.. we are here for you, [Name].”
-
A/N : you guys I want to write a comfort fic but I don’t have the energy to do so, so can someone please recommend me some comfort fics? :/
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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 4 years
Note
Hey there author! Could you maybe do headcannons for being stuck in a locked/stuck in a room with Dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, and fyodor. Individually or as a group?
 Okay, so I'll do both, all together, then individually. Not sure if you wanted relationships anon, so I did give them relationship stuff in the individuals.
Let’s be realistic. Being stuck in a room with all four of those boys… you're asking for trouble XD.
First, there is going to be a lot of glaring and attempts to kill each other. If somebody (most likely you) doesn't step in then somebody is dying or at least getting severely injured.
Akutagawa is going to try and prove himself to Dazai. So he’ll either attack you or him. (why not Fyodor? Akutagawa isn’t a dumb-ass, that's why. He knows he’d probably end up dead. Though if it came down to it he’d probably end up attacking him just for the hell of it.)
Dazai will just sit back and watch. Don’t worry he’s already thinking and predicting things. 
Of course, there is Chuuya… he’s shouting and annoying the brunette but it isn't anything he’s not used to.
If you're in the ADA, Dazai's ready to step in and help you. The same could be said if you were in the Mafia. Though, it wouldn’t be his priority. If you're with Fyodor… yeah he’ll just leave Akutagawa to deal with you.
Chuuya would ignore you unless you were in the mafia.  In that case, he’d move from being an angry bomb with Dazai to an angry dog trying to keep Akutagawa from killing his comrade. He’d stay clear of Fyodor.
Akutagawa doesn't care. He’ll attack you for the hell of it. If you're part of the mafia, I'm sure you’d find a way to piss him off.
Once the arguing ends and the two highly intelligent males *cough* Fyodor and Dazai. *cough* will be figuring how to get away from their situation.
Don’t even bother trying to help. Fyodor will A- kill you or, B- completely ignore you. Dazai’s just gonna ignore you.
The solving problems come only after Chuuya's already attempted to kick down a wall with his gravity manipulation. Might as well add Akutagawa using Rashoumon to help him. If that doesn't work, they will silently rely on Dazai and Fyodor to stop their mental war of glaring, and snarling at one another.
If you all manage to get out alive, it will be one of those 'everybody goes separate ways' situations. You know you’ll all share that “this never happened" look.
Dazai-
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Oh lord, stuck alone with Dazai.
He’d be his usual self. Ask for a double suicide, flirt, then get to work.
If you got unlucky he’d be in one of the “just wait till Kunikida comes to unlock the door.” 
If you happen to be with Dazai at the time, he'll take the time to either hold you close, or get a little on the intimate side.
I can imagine Dazai sitting there brushing his hand through your hair before kissing you softly. It would be silent but the privacy of being locked in the room would be nice.
He may talk here and there while you two wait to be rescued, but he’d be quiet most of the time. Either trying to figure out how to get out or just lost in his thoughts.
If you started to get tired or cold, he'd do whatever he could to make sure you were both safe and doing alright.
When somebody does show to unlock the door of the room, Dazai will carry you out of there. He doesn't care if you can stand or if you're conscious. He’s going to carry you out of there.
If nobody comes and you start to show signs of discomfort, he'll stop lazing around and solve his way out of the room. When he finds the way out, he'll take you with him.
Chuuya
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Loud
That room is going to be filled with indescribable cursing and shouts of frustrated anger.
Once he’s done being pissed at himself, or whoever got you two in this situation, he'll start trying to get out. Looking for windows to shatter or weak points in the steel walls. He’ll use his ability to. When that doesn't work he’ll pout
Yes, Chuuya will pout like an adult child. He’ll storm over to the wall and just kick it over and over.
You’ll have to pull him away.
He’ll grumble about how useless this situation is and how annoying it all is.
He won’t admit it, but he doesn't mind being stuck there with you. (tsundere Chuuya)
He will not let you out of his sight.
If you don’t know the reason behind being locked in here, he fears somebody may hurt you.
If after you’ve both sat there trying to figure this out, neither of you have a solution. You’ll have to be the one to toss the towel. That means grabbing your phone to request backup. 
Chuuya will try to prevent this, he’ll never hear the end of it from the others when they find out about this.
While you wait, he'll be the one to fall asleep. Be prepared to take pictures, he’s an adorable sleeper!
If you chose to lay down, take the opportunity to lay your head on his chest. You may find he self-consciously wraps his arms around you.
Don’t get too embarrassed though.
When help arrives be prepared for the snickers… if it’s Dazai who shows up. He’ll be quiet enough, so he gets photos. Oh, and you two will never hear the end of this incident.
Akutagawa
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He’ll just stand there dumbfounded for a bit.
You’ll have to gather the courage to tap his shoulder and point out the obvious
He may attack you so be careful
If he likes you, he might click his tongue and keep his distance. 
He’s going to be silent… mostly
He’ll start attacking the walls with Rashoumon.
When that doesn't work he’ll look to you for help. Of course, he won’t say he needed help. He won’t admit to any form of weakness.
When all else fails. He’ll sit down only to act like he knows what he’s doing. 
It may be awhile before he looks at you, clicks his tongue, and grumbles for you to sit with him.
You'd sit down tense, but he’d act as if you weren't there even if he was paying attention to you.
If you happened to fall asleep and fall to his shoulder, he isn’t going to move a muscle.
He’ll internally panic unsure of what to do. 
Eventually, he’ll wrap you in Rashoumon to keep you from getting cold.
He’d call one of his underlings for help. Most likely Higuchi.
The look on her face when she realizes how close you got to Akutagawa would set her off.
That woman is going to be glaring at you for months. 
Fyodor- Disclaimer… I’m not very good with his character
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If you're not a part of the decay of angels/rats in the house of the dead… let’s just say you may not find yourself walking out of here alive. That is to say, if you're not with Fyodor.
If you happen to be his s/o he’ll keep you tied to him. Literally and figuratively.
He refuses to let you form his sight. Every movement you make is tracked. His mind is working to predict what’s going on as well as solve his way out of here. If he finds a way that only gets one person out, he'll ignore it. After all, he wants to get both of you out. He refuses to be stuck alone without an eye on you. In case on the outside, somebody is waiting.
He has a lot of enemies, so if this wasn’t done by one of his own he’s going to be extra careful. He’s calm and collected even if you start to panic. He’ll make sure to calm you down.
When he does find a way out… the person who made you panic and distressed as well as take his valuable time from him isn’t going to have a good day.
Expect a blood bath.
If it were one his own trying to get you two together… he’ll glare at them, but he’d be lenient.
Despite his cold look, he can be a bit obsessive with things he holds dear. That’s why he’d hurt whoever did it despite nothing serious happening.
If you did get injured… it will be utter devastation. We're talking not just one murder but several. Anybody who dared to put you in that situation.
Hope this was okay
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un2-verse · 3 years
Text
BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)
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》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《
pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader
warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+
this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......
synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?
[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]
word count: 3k
series masterlist
part two
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Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.
You wanted to end your life.
He needed you to cherish your life.
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Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.
You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.
Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.
They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.
Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.
14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?
14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u
14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x
*LOW BATTERY*
“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.
Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.
How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?
The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.
“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.
Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”
“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.
“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.
“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.
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You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.
Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.
Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.
By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.
Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.
Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?
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You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.
Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.
As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.
Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.
Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...
Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.
“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?
“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?
Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”
“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”
Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.
Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.
The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...
You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.
Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”
You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”
You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.
How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.
Live or Die.
You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.
You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”
You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.
You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.
You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.
He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.
He had a plan.
And you’d soon find out.
Let the games begin.
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