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in-the-name-of-styles · 4 years ago

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Need You.

Author’s Note: Hello! After answering tons and tons of asks, and explaining how Tumblr had deleted the second part “Please Stay” to my one shot named “Only If” for god knows what reasons. I had to do this for you guys. I stopped writing years ago, and but kept my masterlist open for you to come and read my writings whenever you wish to. Trust me, this was so effing difficult for me to do! but I’m kind of proud that I removed the time and managed it. but let me inform you it’s not the same, because I do not remember what happened in the original one clearly. I hope this is a better and hopefully more well-written (amongst my other writings *cringe*) version of the old one.

It’s not proof read. I haven't edited it, so I’m sorry in advance for the typos.

So, guys, gals and non-binary pals, I present to you (apology for it being light years late) the part two to your favourite little creation of mine “Only If”, with a new identity... please welcome “Need You”!

Do let me know how it makes you feel in the ask box or comment section. I love reading them. Happy Reading!

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: tons of angst with tons of fluff, sensitive harry???? (or do you guys call it sub!harry nowadays??) anyways it’s a cute!harry :P !

It’s been four hours, and you still weren’t back. Though it wasn’t new for you to go for a drive after an argument with him, you often came back within an hour or two. The blizzard outside was making Harry quite anxious. Even though the fight was extreme, he wanted you back safe and sound. He now realised how harsh he was on you. You didn’t intentionally leak the song. It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone, himself included. He felt guilty over the way he yelled at you; it wasn’t like him to react like that.

Suddenly, Harry felt the need to do something special for you. Though he planned on apologising to you verbally, he wanted his actions to prove it too. He made his way to the kitchen to cook you your favourite meal. He got a hold of his phone and switched on the playlist which include all the songs both of you enjoyed. the sound of the vessels clucking against each other minimised over the song playing on through the speakers.

A smile lit up on his face as he reminisced back to the moment when you were dancing to this song while making the two of you breakfast.

FLASHBACK

Harry rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs, his dimpled smile already making its appearance when he heard your voice blasting through the kitchen entrance. He didn’t know why you bothered turning the song on so loud, you were anyways going to be louder. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, a silent laugh escaped him as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene going on in front of him.

“You say you want a good time! Well here I am, baby, here I am, baby” you belted out loud, cheeks turning red with the happiness radiating out of you. You’d decided that the whisk was your microphone of choice with batter stuck to it and everything. You’re moving those luscious hips which drive him crazy right to the rhythm of the song.

“Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me talk to me, tell me what's on your mind!” you missed a note but you don’t care. This scene right in front of him, he wished he could capture and watch it forever. Bruno Mars did bring a wild side out of you, and he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous of the multi-talented singer. He would give anything to see you like this. Knowing you’re the shy type who doesn’t enjoy too much of attention, getting to watch you like this was definitely a sight.

He walked right up to you and wrapped his arms around you slowly. You jumped in a scare, as you were lost in your own world. “Harry! You scared me.” You complained, trying to ignore the blush on you cheeks after you realised he must’ve been watching you from a far.

He nuzzled into your neck and sighed, while pressing a kiss there, “Hmm… I’m sorry, m’love. But you just looked so beautiful I didn’t want to stop you.” He murmured while pressing more kisses to your neck, then trailing them up to your jawline. “Y’ look utterly ravishing right now. Forget pancakes, instead I’ll have you for breakfast.” He smiled and went on to kiss your cheeks. His comments made you smile. He saw his chance and lightly bite the side of your cheek. You squealed and tried to push him away.

“H, stop!” you laughed. He tightened his arms around you and swayed to the beat of the song then went on to sing next lyric “Tell me baby, tell me, tell me baby what you tryna do!” he slightly lifted up your t-shirt and moved one of his hands under it, and muttered, “huh? What are you trying to do to me, baby?” and pressed yet another kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, your hands are extremely cold!” you gasped. He then turned you around to face him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him. The two of you smiled quietly towards each other, then he leaned down to kiss you properly. You shifted one of your hands into his the nape of his neck and the other went on to cup his cheek. He moved one of his around your shoulder and the other around your waist. Both of you sighed and bathed in each other’s presence.

“G’morning, froggy” you teased as pulled away first and smiled up at him. He frowned and tutted, then smacked your ass lightly. You always teased him for his morning face, said it looked like a cute frog. He rubbed the area he spanked and quickly pecked you once again before pulling away to look at you.

Brushing away the hair stuck to your face, “Morning, precious. How’re you feeling?” he asked, hugging you towards his chest. Let’s just say the rest of the day went on just like this. Him being needy for your attention, and you loving on him without any hold backs.

END OF FLASHBACK

Right as he was getting ready to plate the dish, the doorbell rang. He smiled, happy to finally have you home. He quickly washed his hands and walked up to the door as he rubbed his hand dry with the towel which was once on his shoulder. He buzzed you in thinking you’ll unlock the main door with the security code. But after two minutes of waiting and not seeing you walk through the door, he turned on the camera above his buzzer to see what was wrong.

He frowned when he saw two police officers standing outside his door. His heart suddenly started racing at rapid speed. He rushed towards the door and unlocked them. Coming face to face with the two sombre looking men, he tentatively asked, “G’ evening, officers. How may I help you?”

The two men exchanged looks and the tall one replied, “Sir, there has been an accident and we found an ID on the victim. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N residence? we’re here to inform you about the unfortunate event.”

“I-I don’t understand? What happened?” he stuttered, his legs almost felt as if they were about to give up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have much information for you. May we ask what’s your relation to the victim?” the other officer asked, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Fiancé.” He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his panic attack rising. “I’m her fian-” he shook his head, “Just tell me where she is please…” he pleaded and quickly put on his shoes. He took his car keys and raced up to his rover.

“She’s over at St. Thomas, Mr. Styles.” The officers had clearly recognised the distressed man. “Here’s her ID. We hope everything is well.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to thank them as he started his car and backed out of the parking spot. He raced up to the hospital, and once he reached, he ran up to the reception.

“Y-Y/N Y/L/N? S-She just c-came in? I’m her f-fiancé?” He gasped out your name. The lady was busy tending to others to notice him. “Hey! Hey! Please ma’am just tell me where she is!” he was on the verge of weeping in front of her.

The old lady looked at him with a bit of annoyance, “Take a breath, young man. I’m trying my best here!” She walked up to him. “Now tell me, what was her name again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” He rushed. He couldn’t stand straight. Once he got what he wanted, he ran towards the elevator, up to the fifth floor. The corridor was busy and he couldn’t care less about pushing people aside. He just wanted to get to you as soon as he could. He found your door and barged in, not caring about the doctors around your bed.

“Y/N!” He rushed to your side, dropping beside your bed.

“Sir you can’t be her-” the male nurse tried to pull him back.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, precious!” He cried, trying to get the man off of him and get back to you. “I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere- GET OFF ME. SHE NEEDS ME!” he yelled pushing the guy away.

“Hey man you’re no good to her at the moment yeah? Let the doctors do their job!” the nurse tried to make him understand while pulling him back yet again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to reach to you. He sobbed over your state, blood was streaming down your forehead, and all he wanted to do was protect you and wrap his arms around you.

“No I need to be here! Please let me!” he cried. All of sudden a beep brought his cries to a halt. He looked around frantically wanting to know what had happened. “W-What’s wrong?!” he hiccupped.

The doctor and the nurses around him started rushing around the room. He then heard those words which made his heart stop, “She has flat-lined! Someone pass me the defibrillator!” the doctor raised his voice.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. The nurse had enough of the unwilling man and pushed him out the door, “Sir we cannot help her if you’re being difficult. Please calm down and go to the waiting room. We will inform you about her doing as soon as we can.” and then shut the door to his face. Harry could no longer see you. The group of doctors, covered your body.

He slid down the wall next to your door and sobbed into his hands. Only if he would’ve stopped you from leaving. Only if he would’ve told you that he forgives you and that he loved you more than anything. Only if he would’ve let the argument die and kiss you instead. Only if…

Later, the upset man walked himself to the toilet. He caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t care about his red swollen eyes, his sweaty forehead and matted hair. The image of you lying on that bed yet again brought tears to his eyes. The thought of you not making it made him retch and he rushed into one of the restrooms. He dry-heaved and cried. Once he was able to breathe, he took out his phone.

Sniffling as he dialled the only number he could think of, The voice on the other side made him breakdown. “Mum I-” he couldn’t complete his sentence, as he tried to wipe his eyes.

“Harry? Darling what’s wrong?!” she asked shocked at her son’s rapid breathing.

“Y/N s-she is- Mum I can’t lose her. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her leave. What if she doesn’t make it?” He wept while running his sticky fingers through his hair.

“Love, what-” she tried to ask him, but he cut her off.

“What if she…What if she dies, mum?” he cried and coughed.

His mother had figured out by now that you were not okay, and might be admitted in the hospital. She tried to calm her son through the phone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t near him and by the time she would reach it might not be enough. So she did the only thing she could once Harry hung up the phone, she rang up his friends.

Harry sat himself down on one of the wating room chairs. No one was telling him anything, he had no idea how you were doing or if you were okay. He was out of tears, and soon enough the exhaustion took over him. He didn’t even realise when he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand brush the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw his two friends crouching in front of him.

“Hey buddy…” Louis smiled softly. Harry jolted back up, and got up to run towards your room. But before he could stand up straight Mitch stopped him. “H, they just came in here to inform us about her condition.”

“How’s she? Is she okay? Is she awake? She needs me, I need to be beside her.” He rushed. His two close friends, tried to calm him down.

“They said she’s stable now, mate. But we aren’t allowed to meet her yet, okay?” Louis stated.

Harry took deep breaths and looking at their extremely destressed friend, Louis pulled him into a hug. Getting the comfort he desperately needed, Harry started sobbing again. He was tired of crying but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Everything is going to be okay, Harry. She’s our little tigress, she’s going to pull through, yeah?” Mitch ran a hand drown his friend’s shoulder. Harry nodded lightly and tried to slow down his heart.

48 Hours Later

It’s been two days, yesterday Harry was allowed to visit you since they moved you out of the ICU. Thankfully, your internal recovery was rapid, and you could wake up anytime. He was getting a bit impatient. He wanted to see you open those shiny eyes and look at him the way you always did, with so much love that made him giddy and flustered. These past two days he’s been talking to you, continuously apologising for his behaviour, and how he’s going to make up for everything that went wrong. You just had to come back to him.

“and then Louis got frustrated because Mitch was not answering him. But that’s Mitch for you, right?” he slightly smiled and ran the hand which wasn’t holding you hand, through your hair. “You’re going to hate your hair, once you wake up. You always like them a certain way, don’t you? But don’t you worry, I’ll help you wash your hair as soon as you wake up and come back home.” He stated and kissed your hand. He was silent for a while, just continued to run his hand through your hair.

“You’re going to come back to me, right precious?” he asked quietly, “Why aren’t you waking up, huh? Your froggy needs you to open your eyes....” he continued, as he forced a laugh out of his throat which had a huge lump in it. His eyes turned misty as he continued, “I hate it here. Seeing you like this is a nightmare. I miss you so much. I miss you calling me annoying little names. I miss you smacking me when I’m being a narcissistic little prick. I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, and even though it’s just been two day, I feel like it’s been forever. Wake up, baby. Please…” he pleaded.

As the day turned into night, Harry decided to stay back. He asked for an extra blanket and a pillow for his makeshift bed on the couch. He didn’t know why he bothered because he spent the entire night sitting beside you, holding your hand as he fell asleep leaning against it.

You could listen before you could see. The only thing you could hear was the air conditioner and someone lightly snoring against your right hand. You tried to move your fingers as you opened your eyes. The bright light made you squint, you blinked rapidly as your vision cleared. You turned to your right and saw Harry’s peaceful face sleeping against your hand. You felt the need to clear your throat, and your eyes searched the room for a glass of water. But the sound made Harry wake up from his sleep. He lifted his face and wiped the little drool from his face and the little amount on your hand.

“whoops, you’d kill me now if you were awak-” he turned to look at your face, and he had to double take. He gasped, almost falling off this chair. “Y/N…Oh my- you’re awake!” he nearly yelled. He pressed the button to call the nurse and then cupped your face going on to press kisses to your face, “Baby I was so scared. I thought I had lost you!” He laughed his airy laugh and looked at you with utter happiness.

For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The words he said to you were the only thing swimming through your mind. For you time had stood still, like the fight had happened mere hours ago. You moved your face away from his hands. Harry frowned noticing this change in your mood.

“Hey what’s wrong? The doctor is on her way, yeah. Do y’need anything?” he asked frantically following your eyes round the room. He saw you eye the plastic cup beside your bed, “Y’ want water? Hold on I’ll get it for you.” He ran to the other side and brought the cup up to your face. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were until the first sip hit your throat, you started gulping it down quickly.

“Take it easy, precious. They took out the tube just yesterday.” He explained softly.

Once your thirst was quenched he kept the cup aside then went on to pull his sleeve over his knuckles and wiped the wet corners of your mouth. You moved your face aside yet again, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. But before he could ask you, the doctor came in to check on you. She did her tests and asked a few questions. She left as soon as she was done, and told you even though the injury looked worse than it actually is, you had take it easy for a couple of days.

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, “How’re you feeling, love?” he asked quietly. You nodded, “I’m okay.” He came up to you and raised his hand to caress your cheek. But before he could touch you, your head turned to the opposite side. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he asked you.

“Will you please look at me? What’s happened, precious?” as he caressed your hair.

“Why should I look at you, Harry? So you can tell me how careless I am, or how I’m not trustworthy?” you rasped quietly. For a minute he was unable understand what you were trying to say. Then flashbacks from your fight the other night came back rushing to him. The things he said to you, and how guilty he felt later. His words had left a huge impact than he thought they did.

He took your face in his hand with very much to little force, he had to tell you this, “Y/N y’have absolutely no idea for how sorry I am for that night-” but you didn’t let him complete.

“That’s only because I got into this accident.” You snapped. He shook his head rapidly, he saw you getting worked up over this. You’ve always been a little firecracker, and you never failed to tell him when he was being a dick or to defend yourself quite amazingly, he always loved that quality. Apropos, he couldn’t let you hurt yourself in this condition.

“First of all, please calm down-” he started, “don’t tell me to calm down, harry!” you raged. He hated himself for smiling when you’re clearly very upset. But for the past few days he had to witness you lie there lifeless which had taken a toll on his mental state. He loved the fact that you were awake, so you yelling at him was more of a reward than a punishment. You looked at him sharply and saw him not taking you seriously, this brought tears to your eyes.

You sniffled and looked away from him to rest your head against the pillows on the raised up side of your bed roughly. Harry’s small smile melted away as quickly as it appeared. He rubbed the side you almost banged to the pillow, “I’m so sorry, precious. I swear I did not mean anything I said.” He pleaded and took a seat down on the chair beside you.

Right then the nurse which pushed him out of the room the other day and now was much like a friend to him entered the room with a tray which had a bowl of soup and jello in it. Harry smiled at him gratefully and took the tray from him as the guy set up the table on your bed.

“How’re you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked once he was ready to leave. You gave him a small smile and said you were feeling better. The moment he left Harry looked back at you with a longing look on his face, when you refused to look at him he sighed and set the tray down on the small table and took a seat in front you on the bed. He looked at you as he removed the metal spoon from its cover, and then went on to remove the cover set on top of the soup. He blew light air on the spoonful of soup, then brought it up to your mouth. You refused to touch it. He sighed and looked at you pleadingly, “Y’ know someone told me we shouldn’t remove our anger on food.” He stated, turning your words against you.

You glared at him in anger for minute as he looked at you with a loving smile. “Please?” He moved it closer to your mouth, “You’ve got to eat it, I’m not budging unless you do, Y/N.”

Even though you wanted to stay stubborn, you were kind of hungry. So you let him feed you the soup. When he got to the jello, you refused profoundly. “But it’s the chocolate flavoured one! Remember the time we used to share one when I was here for my fractured foot? C’mon we’ll share this one too, if y’want?” he tried convincing you with his soft eyes.

“I don’t want to share it with you. Actually, I don’t want anything to do with you at the moment to be completely honest.” you snapped. You were aware of the fact that you were being very unreasonable and bitchy but it was his words that has caused extreme hurt to you. Your words hurt Harry, and it was evident on his face. He wrapped up the jello and cleared everything. The day passed, and in the evening your last visitor entered the room.

“There she is!” Louis came up to you and hugged you lightly, making sure not to hurt you. “Hello, darling. How’re you?” he kissed your forehead. Harry left you alone with him as he went to get the two of them some coffee.

“What’s happened to him? Why the long face still? I mean I get that Harry loves to pretend that he’s this macho man and all. S’ a bit ridiculous to be honest. Like who’s he kidding, he’s a puppy.” Louis laughed. You smiled at this.

“I’m still a bit upset with him over our fight. So I haven’t been talking to him.” You explained. Louis frowned at this and then sighed, “Oh love don’t do that... This has been very tough for him. Should’ve seen his state these past few days. The man has been a mess ever since the officers came to your house that night.”

“I’m trying, Lou. But I just can’t forget all the things he said. I was so hurt, I still am!” you rubbed your forehead, as it was beginning to give you an ache.

“He’s very sorry, Y/N. Trust me when I say that I’ve never seen him like I saw him that day. He just wanted you to wake up. He was just blaming himself, how he shouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He took a hold of your hand, “he loves you so much, darling. He’s absolutely mad over you.” He rubbed your hand, “A’bit obsessed if you ask me. If I were you I’d have him get that checked with a therapist.” He joked, you laughed loudly. He smiled with you, and passed you the water you signalled for.

“Forgive him, Y/N. He can’t even bring himself to go home. The only time he went there was to get some clothes, and to put the dinner he made for you in the rubbish bin.” He sassed. “and I know I’m speaking for Mitch too here when I say this, but both him and I could use a break from all the non-stop stress weeping calls we’ve been getting from him.” You gasped at him with a mock offence for Harry, and lightly smacked his shoulder. You were always thankful for Louis in moments like these. He was a great friend to you and Harry.

Harry came back with two coffees and passed one to his blue-eyed friend. He took a seat on the sofa which was against the wall, and the three of you, though it was mostly you and Louis, had a light conversation while the men finished up their coffee. Louis bid his farewell with another kiss on your forehead and a well wish, you thanked him and waved goodbye. Harry walked him out the door, and came back in a second later.

“Y’ need anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the chair beside you. You shook your head as you observed him fidgeting with the cuticles of his nails. He did that when he was anxious.

Neither of you spoke for a while. But the minute you heard a sniffle, you snapped your head towards him. You tried to get a look at his face, the tip of his nose was a bit red and he was now fidgeting with his feet too. He wasn’t crying but he sure was on the verge of it.

You suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. You leaned against your bed and sighed, smiling a little. It’s pathetic how in love you were with each other. You couldn’t even stay mad at him.

“Harry?” You whispered softly. He hummed without looking up. So you continued, “I need you to do something” you faked a stern voice to play with him a bit more.

“Yeah sure, what’s it?” he muttered as he got up and rubbed his hands down his thighs, then finally looked at you. You looked at him without an expression and said, “I need you to come here and give me a good cuddle, a kiss too if I like the cuddle.” And then smiled at him lovingly. He looked at you for a second. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but the opposite happened. He started tearing up and heavy tear drops ran down his cheeks.

You gasped and quickly leaned forward to take a hold of his hand which was near you. “Oh Harry..” You whispered as you pulled him near you. He the minute you sat him in front of you, he started crying heavily. You were so shocked yet you’ve never been more mesmerised by him. You quickly tried wiping his tears away and comforted him, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m not upset anymore!”

“I-I’m honestly s-sorry! I promise I didn’t mean what I said that day, Y/N!” he tried to speak while wiping his tears.

“I know, babe. I know!” you tried to say it properly but it came out in a laughing manner and tried to draw the crying man close to you, but seeing you laugh made him more upset and he pushed you away lightly, so you forcefully pulled him into a cuddle.

He told himself he’s letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was actually because he wanted you close, so he went in head first. You lay down against the pillows and cuddle him against your chest. He went on sniffling into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Harry why are you crying!�� you tried controlling your laughter. He whined and pulled his face away, “Y’were so fucking mean since the moment you woke up. I didn’t expect it.” He said and hiccupped, thanks to the sobbing breakdown he just had. You pulled on your lips so you wouldn’t smile.

“Well now you know, honey. It hurts, doesn’t it? You were so mean to me too!” You teased. He nuzzled back into your neck, pressing kisses there which always made you giggle.

“I’m really sorry, precious. Honestly, I really am.” He said into your neck, yet producing another hiccup. You couldn’t control yourself anymore so you smiled and pressed a quite a few smooches to his temple, and inhaled his comforting scent.

“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry for my foolish mistake too, I really didn’t mean to ruin your hard work like that.” You apologised. He pulled away and brought the hand that was around your waist to your cheek and said, “I forgave you a long time ago, but you honestly don’t have to apologise at all. It could happen to anyone, m’love. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Y’know I made dinner and everything as an apology. But then the officers…” his tone dropped and he couldn’t continue. So, you sadly smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He sighed and reciprocated the kiss with so much love and passion that you couldn’t help but wrap the arm which around his shoulder a bit more tighter and ran the other through the back of his head gently. The two of you pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, he moved the hair that escaped from your braid and tucked it behind your ear, “I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.” He whispered softly, and swallowed the small lump, “I missed you a lot, baby” he said and you couldn’t help but peck his cute pout.

“I missed you too, froggy” you replied. The pet name made him reward you with a dimpled smile. He nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“and I love you.” You kissed his forehead.

“Just for your information, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a really long time.” He stated sternly.

You laughed but stopped when you saw he wasn’t joking, “You know I have to work, right?”

“Y’can easily take a break for a month or two.” He said, as he yawned and cuddle closer to you. “A MONTH OR TWO?! Have you gone mad?” you gasped, lightly pulling on his hair.

“No I haven’t. Try to get rid of me, baby. I dare you.” He laughed a scheming laugh. You knew he wasn’t joking. He tended to become quite paranoid and obsessive over you when situations like these occur. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We’ll see, mister.” You said, and caressed the back of his head.

“oh we will, missus.”

The End.

Author’s Note: I really put in a lot of efforts on this one, so you guys kind of owe me *wink* y'all gotta humour my praise kink now!!! ;P

Love you guys!

511 notes · View notes

90stvshowgoth · 4 years ago

Text

—BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: after dabi was seen leaving your apartment complex last week, the commission has sent a lesser known hero to help guard the building until new cameras are installed. however, no security measures in the world could keep dabi out.

w/c: 5064

tags: dubcon, cuckolding, creampie, voyeurism, humiliation, exhibitionism, arson

a/n: this is the final chapter to this little duology, and the reason why its so much shorter is because the first one was really supposed to stand on its own, but i got so many requests for a sequel i couldn’t help it. so i just took the kinks i didn’t get to use last time and pay off some setup and voila. however, just ‘cause this is the last chapter of this story doesn’t mean i’m not gonna write a fuck ton of other stuff for him. ily burn man. plus i’m working on a huge, multi-chapter fic for him while i post smaller one-shots >:) that being said, enjoy.

The impact Dabi left on your life was far bigger than you thought it would’ve been on the night you snuck him away from the law. As he was running from the cops someone saw him climb through your window, and a different person also saw him climb down the fire escape. With witnesses like that, the other tenants were downright furious.

You almost felt bad for the landlord, it wasn’t his fault you were insane enough to willingly let a villain come inside both you and your apartment.

Your landlord and the police department came up with a solution. The apartment complex would be installing new state-of-the-art locks on all fire-escape adjacent windows free of charge. This wasn’t exactly an issue with seeing Dabi again, since all you had to do was purposefully leave yours unlocked.

It would take two weeks to install all the cameras, but until then, a community-assigned hero would be stationed to guard the complex.

His name was Kao, a middle-ranked hero with bright orange hair and a winning smile framed with dimples. At first you thought he might’ve been one of the better heroes, waving you off to work and walking you there the other day, but recently he’d begun to creep you out. The friendly conversations about a tv show you both enjoyed began to turn into invasive questions about your love life.

A week of lingering glances and uncomfortable prying culminated that Friday as he had flat out asked you to dinner moments prior.

“C’mon, I just— I said that wrong, lemme try again,” He stuttered, keeping pace with you as you marched towards the building.

“No, Kao, look, you’re cool and all, but I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” You huffed, striding into the doorway and towards the elevator. That might not’ve been the whole truth but you obviously couldn’t tell him that you had the hots for a terrorist.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well you just got off work, right? I remember which room you stay in, maybe I can swing by tonight?”

You whirled on him, your jaw slack in shock at the insensitivity of his words. The reminder that he knew where you lived sending a shiver down your spine, “Kao, this conversation is done. I don’t want you following me around anymore, hero,”

Deep down, your words sounded familiar. If they were raspier and said behind a thin veil of indifference, you might’ve realized that you were talking like Dabi.

“What is that supposed to mean? We’re the good guys!” You slammed your fist down on the close-door button, your mouth a thin line, daring Kao to make a move and stop the doors. He didn’t, and soon the reassuring pull of the elevator set your shaking body at ease.

‘Who does he think he is?�� You were bitter, rightfully so, you think.

You were so frustrated that you had difficulty inserting your keys into the lock, twisting it with a growl and throwing open the door, ready to collapse onto your pillow and vent to whoever was online about your heroic stalker.

When you noticed the scent of cigarettes in the air.

“Hey, doll,” Warmth surged through your chest at the sight of him, the villain’s feet kicked up onto the coffee table.

You were hanging your coat on the hook before moving beside him to the couch, “What took you so long?”

“Not happy to see me? You seem a lot bitchier than I remember,” The crude edge of his humor was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling niceties of work, and you smiled for what felt like the first time that day.

Shaking your head, you toed out of your boots and made your way to the frayed couch, “I’ll tell you all about him,”

That got his attention, “Him?”

“A hero,” Dabi’s frown worsened, an accusatory look in his eyes, “before you ask, no, you idiot, I hate this guy, there’s not a chance I’d sleep with him.”

The tensity in his shoulders relaxed, bring the half-finished Newport to his lips as you continued, “Since you broke in last week all my neighbors lost their shit. They threatened to sue if my landlord didn’t assign a hero to watch the building for a bit. I thought he was cool, but I’ve just decided that he’s a total prick.”

He hummed, nodding understandingly, “Want me to kill him?”

You gaped, hitting him on the chest, “Wha—No, Dabi, what the hell?”

He just shrugged, the intensity of his words almost funny to you, and as you recounted the last twenty minutes the ashes of Dabi’s cigarette fell to the floor. The dying lights of the sun streamed through your window, the smoke oddly beautiful in the glow as he handed you the last hit of his cheap cigar.

“You know why heroes are like that?” You shook your head, enjoying the numbing calm of tobacco, “It’s cause they’re spoiled. They go their entire lives being praised for everything they do so they don’t know how to take no for a fuckin’ answer,”

Apparently your smoking buddy was feeling talkative, much to your delight. His words made you pause, remembering the relieved faces of your neighbors whenever they’d see the gaudy costume Kao wore as he strode by.

“Shit... guess you’re right,” You mumbled into his side, not minding the ever-present aroma of burnt skin and smoke that clung to Dabi’s coat.

He scoffed, “I’m always right, baby,” His words earning him a pinch on the arm.

“No, you ass, just about the hero stuff,” He grinned, the staples on his dimples taut against his skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Careful, doll, you’re starting to sound like a villain,” The drop in your stomach sent heat down your skin, yet somehow you were still shivering under his predatory gaze.

You shook your head, trying to will away the red that dusted your cheeks, “No way, my quirk isn’t strong enough to be a villain,”

He raised his eyebrow expectantly, broadly gesturing for you to go on.

“Well...” God, why is this embarrassing? “I can give people headaches.”

You didn’t know if he would laugh at you or belittle you for your meaningless quirk, but he did neither.

“Think you could practice it more? Get better at it?” He was serious, staring at you and expecting an answer.

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, “I mean, maybe? It’s not hard to do, I guess,”

Dabi smirked, pulling you onto his lap. It felt as if the week hadn’t happened at all and you were right back where you started, your face flushing at the memories of that night. He dragged you close, eyes dark as he whispered something into your ear...

“Think you could split someone’s head open with a migraine?”

Your gut wrenched, flinching at the gory idea and making you sit up in Dabi’s lap. The atmosphere in the room hadn’t changed, his stare as menacing as before.

That is, until he started to crack up. Louder than you’d ever heard before, his fit filled the apartment until he had to cup his stomach from laughing too hard; the wheeze in his rough throat echoing around the room as your blush spread all the way down your neck.

“Oh, you asshole!” If anything, your shove against his chest only made him more giddy. The panic-fueled adrenaline was still surging through your body, unwillingly making the wetness between your thighs spread, even as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that Dabi had been fucking with you.

Your legs shook as he held on to you for balance, his cackling dying down but the shit-eating grin never leaving his face, “You were so freaked out, huh?”

“Yeah, no shit!”

He hummed, running a hand through your hair and suddenly yanking you forward, basking in the sharp yelp it brought from you, “You’re cute when you’re scared,”

You’d missed the way his scabbed lips felt on yours more than you’d ever admit. There was something about him that left you breathless, eager and questioning your life choices. Groaning into his mouth before pulling back and laving your slick tongue along his disfigured lower lip, you rolled your aching heat against him to force a truly pornographic moan from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck—” One of his hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass through your jeans, “Fucking hell, you missed me that much?”

You nodded dumbly into his shoulder, pressing chaste kisses along the ragged skin as he slid his finger past the band of your jeans, cupping your dripping sex with wide eyes.

“Goddamn, s’no way you’re this wet for me already,” His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to figure out why you were hiding into his neck, “What’s got you so worked up, doll?”

You couldn’t come up with a good excuse in time, Dabi thinking back to how your thighs had tightened up when he asked if you could kill someone, your eyes were frightened back then, yes, but there was something else. Something you wouldn’t tell him.

When the realization hit him, it hit hard.

“Holy shit, you get off on being scared?” He couldn’t believe his luck, the embarrassed groan you buried into his shoulder confirming his suspicions.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, a childish wonder over his features, “Aren’t I fuckin’ lucky?” He sneered, pulling you back til you were at eye-level again.

“I’m gonna try something, baby,” there was an edge to his voice as he settled one hand on the small of your back, pressing your tits against his chest as he held your bra strap back with the other.

“What are you… Dabi, what are you doing?” The scent of fire and burning fabric filled the air, the ends of your bralette smoking between his fingertips, embers turning to ash and sprinkling down the couch until it was flimsy enough for Dabi to rip free, teeth sinking into your neck as he held you still to keep your skin safe.

It was jarring and a bit terrifying to be restrained against someone like Dabi without knowing his intentions. But nothing in you could deny the blinding rush of pleasure it ripped down your spine.

“It’s all starting to make sense, doll-face, I guess I was right the first time,” His hands tossed the smoking bra into hallway, reaching between you and torturously pinching and pulling on the rosy blush of your tits, “you do have a thing for villains,”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy again, doll,” Without warning he shoved your torso forward, your body bouncing against the couch, his hands flying to the button of your jeans.

“—Didn’t have time to take you right last time, didn’t get to taste you,” his words made you whimper in his grasp, keeping your legs somewhat raised as tugged down the tight denim.

You fully expected him to take you rough like before, make you choke on his cock before having his fill, but as he tugged off your black panties he crawled down the trembling body beneath him, slowly moving over your ribs, your stomach, and finally your drooling cunt.

He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled your thighs closer, keeping them spread wide as the hot fan of his breath on your pussy sent a thrill through your neglected nerves.

“I want you to scream my name,” It was an order, not a request. The unhinged tremor in his hands was unsettling, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Dabi’s tongue immediately found your clit, mouth wrapping around the glistening bead and sucking all at once, the moan it drew from your lips unholy. He moaned at the taste, hiking up your hips onto his shoulders.

“Christ, you’re sweet, doll, like fuckin’ candy...” He muttered in disbelief, more to himself that to you, licking a wide stripe along your drenched lips, diving into you deep enough to have your limbs spasming around him.

On instinct your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the sharp cry that the villain drew. He didn’t warn you before bringing his hand up high and slapping it into the bare skin of your thigh, a scream echoing through the living room. Distantly, you wondered if your neighbors could hear...

“Don’t you dare hide a single sound from me, slut, or this ends now,” his ultimatum was scary but the insult felt heavy in a way you’d never felt before, and you nodded without a second thought, breathlessly bunching one hand into the arm of the couch above you and the other into the ashy black of his hair.

You nodded down to him, silently saying to continue; the villain fixed on watching as your chest swelled in time with your breathing, a rush of blood going to the heat of his cock.

His pace was hungry, nipping at your thighs whenever he thought you were too comfortable, spinning circles into your clit with his tongue and chuckling at the noises it brought, “You gonna cum, princess?” You could only respond with a scream of his name, the plea music to his ears, but he needed you to be louder if he was to get what he wanted.

“Louder,” Dabi called your name like a prayer, moaning into your cunt as you practically suffocated him between your thighs, “Fuck—Louder, baby, scream it,”

“Dabi!!” Your orgasm was hot against his tongue and he drank in every last drop of your climax until you were wrenching away his greedy mouth, your pussy swollen and red from his care.

Just as you started to compose yourself, a frantic banging sounded on the door. Someone from the hallway was slamming down their fist, screaming your name.

“Hey! Did you just say Dabi?! Are you okay in there?” It was Kao.

Horror clawed away any kind of afterglow as you cupped your hand to your mouth, leaning up on your elbow and whispering, “What do I say?”

Dabi’s voice was just low enough to hide behind the pounding of Kao’s fists, “Do you trust me?”

Before you could answer the hero behind the wall called your name again.

“If you don’t answer me in five seconds I’m breaking this door down!”

Your gaze flickered from the front door to the villain that was wiping your slick from his chin.

“Yes,”

Dabi grinned, grabbing your wrists and holding you against his shirt, one hand wrapped painfully around your tits and the other erupting with blue fire in his palm.

“Come and get her, hero!” You made a confused squeal, thrashing around in his grasp, eyes wide and afraid as Dabi shushed into your ear, trying to calm you down.

‘Like hell if you’d calm down, he’d practically just signed your death sentence!’ you heaved against the fugitive, trying to shake yourself free to no avail.

All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and imagine you were somewhere else as door was jolted in its hinges, the doorknob falling with a distant clang, and before you could beg Dabi to stop whatever stupid game he was playing, Kao ran into the room, eyes furrowed and fists raised as the door squeaked on the loose hinges behind him, blissfully unaware.

“Where are y—“ Kao’s voice paused mid-sentence, you flinched in Dabi’s hold, the heat of the redhead’s stare washing over you, naked and wet, making you tilt your head down, trying to hide yourself from the world.

“Isn’t she cute, hero?” Dabi rasped against you, the heat of his fire illuminated against the sweaty sheen of your trembling body. Kao didn’t know what to do, flustered and struggling to hide the tent in his latex costume.

You knew fighting back against the villain was pointless, falling limp in the strength of his arms as he chuckled into your neck, looking over at the bump in his pants, “You were right, babe, I think he likes you,”

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Kao screamed, diving towards the couch with his fist raised back.

Dabi simply grinned, carefully hovering his flame ever closer to your now bare tits, you couldn’t help but scream at the proximity, and whatever plan Kao had in his mind died before his fist could make impact.

His novocaine laced voice spoke calmly beside your ear, “Any closer and she’s dead,” The hot rush down your legs wasn’t due to his flames, as one hand took to rubbing your sensitive sex, the sounds it elicited from you unintentional and mortifying under the presence of Kao in the room.

“What... what do you want, you bastard?” Dabi laughed at that one, tweaking your clit between his fingers and conducting the most beautiful notes from your pillowy lips.

“I think It’s pretty obvious what I want, don’t you think?” Your name on his lips sent you keening against him despite the inferno roaring inches away from your skin. He couldn’t move without Dabi’s flames hovering ever closer to your heaving chest, and to Kao, you were very clearly about to die. Although you didn’t believe Dabi would hurt you, he had asked you to trust him before he got Kao’s attention, after all, the line between foreplay and conflagration was becoming blurry.

Kao backed up into the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, barely making an effort to try and hide his erection anymore, “I’ll send you to fucking Tartarus for this, Dabi.”

“Oooo, scary,” His unlit hand trailed down your jawline, tilting you to his side until he could slide his tongue into your open lips, humming into your mouth, “What do you think, doll?

“Dabi, please... wait,“ The strength in your voice wasn’t as heated as before, and even you had to admit it sounded half-assed.

Kao’s quirk must be no good for long range because all he could do was stand there, trying to avert his eyes from your drooling cunt in favor of glaring daggers at the coy villain pulling soft mewls from your lips, “I swear... I’ll see you rot in prison for this. You’ll be fucking executed, you rapist—“

“—woah, woah, that stings, hero. Doll, is that really what I’m doin’?” You groaned, not exactly answering because you couldn’t hear the question, your eyes still shut tight in embarrassment.

The growl in his voice sent another soaking rush towards your pussy, as his hand grabbed you jaw, pulling you up, “Look at me,” Your eyes widened at the sight of Dabi so close to you, his chest warm against your back, the aches of your last orgasm fading into something new.

“Tell me to stop, princess, your call,” Time stood still as Dabi kissed a soft pathway along your neck, weirdly gentle as he listened for your response, his clothed hard-on pressed firmly against your ass.

Too flustered to speak, you merely wrenched your arm free from his grasp, carding you hand through his hair and pulling him to your desperate lips. You could feel him tug into a smirk against you as your hips eagerly ground themselves on him despite the audience.

Kao choked on his own spit, stepping backwards, but stopped when Dabi aimed his ignited hand towards the hero who was having difficulty piecing together your actions in his head. “What,” His voice cracked when he called out your name, “are you...?”

Dabi pulled away, a feral glint in the blue hidden beneath his hair as he licked a disgustingly wet stripe along your cheek, chest rumbling behind you as you squirmed at the gross feeling, “I’m still gonna need you to beg, sweetheart.”

Your dignity was hanging by a thread, hinging on whether or not you followed his lead, but the insane buzz your anxiety had stirred up under Kao’s confused stare and Dabi’s aching cock was impossible to ignore. He rut himself into the dripping curve of your ass, his jeans soaked with your slick as you found the courage to speak.

“Fuh...” Carefully, Dabi pressed a loving kiss to your temple, his stare fixated on Kao’s as you strung the syllables together, “Fuck me, Dabi,”

The hero couldn’t believe his ears. She’d turned him down countless times despite his pursuits, yet she was somehow fine with this? Kao briefly thought that perhaps his crush was a villain this whole time, but that couldn’t make sense with her weak quirk.

You felt Dabi twitch beneath you, the shameless way you showed yourself off was as humiliating as it was hot, and he laughed in lightheaded disbelief against the back of your neck, taking your ass in one hand and slipping the other down his pants, tugging off the painful metal zipper until his boxers were pulled down just enough for his cock to finally be met with the soft warmth of your cunt.

“As the lady commands,” Dabi grinned, reaching around your waist to take his pierced dick in his hand, rubbing and tapping his swollen head deliberately against your clit, pre-cum drenching your pussy as you felt boneless in his arms.

“Ah-! St..S-top tea-sing, Dabi!” You babbled, squirming to try and find an escape from his grasp or maybe trying to force him inside you, but all your struggling did was make him harder. But before you could beg, you froze at the sight of Kao a few feet away, his legs bending into a sprinter’s pose. He was going to run?

Dabi was having none of it, a controlled jet of flame grazing Kao’s knee, scalding the skin beneath the latex. The hero cried out into the bite of his fist, collapsing into the wall a few feet away.

“Nah, hero. You’re not leaving just yet,” The villain rearranged you on his lap, “See, the thought of you jerking off to my girl? It kinda pisses me off, actually,”

The color in Kao’s face drained as he had no choice but to sit and watch as Dabi slowly sunk you down on top of him, one hand drawing soft circles into your stomach as you reveled in the feeling of his piercings hot against every part of you.

“Though, I’m wondering, what did you think about, huh?” Kao sputtered, unable to form words just like you, formless noises falling from your lips.

His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, raising you up only to shove you back onto his cock, the flames that still extended to threaten Kao suddenly flared up in time with his thrusts, the weight of him felt so much deeper at this angle and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

“I... nothing! I didn’t—“ Another whip of fire cut through the room from Dabi’s fingertips, a cast of blue leaving bubbling skin in its wake, pain flashing across Kao’s face.

“Fuckin’ liar,” You yelped as Dabi shoved you down, moaning into your ear as you squeezed against him, sobbing his name into his chest as he picked up a steady pace in your guts.

Kao cried out, stuttering and gripping along the inflamed line of skin, “I-I thought— thought about her... fuck— I just wanted her to suck me off, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”

He must’ve realized the mistake in his words as soon as he said them, squeezing your eyes shut but having no choice but to smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the sound of muffled screaming as it filled your apartment, “Can’t blame you though, her mouth is God,”

Your hands scrambled for balance against Dabi as the screaming of his victim made him downright feral, filling your tight heat so well it had you crying.

“Damn, you’re soaked for me, doll, I just knew you were a kinky fuck deep down. You’re a slutty little girl for me, aren’t ya?”

As much as it hurt to admit it, he was right. He was painfully right, and you told him so. The unhinged, unstoppable force that was Dabi ignited a passion in you that’d never been fed before. He was torturing the hero you hated all while taking your cunt in deep, harsh thrusts, the metal imbedded into his cock and his chest behind you were blisteringly hot against your skin.

“Tell him, baby,” His question fell on deaf ears, your tongue lolling from your mouth a bit at the pleasure.

It caught you off guard when he drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, a blistering red handprint in its wake, saying your name so softly, turning off his quirk to run his hands through your hair, he whispered, “Tell that fucking hero who you belong to,”

The world tipped over as Dabi gripped your shoulders, pushing you onto the wooden coffee table so your ass stuck in the air. In an instant he was on you again, pounding into your cunt with a glazed fervor, your words downright biblical in his ears.

“On-ly... Dabi ca—Ngh, Only Dabi can fuck me this good,” You forced the words from your throat, thankful for the table serving as an impartial shoulder to cry on as Dabi lined himself up with your cunt.

“More, princess,” The snap of his hips had you drooling onto the table, catching sight of Kao’s slumped body in the corner as Dabi’s breath sounded much louder than before.

“Fuck, baby—” You cried, craning your neck back to look at him. Sweat glistened at the crown of his dark hair, steam shading his breath as he took you hard, “Your cock is— shit its so deep in me,”

Your nerves were spent from exhaustion as he railed you, being more vocal than before as he choked at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his fingernails digging future bruises into your hip dips, “Wanna feel you cum in me, want you to fill me up— Dabi, wanna make you feel good,”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t...” He ground his teeth together, making you squeal as he mounted you from behind, spreading your legs out wide so you had no way to hide yourself, “Gonna fuck’n cum-gonna cum in you- fuck, fuck, fuck—!“

You both hit your highs at the same time, Dabi accidentally digging your face into the wood as he held you as tightly to him as possible, his cum running hot due to his quirk as he pumped you full, that broken cry of yours like music to his ears, humping you a few times to ride out his climax.

You felt warm and safe, Dabi’s weight a comfortable blanket even with your shivering skin pressed naked into the coffee table. However, the quietly groaning hero in the corner made you quickly come back down to earth.

“Dabi... did you kill him?” Your voice was small beneath him, but he just shrugged.

“Nah, not yet, don’t worry,” He kissed your neck one more time, his thumb rubbing circles into your indented stomach, pulling you off the table and back into his arms.

He pulled out of you and grinned at the sight of his release spilling down your thighs, “Damn...” he whispered, taking in the sight with a satisfied whistle, “C’mon Doll, forget about him.”

You were grateful he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, your legs gelatin at this point, and as he laid you down to rest he grabbed one of your discarded shirts that hadn’t made it to the hamper and wiped down the remains of sex from your twitching cunt before leaving the cum-stained top ignored on the ground.

“You doing good, baby? Didn’t go too hard, did I?” His concern was diminished somewhat by the grin on his face, satisfied with the mumbling, love-drunk form he’d reduced you to.

Shaking your head, you burrowed into the warm blankets, peeking your eyes out from beyond the covers in a way that even Dabi couldn’t deny was pretty cute, “No, just... what are you gonna do with Kao?”

His face was unreadable as he leaned closer, “Do you really want to know?”

Truth be told, no, you didn’t, you were just a civilian, far removed from the complex fight between heroes and villains. You were only in this situation because you’d grown to care about Dabi. In some small, sarcastic way, he’d wormed his way into your life, and he hadn’t hurt you so far, only going as close as possible to bring you over the edge again and again.

“No...”

“Good answer,” he stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went back into the living room. You heard a muffled thud and what sounded like Dabi cursing before he reappeared in your bedroom, Kao’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. For such a wiry guy, Dabi was pretty strong. Moving to the open window he basically threw Kao’s body onto the outside metal grating, his lungs uneven after carrying him.

Just as he swung his leg onto the windowsill you shot up in your bed, hand outstretched, “Wait!”

He turned back to look at you, genuinely confused as to what you could want.

“Kiss me before you go?”

He froze, then grinned, scoffing at the innocent gesture you gave so openly to a murderer like him. There had to be something wrong with his little villain-in-training to make her okay with it, just like him. Dabi ignored that thought for another day, striding forward and finally giving you the goodbye kiss you’d been denied last time, his tongue trying to map out every detail in case he could ever forget before pulling away with a warm softness to his ocean eyes.

“I think I might be starting to like you, Doll,” A feint rush of color fell on his unmarred skin and you’re sure your heart stopped beating for a good three seconds.

His words were a worn record being played over and over in your head long after he crawled down your fire escape, the teasing, sated haze in his voice hidden beneath a rasp of smoke. You weren’t sure how much he meant what he said, but you’re sure that the first thing you said in return was exactly what he wanted to hear; at least judging from the boyish smile that lit up his face when you said it.

“Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay,”

@effmigentlywithachainsaw @touyasfatcock @thicchaikyuuboys @awritersometimes @chey-the-simp

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x reader smut #dubcon #murder #mha #my hero academia #dabi smut #touya x reader #touya todoroki

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years ago

Text

you’re someone i just want around: I

“And I can't wait another minute

I can't take the look she's giving

Your body rocking, keep me up all night

One in a million, my lucky strike.”

— Lucky Strike, Maroon 5

A/N: this idea started as just random concept drabbling between leyla @sunflowervolvimp3 and i and we never really thought it would amount to anything tbh!! but as we started putting more and more into the plot and characters, we made the spontaneous decision to make it a full on, multi-chaptered collab fic! we have so many ideas planned and so much to elaborate on and we’re just so mfing excited to share it with you guys :’) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated 💌 we hope you enjoy the first part and that you fall in love with this stupid emotionally unavailable moron the way we did! happy reading!!

andrea’s askbox : leyla’s askbox : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist :

word count: 17.2k

content/warnings: vampire!harry being a lowkey asshole while downing straight tequila like a psycho, getting to know The Crew, Mitch being the iconic legend he is, mentions of smut, and Harry working his immortal charm on an unsuspecting human girl with a peculiar scent and intriguing personality

///

Harry hates clubs.

In his two hundred years of life, through many trials and tribulations, through tricky scenarios and annoying encounters, through thousands of unappealing circumstances and patience-testing events, he doesn’t think anything quite compares to the crowded, nerve-wracking experience that is a Los Angeles club on a Friday night during peak hours.

According to his wise, humble opinion, it’s absolutely fucking petrifiying. He’d rather swallow a stake than have to spend hours in a dimly lit room with synthetic smoke choking his lungs, half-conscious humans stumbling around into him, and the stench of sweaty bodies mixed with liquor fumes, alongside the faint yet unmistakable waft of vomit.

Yeah, Harry would definitely rather eat a red oak spear than have to shoulder that.

Despite his intense hatred for this Californian city during its after-hours, he can’t deny that he fits right into the scene perfectly. Decades of grooming and practice have made him a prime candidate for the fast-paced characteristics that come with the party nightlife.

Fitting into these aspects aren’t something he had learned willingly; he didn’t really have a choice on the matter, considering his entire existence depends on mortals immature tendencies to get properly shit-faced and make stupid decisions in tightly-packed glorified bars. Harry never understood that— how a fog machine, strobe lights, and an undergrad amateur DJ could ever seem more appealing than the quiet, stable ambiance of a semi-formal bar. How deranged do people have to be to actually enjoy strangers spilling alcohol on them while attempting to shag someone else two feet away on the dance floor?

Whenever he dwells too much on that thought, he gets a spiking migraine. After this long, Harry’s just come to terms with the fact that humans are regressing as a species. His conclusion is a bit cynical, perhaps, but hardly difficult to accept. One look at a news outlet provides enough proof to launch an Ivy League research project on the matter.

He really shouldn’t be complaining, however, because the combination of overflowed close quarters and dampened inhibitions makes it the ideal hunting ground. Picking up a living blood bag at a club is basically as easy as walking through a vineyard and plucking grapes right off the stems. It’s practical, it’s fool-proof, and if he plays his cards right, he gets to feed and gets his more intimate needs tailored (a combo that he and his friends refer to as Laid and Drained).

So regardless of his distaste towards clubs and their eager inhabitants, Harry had learned to mold his persona to fit the bill, making himself as approachable and desirable as possible. His life literally hangs in the balance; he’d put up with throngs of drunk sorority girls and their affinity for shitty perfumed drinks if it means avoiding desiccation.

It’s not like it’s hard. All Harry has to do is make himself look more appealing than the other hundred men milling around the establishment, which— if he’s being brutally honest— isn’t that challenging. The moral, physical, and ethical standards of men have dropped frighteningly low since his time. Most of the ones that creep around clubs are overconfident, overzealous, boundary-lacking douchebags who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention, and therefore make complete, utter fools of themselves in the process of trying to court one into their pants. Buying a girl one Sex On The Beach and dry-humping to Daft Punk isn’t the way to convince her to come home with you.

Harry has developed his own guidelines and tactics for securing a nightly bedroom companion, and his ideas have been working wonders for him for decades now.

The first and foremost rule is to clean up nicely. Personal appearance is everything. Humans are visual creatures; they build first impressions solely based on outward attraction. That trait is enhanced the higher their blood alcohol content rises. The drunker someone gets, the shallower they become, and it’s Harry’s job to work that to his advantage. And at the risk of sounding shallow himself, he thinks he does pretty alright in that department.

Especially tonight, present in all the elements of his physique. He’s clad in a pair of high-waisted tan trousers that have been ironed to a crisp, his fitted graphic tee tucked neatly along his waistband beneath his black leather belt. His t-shirt is probably his favorite part of the entire look. It’s a baby blue sturdy cotton number with pastel yellow detailing along the cuffs and collar and a giant cartoon puppy in a striped bowtie taking up its center, smiling cheekily at the onlooker. Arranged around the doodle in faded Times New Roman bubble letters are the words WE’RE IN THE SHIT.

Harry loves the irony of the article— the innocence of the drawing juxtaposed by the crude message. The piece is a conversation-starter— people almost always comment on it— and that’s exactly what he needs. Something to draw attention to himself and shadow all the other men. Something that shows he has a personality; that he has taste and a good sense of humor and isn’t just another walking genital. Plus, what person doesn’t enjoy a funny little contradiction, especially when it’s this cute?

On top of his graphic top, he’s wearing a tartan cropped blazer (open, of course) with a creme background and royal blue lines. The hem ends at the bottom of his ribs, exactly where his pants begin, and the jacket's hand-sewn buttons and strap detailings show that it's an expensive garment. It shows that he puts money and effort into how he looks, which is something anyone would appreciate when scoping for a possible hookup.

Harry’s shoes are the most casual factor of his fit. They’re a pair of light yellow Vans that match the collar of his tee. They’re plain, but he keeps them clean and they tie the whole look together without a hitch.

Accessories are everything, as well. Aside from the pearls arranged around his prominent collarbones, the gold-dipped cross hanging from a delicate chain around his neck, and the matching dangling cross earring on his right earlobe (again, he adores irony), he’s sporting a plethora of chunky rings on his hands, each unique and effortlessly complimenting his appearance. On his left hand, his index finger dots a ruby jewel embedded into a thick rusted band, another large metal one with dancing bears on his middle, and two clunky golden letters on his last two digits— his initials, HS. On his opposite hand, he has a medium-width plated ring on his middle finger with peace engraved along its rounded edge, an elegant lionhead number with an amethyst stone snug in its mouth, and along his pinky is a decently-sized opal set into a delicate polished frame.

His two last rings are the most important of all. The lionhead is his daylight ring, which he hasn’t taken off since he transitioned. It keeps him from bursting into flames everytime the sun hits his skin. The opal was his mother’s, and it was her favorite.

Harry’s attire is something he’s immensely proud of, even though a good amount of people deem him eccentric in the eyes of modern masculinity. He couldn’t give less of a shit. With his lightly tanned skin, alluring cologne and lacquered nails, his shirt stretching across the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and tapering waist, his thick thighs, sharp jaw, jade eyes, loosely tousled chestnut curls, and the vast array of dark ink littering his arms...

He looks good and he knows it. And all the people whose gazes glue to him as he passes by know it, too. Especially a random group of young women in line, who ogle at him shamelessly as he casually strolls past. He treats them to a sly wink, an irresistible dimpled smile, and a soft, cheeky greeting of, “Ladies.”

He gets off on the way they swoon at his refined English accent, giggling and waving.

The only other component Harry has for succeeding in the club environment is simple, but it’s important: Don’t seduce, romanticize.

Anyone— even inebriated idiots— can try and seduce a woman. And if she’s had enough tequila shots to cloud her thoughts, they just might succeed. But only a real man can romanticize a girl, and it yields way better results.

Females are an emotional sect (Harry says that with zero misogyny; it’s just a scientific fact and he actually praises it), which means that if you entertain their interests and fluff their egos, they are bound to fall right into the palm of your hand. It changes the game completely because then they don’t feel that they have to pleasure you, they want to. They pursue the guy who flirts without being too vulgar, who appreciates and acknowledges their efforts, and who can go head-to-head with their wit by carrying unforced banter. They chase after him because he’s showing genuine kindness rather than just sexual interests and if he’s that attentive on the getting-to-know-you front, one can only imagine how skilled he could be in other bases. Chatting up a girl the right way, with patience and courtesy, builds credibility and prowess. And as a thank you, they’re usually more than willing to pay special attention to your needs, as well.

Thus, romanticizing is always the expert move. So, yes, Harry detests clubs and the disaster that is adult recreation. But he’s fucking amazing at playing it to his favor. He’s great at calculating everything down to the smallest detail and he’s going to piggy-back on those skills for the rest of eternity. He’s so good at what he hates that his closest friends have anointed him the title of Walking Paradox. He’s more than happy to keep it.

All of these thoughts are circulating around his skull, hyping him up for the game ahead as Harry and his friend group walk up to the bouncer at the entrance of the club they had chosen for the night, faint stars twinkling in the dark sky as the sounds and lights of the city fall away into background static.

They cruise by the long line of people, hearing sounds of disagreement and grumbling coming from the other patrons waiting to get in. Harry casually tucks his large hands into the pockets of his light brown slacks as he pulls up in front of the burly bald man, who is wearing a black shirt with the club’s name printed in neon letters. The security guard is at least five inches taller than him, overswollen biceps and pectoral muscles rippling under the flimsy material of his work outfit as he crosses his arms over his barreled chest, cocking a single thick eyebrow at the seemingly young vampire.

Harry delivers a good-natured smile up at the employee, despite the man’s obvious begrudging disbelief at what he is about to try and do. His friends chat quietly behind him, uninterested in what is happening; after years of being acquainted, they know that Harry is going to get exactly what he wants. He always does.

He’s the best of them, that much is obvious. Not only when it comes to his experience with persuading sexual partners and getting himself a decent dinner, but he’s the best at convincing just about anyone to do anything, neutral of gender. He’s the second oldest of the crew, yet he seems to have the most knowledge and practice under his belt; his easygoing charisma, undeniable good looks, and dazzling smile could sway even the most stubborn of souls. Frankly, he’s so successful in getting his way that no one cares to try and argue for the leader position. Not when they can just sit back and let Harry do all the work.

“Good evening.” Harry’s deep voice chimes giddily in the direction of the bouncer, his accent particularly heavy for no real reason. “How you doing tonight, mate?”

The guard— whose name tag reads Brock and Harry has to actively stop himself from snorting at how fitting the name is for such a brick of a human— looks down at him with a stony expression, voice flat. “I’m good.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” The curly-haired boy’s simper widens, dimples popping into place as he skates into his next question with dramatic friendliness. “Haven’t had anyone cause you any trouble tonight, have you?”

Brock blinks once, attitude remaining coldly indifferent even in the face of Harry’s cheeriness. His words, however, are snipped and pointed. “Not yet.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to keep it that way.” The young man comments sympathetically, nodding his head along with the worker. “Totally understandable.”

“Good.” The employee remarks in the same detached tone, shifting on his feet, obviously growing uncomfortable and irritated with the conversation. “So I’m guessing that means you know you have to get in line.”

Harry glances over his shoulder at the lengthy expanse of people gathered along the side of the building, a light wind filtering through his freshly-shampooed ringlets as he studies the way the bright sign on top of the club casts alternating rainbow colors across the crowd.

He makes a disapproving sound by sucking at his teeth, lulling his sight back onto the guard. “I don’t know, man. At this rate, I feel like by the time we get to the front of the line, it’ll be last call.”

“Maybe.” Brock shrugs offhandedly. “It is what it is, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry returns his gesture, but his posture shows no intention of moving, the corners of his rose lip set in a knowing smirk. “But since you’ve been having a good night, do you think you could find it in yourself to just let us through? We’d greatly appreciate it.”

The bouncer’s face hardens, any shred of professional amiability washing out of his defined features. “I don’t think so.”

The vampire’s shoulders sag in exaggerated disappointment. “Are you sure? It’s just five of us. Don’t think we’ll do much damage. Right, guys?”

Harry glimpses over his back to his friends, who let their conversation falter for a moment to throw out a chorus of half-assed agreements, trying to keep themselves from snickering.

“We promise we won’t cause any problems.” Xander speaks up, jutting his chin encouragingly at the man as his lips twitch slyly. He lifts one of his hands, the smallest finger sticking out stiffly and wiggling around. “Pinky swear.”

The rest of the group bursts into a round of light laughter, causing Harry to release a few airy giggles of his own.

Xander looks over at Niall, raising his eyebrows and quipping in an innocent manner. “Right, Ni? No funny business tonight. That means no climbing onto the bar again and stripping down to your socks.”

“That happened one time!” Niall exclaims incredulously, socking the taller boy in the shoulder as the others laugh harder than before, his blue eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Once! And it was only ‘cause Harry challenged me to a tequila shot contest.”

The Irish vampire’s accented voice drops darkly as he reminisces. “Fuckin’ hate tequila. Makes me act like a moron.”

“As if you’re not one already.” Mitch pipes up in his usual soft dialect, chuckling as he ducks away from Niall’s vengeful fist.

Harry cranes back to face Brock, thumb playing with his daylight ring as his hands stay relaxed inside his trousers. He shrugs one shoulder easily for emphasis. “See? You can let us through. We pinky swore.”

The entire charade seems to have only infuriated the security guard more than before, his brows now fully furrowed and a deep, unamused frown etched across his previously pursed lips. His voice is on edge with barely controlled anger. “I’m not putting up with any shit. If you want in, go to the back of the line. If not, leave.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, head shaking slightly. “Guess I’ll just have to go the other route, then.”

The creature takes a step forward towards the employee, close enough that their chests almost press together. The bulky man stands his ground, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes at seeing the smaller boy make such a bold move.

“What the f—?”

Harry locks gazes with Brock, pupils dilating to twice their size, the usual emerald shade of his irises flickering a haunting red and looking sinister in the buttery light of the street lamps. Horror breaks across the worker’s face, the ability to form coherent sentences disappearing from his demeanor. Harry’s heightened senses can hear the way his heartbeat spikes, blood instinctively rushing into his chest as a response to the adrenaline materializing in his veins. The activation of human’s fight-or-flight modes is always so oddly pleasurable. Just feeling how they react so drastically makes Harry’s fangs tingle with longing. Fear is a good condiment, he’s learned; it gives blood’s usual metallic flavor a certain twang.

But at the moment, a beverage from this specific tap isn’t the one Harry has in mind. He has his interests set on something much tangier and full-bodied; maybe Casamigos golden tequila, or Don Julio's Blanco. Preferably mixed with a young office secretary or a Bath and Body Works employee instead of lemon and salt.

All in all, Brock is just collateral for a much bigger prize, which lies behind the roped off area he holds dominion over. It’s Harry’s job to break that dam.

Before the large man can fully react, the vampire begins working his compulsion strategy, tone coming out level and soothing, thick with persuasion and teetering along a sleepy undercurrent. “You’re going to let us through, and you’re going to forget we ever met.”

The guard’s pupils enlarge to match Harry’s, the look of utter terror on his face melting right off. His features go slack as the monster’s magical influence works its way through his brain, coating every neuron and bending him to the deliverer’s will. The man reaches over and removes the velvet rope blocking the group’s path, stepping off to the side obediently with an empty expression present across his appearance.

The leader of the group smiles just as brightly as he had the second he’d walked up to the door. He passes by the worker, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder and feeling the muscular man strain under his supernatural strength. “Thank you very much. You have a nice night, Brock.”

Harry’s friends follow behind him, echoing his parting message and sharing a collective chortle.

The second the group dives past the frame of the club entrance, the whole ambiance of the atmosphere changes. Harry walks across the top ledge of the establishment, coming to a halt at the railing that overlooks the main level of the club, his inhumanly sharp eyes bouncing around all the corners of the building to construct some type of familiar layout in his head. Amidst the blinking lights, thick artificial smoke, and swaying bodies, his keen instincts sketch a mental image for tonight’s hunting ground.

The bar is at the far left corner of the club, squared off and taking up a large chunk of the colorful tiled dance floor. The music station extends across the entire wall at the opposite end of the tavern, stocked with massive speakers and a professional turntable. Harry’s brows jump in mild surprise— it’s not every day that a club puts so much effort into their mixer.

The animated dancing area is packed with people, the crowd all jumping and grinding to the beat of the bass, moving as one large mass while the rotating strobe lights hang from the cavernous ceiling, bathing their moving silhouettes in neon reds, drunken blues, groggy purples, and electric yellows. The dim surroundings and heavy fog make all the hues more intense, giving the endless party that timeless quality which people tend to enjoy about nightlife. It’s the night to remember effect that movies and shows always hyperbolize; he thinks this way because he’s well aware that not even a third of these people are sober enough to know what the fuck they’re doing, let alone recall it the following day. It’s comically ironic, really.

But Harry profits off that liquor amnesia, so he brushes away his sardonic skepticism for the time being, settling his lean forearms onto the metal railing that lines the second story of the venue, which is meant to keep shit-faced customers from creating a messy lawsuit. He carefully absorbs the grandeur of it all, leaning his weight forward with a detached sigh, already flickering through the mental menu of his favorite drinks that he has expertly memorized.

He’s in the process of choosing between a Manhattan— it isn’t a very complicated drink, which is exactly what he’s looking for; something simple and strong— or just straight tequila in a glass when he suddenly feels a familiar presence arrange itself beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully with their own.

Harry snaps out of his recipe retrieval, eyes casting to the side to land on his best friend of almost a century. He cocks an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the thin, bearded man to make the first move towards conversation.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?”

The green-eyed vampire sputters into spontaneous laughter, the edges of his eyes crinkling as the small pits in his cheeks jolt awake. His tone is humorous and full of fake insult for the hell of the joke. “Wow, alright. So I get us into the club that you chose and that makes me a prick? Good to know. You can handle the muscle next time, then, if you’re gonna talk shit.”

Mitch cracks a gentle jesting grin, which is very on brand for him. He doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. He’s quiet, reserved, and hardly engages with anyone outside of their immediate group. He’s always been that way for as long as Harry could remember.

When they had met back in 1924 at a speakeasy in New York, Mitch had given off a mysterious vibe that Harry had found amusing and intriguing. His slightly sickly appearance and distant persona made the younger vampire want to get to know him better; it was just so peculiar that this seemingly impassive man was working at an illegal bar as a live musician. One would think that a performer would have to display an engaging character to keep a loyal audience, but Mitch had been all the talk of the underground despite his unemotional coolness. It was startlingly unorthodox and Harry just had to know more.

Therefore, with a bit of help from his convincing supernatural abilities, he’d secured a spot as the black market club’s leading vocalist. He wasn’t anything worth a Grammy, but he could keep his singing in tune and follow Mitch’s guitar rhythms easily enough, all thanks to his limited experience with piano. He fit right in.

From the first show they had put on together, it was like they had known one another in a different lifetime. They clicked so flawlessly it was almost fictional.

Harry was lively and charming on stage, working the crowd to his favor as easily as he could knock back a shot, wrapping every single patron around his jeweled pinky without breaking a sweat. His witty temperament countered Mitch’s timid disposition perfectly and that uncommon dynamic had been the foundation to their friendship. Their humorous shenanigans on stage (which included Harry pinching at Mitch’s ass and making vague vulgar motions at each other while harmonizing) was a hit within the drunken community, and it bled into their personal lives. They went from only interacting on stage to sharing drinks together afterwards, to hanging out outside of work, to deep late night conversations about the world and their experiences.

Soon enough, they were closer than either had expected to become. And once they found out each other’s true identities (Mitch had transitioned during the American Revolution, when a vampire in his battalion had given him blood to heal from a wound, unaware that the next day, Mitch would suffer a fatal gunshot to the stomach that would trigger his transformation) they grew inseparable. They had remained that way ever since.

Despite his friend’s withdrawn tendencies, the older vampire never hesitates to make his opinions heard, obvious in how he’d just full-bodied Harry with that snarky comment. Even when it’s at his expense, Harry appreciates and respects the rawness of it. He loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path— it’s one of his favorite traits about him and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him his best friend. He’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that position.

Due to this, Harry rarely takes genuine offense in Mitch’s digs. They’re normally expressed as a joke and they’ve both been alive for so long that thick skin is a default.

“How was I dick?” Harry inquires, slinking his head to the side with entertained curiosity. “If anything, he was the one being an asshole. I asked him to let us in nicely and he practically spit in my face!”

Mitch snorts in amusement, shaking his head lightly as his eyes streak across the humongous room in the same cunning manner Harry’s had. “You and Xander didn’t have to mock him that way.”

That’s another thing that makes Mitch the better half of their power duo— he still has a decent shred of humanity in his unbeating heart. Pessimistic conclusions aside, Harry does have a bit, as well...but his is more like a paper-thin pencil shaving than a shred. Barely there, but there, at least.

The young man returns his companion’s snort, rolling his eyes up to the hanging lights over their heads. “Was just some harmless teasing. Nothing bad came of it.”

Mitch scowls scoldingly. “It was unnecessary and mean.”

Harry mimics his expression with his nose scrunched sarcastically. “We were just taking the piss, and it’s not like he’s gonna remember it anyways. Stop being such a kill-joy.”

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.”

“Or what?” Harry tilts his chin up challengingly, the amber specks around his pupils glinting tauntingly, faint black veins momentarily webbing across the whites of his eyes. He sweetens his voice into a honeyed drawl. “Are you gonna spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?”

Mitch belts out a feathery chuckle, shoving his friend with enough strength to send a regular human flying across the deck. But since the taller vampire matches his force, he hardly moves an inch. “Fuck off.”

“I’m being serious!” Harry cackles, turning his hips and sticking out his ass towards his visibly disgusted acquaintance. “Go fucking in, if you want.”

He lowers his voice into a sultry hum, wagging his backside jestingly. “I like it rough, baby. Why don’t you bend me over this railing and show me who’s boss?”

It’s Mitch’s turn to roll his eyes to the ceiling, voice deadpan. “I think I’ll pass.”

Harry juts his lower lip into a theatrical pout, sniffling faux tears. “You’re rejecting me that quick? Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

His best friend doesn’t even blink. “Still you.”

“I can live with that. And it’s probably a good call on your end to give up all this,” he signals vaguely up and down his tight torso with a ringed hand, grinning as he watches the veteran vampire pretend to gag, “because I don’t think Sarah wouldn’t be too happy about it.”

Mitch’s humorous face immediately drops, eyes narrowing at the change in topic. “Very funny.”

“I know, right? I’m a proper comedian.” Harry quips proudly, batting his lashes mockingly. “Where is Sarah, anyways? Have you heard from her lately?”

Sarah and Mitch...They’re a complex couple, if they can even be called a couple. The two are more like occasional friends with benefits, “occasional” meaning “once every couple of months, if Sarah happens to be passing by.”

Their relationship is open and very loose, mostly due to the fact that Sarah is fairly new to the world of blood-driven immortality and has decided to take full advantage of it. She’s been using compulsion to travel the world for the last three years since she changed, which had been the result of an unfortunate car accident.

Mitch had been seeing her casually beforehand, keeping her around for the purpose of having a conventional feeding arrangement. Every time vampires feed, they heal the wounds they inflict with a bit of their blood, proceeding to then wipe the person’s memory with compulsion in order to eradicate any chances of getting caught. The caveat is that if a human dies with vampire blood in their system, they become one.

Sarah’s death happened the day after she’d spent a night with Mitch, and one can imagine how distressed she had been when she'd awoken atop a metal table in a morgue within the basement of a hospital. Mitch had been there from the very first second she’d opened her eyes to her new life. Or rather, her dead life. He had helped her get accustomed to the next stage (meaning having to cut family ties in order to avoid a catastrophe— the less people that know the truth about the supernatural, the better) coaxing her through transition and teaching her the way to go about the rest of eternity without putting herself and others in danger.

Vampires rarely have any compassion for life (usually out of spite, which stems from how their own lives were taken from them), so it’s not uncommon that bodies are found drained of blood in back alleys, abandoned warehouses, and washed up on banks of oceans and rivers. It could be either of two reasons, or even both: the monster doesn’t care about the consequences of their actions, or they never learned to control their urges.

Harry’s crew isn't that careless. Through Mitch, they had learned restraint, taking up his practice of feeding enough to satisfy themselves without killing the host, healing them, and then erasing the occurrence from their memories. Mitch had come up with the tactic to cling to his humanity— to be as kind and nondestructive as possible— but if Harry’s being honest, most of their friends only play along because it’s convenient. No bodies means no police involvement, and no police involvement means being able to settle down in one place for an extended period, not having to stress about the annoying process of bouncing around the world for the rest of their lives to avoid detection.

Keeping low was for the best, and when things get rough— whether it be a mistake on their part or a disastrous bender caused by another vampire passing through— they resort to drinking from blood bags until things tide over. Mitch has a contact at the nearest hospital, which is how he gets access to the stock, as well as how he managed to clean up Sarah’s passing so quickly.

All in all, Harry had only mentioned Sarah to tease his friend, knowing the slight sensitivity that comes with the subject. Vampires rarely form emotional bonds, typically because it can get really messy, really fast, whether that connection be to a mortal or to another creature of their species. All of them have baggage of some sort— you can’t die, resurrect, be forced to abandon your family, and be a slave to drinking blood for the rest of eternity and just...be normal. That type of extreme emotional turmoil is corrosive towards love. It’s always better to just avoid it all together.

That’s why this is so habitual to joke about; it’s a way to deflect.

Mitch sighs grandly, Harry’s question echoing in his skull. “I don’t know where she is, to be honest. Last we talked was, like, four weeks ago, I think. She was in Japan, said she was drumming for a new upcoming band. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Harry nods his head once in understanding, itching to steer the theme of their conversation elsewhere now that he knows the topic is in a more sensitive state than he’d imagined. He doesn’t want to push Mitch into a depressive episode when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Spending the night consoling his sulky friend in the bathroom of a club is the last thing he wants right now.

“I guess that makes Sarah the asshole, then.” He pokes jokingly, bumping the older vampire’s hip with his own. “She’s ghosting you. Get it? It’s funny ‘cause she’s actually dead.”

Mitch’s sad expression shatters like glass, replaced by one of unamused secondhand embarrassment at the shitty pun. “I fucking hate you.”

“All the people who were ahead of their time were hated.” Harry sing-songs, turning up his nose haughtily. “Copernicus, Socrates, Einstein— all of them were hated for being geniuses. I’m willing to carry that same burden.”

Mitch blinks at him three times. “No one hated Einstein.”

The curly-haired boy’s lips twitch darkly. “I’m pretty sure Japan did.”

“You’re going to hell.”

“I’m already there, mate.”

Mitch shakes his head, but even through the black lights, Harry can see him trying to ward off a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he speaks up again softly. “It’s not that hard to refrain from humiliating innocent people who are just doing their job, H.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re still on that?” The broad monster groans in exasperation, palms slapping down on the metal rungs below him. “We were just having some fun! But fine. If it helps you fake sleep at night, I’ll try and keep my condescending flare to a minimum.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Mitch responds peacefully, tapping his nimble fingers casually along the railing, his action much less violent than his companion’s. “S’not too difficult.”

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, returning his intent gaze to the dance floor, scoping out the scene once again in hopes of finding a proper meal for the night.

He zones in on a group of young women gathered along one side of the bar, their messy giggling and lack of balance giving away that they’re obviously sloshed off their faces. Seems promising enough.

When he talks once more, his tone holds an attitude that plays on a grumble, but it’s somewhat distracted. “The least you could do is let me have some fun, considering I didn’t even want to come.”

Mitch huffs, making an entertained noise in the back of his throat. “You say that every single time we go out, and yet you always end up taking someone home. Don’t know why you’re complaining.”

Harry side-eyes him from his peripheral vision, the corners of his pretty cherry mouth dipping down grudgingly, mood defensive. “You drag me to these things so I’m not going to apologize for making the best of it. I put a lot of effort into my pick-ups! I deserve to get my dick wet.”

“God, please don’t say that again.” His best mate physically makes a vomiting sound. “You’re acting like a spoiled fraternity douche.”

Harry’s gaze ignites into flames, his back straightening out as he fully turns to face the shorter man. He’s never been insulted so low before. “Take that back!”

“Take that back!” Mitch mocks in an exaggerated, high-pitched British accent, attempting to stifle giggles.

“Take it back! You know how much I hate Gen Z.”

“Okay, boomer.”

“You’re older than I am!”

“I know. Your lack of maturity is a constant reminder.”

Harry opens his mouth, prepared to make a sharp comeback about how Mitch should have left the shaggy-haired stoner aesthetic back in the eighties, but then a heavy Irish accent interrupts his rebuttal.

“What’s all this about getting your dick wet?”

Both of the vampires turn towards Niall, finding Xander and Adam accompanying him in a loose semi-circle.

Xander isn’t paying any attention, too busy tapping away at the screen of his smartphone, apparently engaged in a very riveting conversation with whoever is on the other side. Adam has his hands tucked into the pockets of his plum purple wind-breaker, looking over Harry’s shoulder, seeming to be adamantly searching for someone in particular amidst the mob on the level beneath them. Niall is the only one interested in their dying conversation, probably only because he heard something crude being mentioned.

“It’s nothing.” Harry dismisses, but he can’t help but stick Mitch with a glare. “What’s the plan for tonight, then?”

Adam speaks up for the first time. “Charlotte and Ny texted saying they got here about ten minutes ago. Mentioned they were dancing near the DJ station, so I think I’ll go find them.”

“Sounds good.” Harry bobs his head in accordance. “We’ll see you out there, yeah?”

Adam returns his action, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. The leader of the group watches him trot onto the large spiral staircase, disappearing into the thick throng of people scattered across its wide steps.

Harry shifts his attention to Xander, snapping his fingers a few times in his direction and giving a two-toned whistle. “What about you? What’s got your head?”

“Not what, who.” Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making kissy faces at their friend.

Xander ignores him, glancing up at the green-eyed brunette to let him know he’ll be with him in a second, returning his focus back to his iPhone. After a few more elongated moments of typing, the older man finally locks his device.

“I have a date.” He throws out casually, almost as if it should be obvious.

“A date?” Harry reiterates slowly, not quite buying it. Xander doesn’t date. He couch-surfs just as much as Harry does.

“Mmhm.” Xander glimpses behind his fellow vampire, eyes carrying intention. “It’s just a random dude from Tinder. I thought it’d be easier to set something up beforehand, just so I don’t have to spend the whole night trying to figure out if a guy is making eyes at me or trying to keep his whiskey down.”

“Smart.” Harry shrugs his sculpted brows, impressed. A cocky grin toys with the corners of his mouth. “But we both know no one will ever compare to me.”

“Right.” Xander scoffs in a deadpan manner, gifting him a tight, aggravated smile. “If only you weren’t such an emotionally unavailable prick.”

“Oh, like you’re mentally stable enough for a relationship?” Harry bites back, but it holds no true malice, just some petty rivalry. “Piss off.”

“Happily!” The other vampire exclaims, clasping his hands together for dramatics. “Have fun finding someone out there. I’m just gonna grab a to-go box for my already prepped meal.”

Harry doesn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, he turns to Niall, pointing at him to symbolize it's his turn to share his plans for the night. “What have you got, Lucky Charms?”

His friend breaks into a jolly cackle at the nickname, arms falling crossed over his chest, hands absentmindedly squeezing his elbows in thought. “Well, I dunno, Tea and Crumpets. What’s your game plan?”

Before Harry can answer, Mitch butts in, feeling left out of the banter and somewhat hurt that no one had assigned him an alter ego. “What’s my country-derived nickname?”

Niall gives the American a slow once-over, shifting in his dark brown Clarks boots, fitted navy slack riding up his thighs and allowing his rainbow polka-dot socks to peek out. He hums lowly in the back of his throat, a grin spreading across his rosy cheeks. “Biscuits and Gravy.”

Harry chimes in, his own arms casually folding over his strong chest, index finger tapping on his bottom lip as if mulling something over. “I quite like We The People, actually.”

The Irish lad snaps his fingers as if having a sudden epiphany. “Uncle Sam!”

Harry’s emerald eyes twinkle with glee at seeing the way Mitch’s go half-lidded, no longer entertained. “Four Score And Seven Years Ago.”

“Okay, I think that’s enou—”

Niall wags a finger at Harry, lifting one shoulder in question, seeking approval on his next idea. “Star Spangled Banner?”

Harry copies the boy’s motion from before, snapping his fingers and making jazz hands. “I Pledge Allegiance.”

“Ok, I get it!” Mitch whines with annoyed finality, pushing off the metal railing with a curt grimace on his scraggly face.

“You asked!” Niall rationalizes between hiccups of evilly delighted joy, cupping his stomach as if to keep it from splitting open.

“Won’t make that mistake again.” The older creature grumbles, leaning his back against the rungs and looking off towards the distance, communicating that he’s done being a part of the conversation.

Once Harry manages to reign in his giggles, he rubs at his nose with the side of his finger, releasing a wistful sigh. He refers to the question Niall had stated before their little bullying fest. “I think I’m just gonna do what I always do— sway a nice, pretty girl into doing some not-so-nice but very pretty things.”

“Solid.” The Irish bloke remarks, toying with the plastic buttons on his silk beige top. “Not much to do other than that, to be fair. Adam’s usually my wingman, but I guess he abandoned me for a girl’s night.”

“Mitch is mine, and he knows better than to dip on me.” Harry roughly nudges his best friend with his elbow, dodging to the side when Mitch tries to hit him in return.

Niall hums softly in amusement. “Maybe I should make Adam sign whatever contract you drafted for that poor bugger.”

The curly brunette snorts. “Good luck. Adam’s as stubborn as they come. But, hey, if you can’t find anyone, just come to me.” Harry’s irises flit crimson for a millisecond, an ominous smirk buckling his features. “You know I’m always happy to share.”

“Thanks,” his friend exhales flatly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If you’re taking tips,” Mitch pipes up, vaguely signaling at Niall’s shirt with his chin, “maybe don’t wear that stupid shirt next time. The elephant doodles look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not taking fashion tips from anyone who actually enjoyed living in Ohio, then.” Niall snaps in an exaggerated American accent, middle finger jutting towards the other man. “The only thing you know how to dress is a cornfield scarecrow. Must be why you look like one.”

Harry forces down more laughter, clearing his throat softly. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t get hammered— girls hate that.”

“Note taken.” The pale boy runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it up and adding texture to appear more laid-back and rugged. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.” The younger vampire recites, giving a big thumbs-up.

“Good luck out there. You, too, Boston Tea Party.”

With that, Niall saunters away, leaving a fully laughing Harry and a grouchy Mitch in his wake.

The two acquaintances decide to follow in everyone else’s example, descending down the looped staircase and chatting about Mitch’s latest gig at a new bar downtown.

Harry praises Mitch's talent with his guitar, specifically the fact that he found a hobby which he enjoys so much that he’s willing to keep it as a permanent part of his life. It’s easy to get bored of things when you have hundreds of years ahead of you; everything can seem pointless, in the end. But Harry doesn’t think Mitch has ever let himself fall into those types of dark headspaces and he finds that extremely admirable.

Harry wishes he could say the same. He’s no musical prodigy, that much is obvious, but he is an expert at playing a few specific French songs on the piano by memory. He rarely does it, though; only when he’s in a low state of mind, which— given the origin of how he learned said classical pieces— isn’t something he’s proud of. They’re tied to a very gruesome part of his past that he’d rather bury deep inside, but he can only push back his troubles for so long before they begin to leak out, staining the clean sheet of recovery he had sewn into place. Those arrangements just bring him a warped sense of comfort he can’t explain.

Even though he’s aware of the destructive aspects of the songs, he finds himself humming one now out of instinct as he elbows through squished bodies and flailing limbs. The second he notices he’s doing it, he cuts it off, focusing all his intention on making it to the other side of the room to the bar. It’s a hard trip when it feels like the walls of the building are closing in on him.

When Harry finally breaks free from the Human Centipede re-enactment that is the club dance floor, he practically collapses onto the sleek glass counter. Death was less painful than that walk.

He cranes his neck to the side wildly, suddenly remembering that his much smaller, much skinnier, much more crushable friend had been in tow behind him. To his utter shock, he watches as Mitch calmly weeds around grinding drunk couples with the poise and grace of a swan, filling the empty spot besides him without a single ailment in the world.

Harry blinks at him blankly in silence, almost as if he’d grown an extra set of fangs.

Mitch flags the bartender from all the way down the counter, not bothering to meet the green eyes peering at him in disbelief. “You’re so fucking dramatic, H.”

“How did you not die? Again?” Harry sputters, sight jutting all around the older vampire’s body, looking for any battle wounds or missing appendages. “I almost lost an arm in there!”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t your favorite one, right?” Mitch smirks at his own lewd joke, the simper molding into one of genuine kindness when the mixologist slides up in front of them. “Hi, how are you? I’m good, as well, thank you for asking! Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry, I’m not one of the ‘just make me something sweet’ type of assholes.”

Harry zones out the rest of the friendly chat Mitch entertains with the employee, letting his gaze wander around the large auditorium-like room. He dances his vision over the DJ remixing music on top of the stage, head beginning to bop along to the beat that is currently shaking the seven foot tall speakers. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good this specific producer is.

He continues scoping out the rest of the venue, taking notes of the different clusters of people that seem to hold promise for the plans he has in store later tonight. A small group of hippie friends here, a two-party duo of tipsy stoners there, and a clump of college students at the edge of the ruckus, stumbling around loudly. Things are looking somewhat decent, in his opinion. The hippies seem to be catching his attention more than the others— specifically, the one that looks similar to Stevie Nicks. That’s a fantasy that’s been waiting to be fulfill for decades now.

Harry lulls his head forward again when he feels Mitch give a squeeze at his elbow, telling him that the bartender is waiting to take his order. He decides to go for the gold tequila, asking for it straight in a highball glass without any garnishes. The worker’s eyebrows jump up slightly at the unorthodox request, but he drops a polite, “Coming right up.” either way.

“You truly have no flavor.” Mitch tuts once their waiter has stepped away to prepare their drinks. “No taste buds whatsoever.”

“Yeah? Well, you can suck my flavorless dick.” Harry chimes brightly, eyes crinkling shut as a result of a theatrical smile.

The younger vampire goes to turn back around, legitimately interested in the girl he’d seen that looked like one of his seventies celebrity crushes, already running through scenarios in his head on how he’d get her into his bed for tonight. Weed and ABBA are probably good conversation starters for that, if Harry’s undisputed people skills have anything to say about it.

As he’s rotating his torso, a blurred image catches his eyes. He does a double-take, honing in on a group of girls that look faintly familiar. He scans them carefully as they huddle around the corner of the bar area, laughing and toasting along to the multiple conversations they all have going at once. They look like the typical posse that would be a backdrop clique in a mainstream movie.

He knows where he recognizes them from— it had been the same girls he’d spotted earlier up on the second deck.

Harry expertly surveillances each woman, picking out potential candidates as easily as he’d pinch petals off a flower. The one in the center of the group is obviously the leader, present in how she’s the prettiest and is somehow managing to juggle all of these interactions at once. It means she’s used to being the center of attention— probably strives under it. He throws her out as a potential; the last thing he needs is someone who everyone knows and seeks out. He wouldn’t be able to sneak away with her quietly.

The rest of the girl crew all seem to be the same status-wise, appearing as supporting characters to the main one in the middle. He could choose any one of them blindly and it wouldn’t make a difference. They all seem so tight-knit, they probably share personalities, at this point. It’s like dipping his hand into a jar of jelly beans and they’re all the same flavor. That notion makes him laugh to himself a bit; maybe Mitch was right about his lack of taste.

Then, Harry spots her, and all the other women immediately go up in smoke.

It’s hard not to spot her. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but not in a good way.

The prospective contender is off to the side, sitting atop a barstool with her feet tucked along the footrest, tapping them against the metal rung awkwardly. She’s talking to one of the other people in the group, but the interaction seems forced and not very satisfying, obvious in both of their faces. She’s tracing her middle finger around the edge of her glass cup distractedly, the contents inside barely touched, the ice in her drink long-melted. She seems disinterested in the chaos her friends are causing, her expression bored and borderline regretful, as if she doesn’t want to be here.

The further he sizes the girl up, the more appropriate she looks for the role he needs filled. Since barely anyone is paying attention to her, that means he can lead her astray without too much resistance from her acquaintances, if any at all. She appears somewhat unimportant to the narrative— merely a background extra— and it makes him wonder what she’s doing with this clique of women that can’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s sad, really. Sad, but beneficial, because that means he can succeed in making her the supporting protagonist of his narrative, at least for tonight.

The girl is attractive, but not anything astronomical. She’s unconventionally pretty in a way that makes her relevant, but not particularly distinct in the eyes of regular men with presumptuous standards. She’s easy to pass up, and if Harry hadn’t been actively pursuing someone of her bashful persona to card into his plans, he wouldn’t have noticed her. At the risk of once again sounding shallow, Harry’s aware that— physically speaking— he’s very much out of her league. His above-average appearance gives off the vibe that he’d fit better with the leader of the group instead of with her, but he doesn’t want someone that would raise suspicions as a result of their absence. This girl, sitting along the edge of the party with barely any purpose and no one to really question her whereabouts, is exactly what he’s looking for. She’s perfectly imperfect for the cause.

Harry continues to examine her meticulously, analyzing other traits that can give him a better feel for her character. She’s clad in a pair of high-waisted pastel pink silk pants that stop right at her ankles, accompanied by a flouncy creme lace blouse tucked into her waist. Tan wedges, no accessories, delicate rosey nail polish, and minimalist makeup. The boldest thing about her is the brick red shade of her lipstick, which is easily shadowed by the sparkly sequin dresses, five inch heels, and layered tops her friends are wearing.

Harry likes her outfit, though. It’s concise and safe, which he can appreciate. Yes, perhaps she looks like she belongs in a dentist’s office rather than a Los Angeles nightclub, but he thinks there’s beauty in simplicity. She looks cute, and that’s good enough for him.

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice snaps him out of his detail-hungry haze, drawing him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass.

His friend slides his tall drink across the glass counter, the amber liquid inside warping his reflection.

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while accepting the cup, ringed fingers clinking against the crystalline surface.

He takes a leisurely sip from the straight tequila, its tangy kick sending a warm surge up through his ears and down his throat, spreading into his chest and along the trench of his tummy. Alcohol really is the cure to everything.

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, the strobe lights alternating across the glossy surface of his hazel irises, highlighting smugness. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.”

The curly-haired vampire flashes him a light smirk over the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tapping his two initial rings along the bottom of the highball cup. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?”

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality.

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate business. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for.

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older monster remarks sarcastically, bumping his bottle against Harry’s glass in encouragement, using the spout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

“But, darlinggggg,” Harry whines playfully, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his slightly liquor-swollen lips. “I made dinner last night. Isn’t it your turn?”

Mitch rolls his eyes and shoves Harry’s shoulder harshly, with just enough force that it actually has some type of impact this time around. “Just go, before she gets creeped out by your staring.”

Harry’s own irises copy his friend’s actions as he pushes himself up from the bar, rubbing at the new sore spot on his shoulder with an exaggerated pout present. “Ow.”

Mitch blinks at him flatly, fighting off a grin. “You’ve had worse. Go.”

Harry swivels on his heel, once again facing the group of tipsy girls at the other end of the counter. It appears that most of them have dispersed into the dance floor, having found partners to entertain them for the time being, moving to the music as if there are no other people in the room. They had left behind three of their companions, one of which is Harry’s aspiring hookup; he gets the feeling that the two girls had stayed behind out of the kindness of their hearts, feeling too guilty to leave the runt of the litter all on her own. He hopes that’s the case because if so, the second Harry inserts himself into the situation, they’ll take that chance and split, leaving him to tend his meal in peace.

He tucks one large hand into the front pocket of his trousers, the grip on his glass tightening a smidge, rings biting into his skin as the condensation of the chilled tequila cools the small spike of pain. He spins his lionhead ring around his finger within his slacks, gradually drifting closer as he goes through a checklist of prized pick-up lines he could use to garner her attention. He ducks and dodges inebriated club-goers with ease now that he’s had something to take the edge off, finally reaching the end of the bar, slowly coming to a halt right behind his target for the night.

Harry nearly passes out as soon as her scent hits him.

It’s faint and tender and nothing quite like anything he’s encountered before, a mixture of honey and lavender that permeates through her normal perfume. He feels like his head’s been put through a wringer, his whole body clenching for a moment as raging sparks erupt across the pit of his belly. He indulges a deep breath, willing the blazing current away in order to keep his cool, but all he can see flashing before his eyes are images of her leaving traces of that smell smeared all over his face as he bobs his head between her quivering thighs.

He takes another penetrating inhale, centering his mind back into the present. He needs to behave.

Her friends spot him immediately, their side of the conversation faltering to ash. They give Harry a wide-eyed once-over, mouths parting in slight shock as they drink up his attractive appearance, gazes lingering along his thick chest as it strains the baby blue material of his tee. Their sights drag across his broad shoulders, dainty collarbones, and strong neck, faces gawking without remorse, blinking emptily at the slope of his sharp jaw and the peaks of his prominent cheekbones. They seem to be at a loss for words the second his dimples indent into place, his brows shrugging in a half-assed greeting before he cocks his head to side a tad, voice velvet as it directs towards the girl they had forgotten existed.

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

Y/N jumps slightly in response at the new addition to the painfully dying conversation, not recognizing the heavy English accent and deep baritone that booms behind her. She had been wondering why Melissa and Isabel had stopped talking so abruptly, and she now has her answer.

Y/N slowly goes to cast a curious glance over her shoulder and Harry can hear the pulse flaring in her neck from the sudden intrusion to her surroundings. His fangs prick along the inside of his bottom lip due to carnal instincts; he has to will them back into receding.

When her eyes land on the owner of the random words, her finger immediately halts its swirling motions along the hem of her glass.

‘Fuck.’ is the only thought that registers through her short-circuiting mind.

The lanky, curly-haired brunette that stands before her gives a gentle yet confident smile, the gesture dazzling even in the low lighting of the atmosphere. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep pits carving into his cheeks, perfect teeth complimenting full cherry red lips, eyes the color of a rainforest canopy, and a broad frame that is somehow not overwhelming. He’s sporting neatly ironed tan slacks, a fitted cotton shirt with a cute yet crude graphic at its center, a fancy plaid coat, and crisp yellow Vans without a single smudge in sight.

Y/N can’t help but take notice of all the little details of his fit, especially the accessories. A beautiful pearl necklace laid along his delicate clavicle, a cross resting between his defined pectorals, and a matching earring dangling from his earlobe. Not to mention the array of clunky rings arranged along nimble fingers, hugging a tall glass carrying caramel liquor and somehow managing to dwarf the cup’s size. The extra decoration is sensual in such an unexpectedly delicious manner.

The hand he has tucked in his pants ducks out to comb through his dark auburn ringlets and Y/N can feel her mouth water at the new round of elegant rings. The action activates the cologne Harry had thoughtfully spritz in specific pressure points along his body, the scent of tobacco and vanilla traveling through the fog-heavy air and causing Y/N’s stomach to summersault.

The young man is as close to flawless as anyone could ever come.

Y/N feels an unmistakable sharp pain shoot through her ankle, and she comes to the realization that it had been the tip of one of her friend’s heels. The reality check jars her out of the embarrassing daze he’d spelled onto her, open mouth snapping shut and her lashes fluttering over her previously unblinking eyes.

“Oh! Uhm—uh—” She clumsily twists sideways to fully face him, swallowing thickly and tasting the remnants of the alcohol she’d barely been nursing. “N-No. I’m not— well, I don’t think…? We Ubered here so that wouldn’t make any sense ‘cause I have no car to drive...so...”

The boy chuckles softly at her choppy monologue, his laughter warm and inviting, similar to the look reflecting off his shiney irises, the golden flecks around his pupils seeming to swell and shrink from the rainbow lights cascading across them. Despite being caught off guard and utterly embarrassed, she can’t seem to break eye contact with him. The longer she gazes into his eyes, the more relaxed she begins to feel, a fuzzy heat stemming from the center of her belly and spreading up her neck and ears.

Y/N gulps heavily like before, willing her tongue to produce a less embarrassing comment. “Sorry. Let me...Let me start over…Hi.”

“Hello.” He quips back playfully, lopsided grin widening in fond amusement. He lifts his drink up a bit in greeting. “M’Harry.”

“Y/N.” The girl squeaks out, copying his gesture because it’s easier than forcing her disoriented brain to try and come up with its own.

Harry flirts his intent up and down Y/N’s body slowly, checking her out without any subtlety. He wants her to know he’s interested.

When his sight locks with hers again, he bats his lashes sultrily and pours as much passion as he can into his tone, accent weighing in just right. “S’nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Her entire face prickles at how her name sounds dripping from those faultless raspberry lips. She’d pay anything to hear him say it again. “You, too.”

This is not what Y/N intended. This is most definitely not what she’d intended to happen when she’d reluctantly agreed to go out with some coworkers on a Friday night, giving in simply because she had promised herself she’d be more social within her new job.

She had moved to California roughly two months ago, wanting to get away from her old life in the small, boring town she hated to call home. Buying the flight had been a drastic decision made when she had been under the influence of something she’d rather not admit, but the following day— after she had sobered up from a wicked hangover— she found herself not wanting to cancel the trip. Found herself craving the excitement and adventure of beginning anew somewhere far away from everything she had ever known.

All of Y/N’s friends back home had supported her without hesitation, egging her preposterous idea and congratulating her on “getting the fuck out of here.” Her family had been a little less supportive, but after a few heartfelt chats about following your ambitions and a budgeting lesson from her cousin, they had gingerly gotten on board. They understood that keeping her trapped in that lame town where nothing really happened wasn’t the way to ensure her success in life. Therefore, the people closest to her had swallowed their opinions and respected her choice to dive off the deep end, in search of something better beyond the borders of their tiny city.

Within a week, Y/N had secured a decent job at a semi-popular cafe, courtesy of a connection from a family friend. Within two weeks, after many sleepless nights full of Rocky Road ice cream and the bright white pages of ApartmentFinder.com, she had managed to book a nice flat close to her place of work. It was a miracle, if she’d ever seen one. Especially within the crowded, expensive community that is Los Angeles. Within three weeks, she had been walking out of the giant glass building that was LAX with only two suitcases in tow, boarding an Uber to her new life.

Things had never seemed more picturesque, she’d thought. Everything was falling into place in a way that seemed almost blessed by the universe.

Then, the culture shock hit.

California was different. It’s was so fucking different than anything she’d ever faced and she wasn’t prepared for the social difficulties she’d have to hurdle. All her life, Y/N had grown up with the same people around her, spending every school year with them up until graduation, expanding her friend group as time passed. Even after high school, she’d remained closely connected with most of her graduating class. The region she lived in was tiny, tight-knit and friendly; it was hard not to. She couldn’t even go to the store for groceries without bumping into at least three people from her Algebra II class.

Point being, it had been ages since Y/N had been put in a situation where she actively had to try and make friends. She’d been through that challenge way back in kindergarten and had never been hit with it again.

Until it smacked her across the head here in LA.

Y/N didn’t mesh well with Californians, she quickly found out. They were all about crazy parties and club-hopping, whereas Y/N had been raised on community cookouts and mass sleepovers. They enjoyed getting cross-faded and streaking down the beach at two in the morning, meanwhile Y/N liked stripping down to her undies and spending the night binging Queer Eye while stuffing her face with Cheeze-Its and Snickers bars. They freely boasted about their sex adventures while bussing down tables at the restaurant, while Y/N’s intimate life had been nonexistent since the move.

It was just...startling, to put it lightly. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, and that’s mostly her fault for not doing the correct amount of research before jumping headfirst into a cliche LifeTime film.

Therefore, Y/N had made a pact with herself one month in, swearing to let loose and allow her surroundings to sweep her into a new dynamic— into a new, social butterfly version of herself. She’d started accepting the invitations from her coworkers to go out at night, and she’d started putting more effort into being open to wild experiences, no matter how scary they might seem. Shutting down and refusing to mold to her environment would only result in her having to return home with her tail between her legs, and she’d rather jump naked off a pier than see her parents’ faces wracked with pity.

And that’s exactly what she’d done a couple nights ago, at the encouragement of the group of girls she was at the club with now. It had, in turn, ended in her coming down with a mild cold, but at least now she’d be able to tell her friends back home a cool story about dropping inhibitions.

Dropping inhibitions is also why Y/N’s here tonight, dressed in the most party-like outfit she could put together, prodding an overly-boozy drink into her system, attempting to release some of the tension that had been building in her head for the last couple of weeks since she’d left her old life behind. That’s why she’s here, with strands of her blow-dried hair catching on the dark red gloss Melissa has slathered on her mouth in a thick layer. That’s why she’s here, with synthetic smoke scratching at her lungs and drunken men and women bumping into her every two minutes, most of them too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats to realize they’d almost toppled her off her seat. That’s why she’s here, with a blasé expression plastered across her features as her coworkers talk over her head without a second thought, her mind far away from the walls of this overhyped horror house.

Y/N had been thinking about how she’d just started her Disney+ membership, finding comfort in putting together a mental checklist of all the movies she’s going to plow through the second she sets foot past the doorframe of her apartment. Indulging on her childhood was an ideal form of escapism, in her opinion. She’s positive Walt Disney would agree.

That’s what her brain had been lost in when Harry’s deep, melodic voice had interrupted her daydreams, sending her spiraling into an embarrassing performance of nerve-induced hysteria.

Now here she is, blinking back at him dumbly, eyes the smallest bit damp from the smoke machine and neon flashes of light. And here he is, smirking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes raking down her wired up body suggestively as he takes a calm sip from what appears to be the straight tequila in his colossal, bejeweled hand.

The English boy takes a gradual step closer to her, wanting to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries that would make her uncomfortable. The scent of his cologne intensifies and she feels a fiery heat suddenly pour between her clasped thighs. It just hits her how long it’s truly been since she’s gotten laid and fuck, it’s sad.

Harry begrudgingly peels his attention away from Y/N for a second, aiming his words towards the girls standing behind her with their mouths still opened stupidly. Even from a respectful distance, his warm breath still washes across her jaw and cheek, causing electricity to zip down her spine. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, do you?”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thinks in the back of her muddled skull, ‘that’s definitely tequila.’

Isabel and Melissa slowly shake their heads in unison, glancing at each other as if to confirm he’d just spoken to them.

The edges of Harry’s lips jolt into a kind, easygoing smile. “Thank you. Promise I’ll keep her safe.”

Y/N feels her heart hiccup at his statement. If she’s not insanely mistaken, it appears to have carried an undertone of dirty intentions. God, she’s praying she’s not mistaken.

The two girls clamber away on their tall pumps, rounding around Harry and pausing for a moment. They make moaning faces and vulgar motions behind him, encouraging Y/N to pursue the stranger. She then watches them disappear into the throng of crowded bodies, leaving her alone with the beautiful boy and her heart slamming against her ribs.

Y/N focuses back onto Harry, licking her itching lips lightly, not knowing what to say next as he settles himself beside her. He rests his forearm on the counter along with his drink, tucking his other hand back into his trouser pocket and fixing himself into a comfortable standing position, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. The friction between his jacket and the bar rides his sleeve up an inch or so, and Y/N gets a view of the anchor tattoo he has along his wrist, as well as the upside-down cross inked between his thumb and index finger.

Harry catches her looking, mouth twitching with a smidge of arrogant self-assurance. He loves when girls drool over his tats.

“I have more.” He remarks lightly, a pang of condescending pleasure shooting through his chest at the way she jerks and pins her gaze down to the floor.

Blood rushes into her cheeks at the realization that she’s been caught and Harry’s teeth grind. It’s so hot watching her fidget for him. Maybe he finds her more attractive than he’d originally let on. “Would you like to see them?”

Y/N timidly coaxes herself into locking stares with him once again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, barely nodding with a soft, “Sure.”

She looks so pretty like that, he notices, staring up at him all doe-eyed and shy. It’d probably look even better if she were on her knees.

Yeah, he definitely likes her more than he’d thought.

Harry proceeds to shift about, shrugging his coat off his strong shoulders, letting it slip down his lean arms and reveal the plethora of dark tattoos strewn across his left arm. Y/N watches avidly, drinking up every flex of his biceps under the black paint and every twitch of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt, the tendons along his throat going taut for just a moment. That moment is enough for her to etch the image into the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life.

Harry tosses the article onto the table, extending his arm over its surface for her to get a better reading. She doesn’t miss the chance, her pupils tracing over every line and stroke of the pen, over every shaded area and meticulous detail.

His voice comes out as a low, garbled murmur, his own irises studying her features with just as much intensity. “You can touch them, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

After a moment of hesitation, the brim of her crystalline cup is replaced by the ridges of his smooth, tanned skin. She drags her digits over the naked mermaid, tracing the curve of her figure and the dip of her tail, then passing onto the stem of the large rose, ghosting over every thorn and prickle. Harry can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips and it’s making him throb.

“They’re very pretty.” Y/N whispers, allowing her touch to fall away, palm finding refuge across the counter. “Did they hurt?”

“A bit, yeah. But I’ve gotten so many done that I think I grew numb to the needle after a while.” Harry answers, shrugging one shoulder to show it’s no big deal. He grasps his glass once again and takes a drawn-out swig, extending the action just so she can see the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. Once the cup is back in its place, his tongue peeks out and swipes any leftover liquid from his rosy lips, which then settle into a coy simper. “Plus, I kinda like the pain.”

Y/N’s breathing stutters in her lungs and she swiftly swerves the topic onto something much less explicit. “So why’d you ask if I was the designated driver? That’s kind of an odd question. Very out of the blue.”

Harry lulls his middle finger across the hem of his glass, exactly how she had been doing earlier, the motion weighed by an innuendo. She seems to understand it, present in how she bites into the inside of her cheek. “I just figured that a pretty girl like you would have easily found someone to dance with. So when I saw you sitting here looking all bored with your drink barely touched…I just assumed, I suppose.”

And there it is again— the blood pouring into her face. Christ, if she keeps that up, he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Thank you, that’s— that’s really sweet. Proper gentleman.”

Harry runs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes snapping to her tinted mouth for a second, establishing some sexual tension that he’ll expand on as they go. “Who doesn’t like a guy who knows how to treat a girl, right?”

Y/N clears her throat softly, obviously phased by his forward compliment, but she tries to play it off. “To answer your question, I— uhm...I’m not really one for the club scene, I guess. Don’t really like it, but I didn’t want to be rude and turn down the invitation.”

‘Good girl,’ Harry thinks, silently cheering her on for having more brain cells than the typical human.

“Well, that’s where we share some common ground, then.” He chimes brightly, a soft smile bringing his dimples to life. “I don’t care for clubs, either, but my friends have an affinity for them so here I am.”

He gestures vaguely towards the general direction where he’d left Mitch, continuing his rant. “The choking smoke, the annoying strobe lights, the crowded floor, the drunk morons—”

“Bumping into you without giving a shit.” Y/N finishes his sentence, her vulgarity drawing a boyish giggle from her companion and now she’s convinced she’d do anything to hear him laugh like that again. “And there’s always a faint smell of vomit coming from somewhere.”

Harry slaps his hand down against the glass table in passionate agreement, voice pitching up slightly as his brows jump in emotion. “Right?! It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t understand how anyone could genuinely enjoy it.”

Y/N nods vehemently, sharing the same expression of utter distaste towards the subject. “It honestly doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why come here when you can go to, like, a nice bar somewhere, y’know?”

Harry blinks at her in astonishment, her opinion mirroring his own with psychic-like accuracy. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Great minds think alike.” Y/N responds playfully, taking a hearty gulp from her drink since the first time he’d spotted her from across the room.

After a comfortable pause, Harry speaks up, also entertaining another sip from his own drink, which is now nearly empty. “Are you from around here?”

She can’t be. Rarely anyone born and raised here is willing to bash the status quo, and never so openly.

She’s once again mesmerized by the attractiveness of his rings, but manages to get her composure in check. “Kinda. I moved here about two months ago.”

Precisely his point.

Harry releases a curious hum over the cup between his lips. “Let me be the one to officially welcome you to Cali, then! Where people go to shitty clubs for fun and tan themselves into a strip of leather.”

Y/N sputters out a half-suppressed giggle and Harry’s brows almost furrow at the weird fluttering in his stomach. He rarely gets it.

Y/N takes another deep gulp of what he thinks is probably an Old Fashioned, silently praising the way she’d finished it off so quickly. She crunches an ice shard between her teeth and lets it melt across her tongue before engaging again. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either though, are you?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to chuckle a bit and she fights off an endeared smile.

“What gave it away?” He asks, purposefully doing a thicker, fuller accent, his teasing nature making the grin she’d just stifled fully break through.

Y/N lifts a shoulder offhandedly. “Your accent seems a little too…posh for this area. Or even this hemisphere.”

Harry scoffs softly, the pinky around his glass sticking up jokingly as he kinks an eyebrow at her, a few rouge curls falling across his forehead. “Keen ears, mate.”

Y/N lifts her drink up a bit with a playfully knowing air, mimicking an English dialect. “Cheers.”

He places his empty cup down on the counter, his middle finger once more ghosting around the edge absentmindedly. She notices the pastel yellow polish covering his nails, tiny black smiley faces decorating the lacquer.

“I like your nails.” She admires, tipping her empty lowball towards his hand for significance. “Did you do them yourself?”

Harry glances at his fingers, stretching and wiggling them out, his features taking on a bit of pride. “Sure did.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever met a guy at a club who could pull off nail polish so easily.”

The left edge of his lips flicks upwards. “How do you mean?”

Y/N’s gaze bounces back to his and the tone twirling in his jade irises tells her everything she needs to know about keeping this conversation going: he enjoys being praised.

She chooses her next words carefully, wanting to appeal to his interests. “I mean that it looks amazing on you. The color suits your skin nicely, makes your hands look good.”

Harry breaks eye contact, glimpsing down at his shoes and she realizes he’s actually trying to hide a blush. The fact that she had managed to coax one out of him boosts her confidence while simultaneously making his own waver. He’s never like this— never so easily flustered. He needs to get it together.

Harry tilts his chin back up, lower lip strung between his two front teeth. His voice comes out as a flirty laugh.

“Known you for maybe,” he looks at the beautiful watch on his wrist symbolically, “ten minutes, and you’re already stroking my ego just the way I like it. I think that’s a record.”

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s the liquor she’d just consumed too quickly, or if it’s Harry’s intoxicatingly alluring scent dulling the region of her brain that controls fear, but she’s suddenly filled with a strange surge of courage and her thoughts are spilling down her semi-numb tongue before she can stop them. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at stroking, so an ego’s not too hard to handle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, surprised at her brazen reply. He might have misjudged her more than he assumed. However, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this girl more than the one he thought he was going to receive. There’s just something about how she can match his banter without a problem, and how they share a lot of the same thoughts and opinions, that just lights a fire in his stomach.

“Is that so?” His voice lowers in pitch and he scoots a step closer, fingers just barely brushing against her arm as he repositions himself against the bar. His question comes out as a sultry murmur. “What else can you handle?”

Y/N knows that she’s starting to cross a line, and with every passing moment, the likelihood of returning to her friends is getting smaller and smaller. She’s not mad about it. Riding off of the wave of confidence that had inflated her ego earlier, she mumbles her response back with the same tone and texture. “How about you buy me another drink and then maybe you’ll find out?”

Harry gives her a boyish grin and the indents that pop into his cheeks nudge his appearance from an incredibly attractive man to an adorable cheeky boy. He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks, only letting his eyes flicker away from her for the moment it takes to do it. “How do you like LA so far?”

“It’s...alright.” It’s Y/N’s turn to move closer to him now, flicking her hair off her shoulder, hoping that the motion releases the perfume she’d dabbed on her neck while getting ready. Judging by the darkening of Harry's eyes, it does just that. “It’s definitely a change in pace from where I used to live, but I think I’m slowly gaining the reigns. I feel like once I get acquainted, I could grow to love it.”

“LA’s definitely a toggle. You could either vibe with it, or it’ll eat you alive and spit you back out.”

She bats her lashes at him in stunned fright at his bluntness, his face deadly serious without any twitch or give.

Harry then bursts into high-pitched laughter, eyes crinkling shut and nose scrunching. “I’m just fucking with you, love. Ease up, hm?”

“You asshole!” Y/N exhales grandly, half in relief and half in indignation, slugging him on the shoulder. All she feels is hard muscle beneath.

He continues to cackle, sticking his tongue out at her. “Looked like you were about to cry.”

“It definitely crossed my mind, yeah!”

The bartender arrives with their fresh drinks and Harry tells the man to but both of Y/N’s on his tab. She feels her cheeks glow, telling him he doesn’t have to, but he waves it off and says he’s more than happy to serve such a nice girl as herself. Especially if she “hates the same things I do. Think of it as your initiation gift into the Anti-Club Club.”

A handful of heartbeats tick by, full of comfortable quietness as they both savor their new beverages. Harry pipes up first, regaining their topic from before.

“But, yeah, Cali’s for sure a special place. You meet some cool people if you hang around for a while. But sometimes,” he pauses for a second, eyes gleaming with something she can’t quite interpret. “But sometimes you can meet a really interesting person in just one night.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Y/N clicks her nails against her Old Fashioned distractedly as Harry fixes her with that beautiful emerald gaze that makes her ears tingle. She cocks her head to the side knowingly, flashing him a soft smirk. “Sometimes, you just happen to meet that one in a million.”

“A lucky strike.” He adds, lifting his tequila an inch off the counter and tilting it towards her in what appears to be a toast, irises dancing with a certain type of suggestive mischief. “To meeting interesting people.”

The human girl clinks the rim of her lowball to the edge of his cup, shrugging her brows and reciting his comment back to him. “To meeting interesting people.”

Y/N measures how the rest of their interaction goes by how quickly her drink shrinks.

When she reaches down to the first ice cube stacked on top, Harry has managed to coax multiple rounds of laughter out of her, his humor startlingly similar to her’s in the most refreshing way imaginable. She quickly learns that despite his broad shoulders, lean torso, dark inking, and flawless features, he’s a complete and total dork. His personality consists mainly of voice impersonations and contorting his expression into an endless array of silly faces, which she takes to easily.

By the time Y/N’s amber drink has reached halfway down its container, the default touch barrier between the two has broken completely. There had been a few caresses prior, but now it’s more frequent, more noticeable, and each touch extends in time. She had been the one to initiate getting physical, which had sat so right in her stomach because that meant he was respectful and patient— definitely unlike most men in clubs.

The mortal girl had gently shoved Harry’s chest when he’d made an nonchalant joke about how losing his swim trunks at a nude beach had been both the best and worst experience of his life, her cheeks boiling as she had felt nothing but more toned muscle beneath the cotton fabric of his top. She had gone back to tracing at his tattoos the further they got into sharing anecdotes and opinions, glancing up at him for permission in the middle of their exchange and smiling to herself when he’d nodded casually without a second thought. As the conversations continue, they both unintentionally get closer in distance to the point where the arm Harry had settled on the bar is now fully wrapped around the small of her back. She willingly leans into him, their knees and thighs brushing with every shift of their bodies and those minute moments begin to pile up their excitement.

By the time the alcohol in her possession bottoms out, she is nearly sitting in his lap, faces only a few inches apart. Y/N can’t recall half of what she had said, the subject having steered into so many different places that she couldn’t be bothered to keep track. Besides, she’s too focused on trying to keep a straight face as Harry plays footsie with her below the counter, his light yellow sneaker toying with her heeled velvet wedge.

An important question on his behalf snaps Y/N out of her flirty stupor.

“So how do you like your new home?”

She blinks at him slowly, partially to try and give a seductive tinge to the interaction and partially because the liquor has started to truly settle in. It takes her a few heartbeats to process the inquiry. “I love it, actually. It’s a place of my own, for the first time ever. I couldn’t be happier.”

The corners of Harry’s swollen lips tick in genuine happiness on her behalf. “That sounds amazing. Congratulations on such a big step.”

“Thank you! What about yourself? Renting anything neat?”

“Oh, I own a condo here.” He mentions casually, outlining the criss-cross pattern along the circumference of his highball glass. “I used to visit so often that I finally just decided to pull the trigger on one.”

“Look at you, investing in real estate.” She says in a teasing voice, her heel grazing around his calf slowly, cheeks sizzling as he parts his legs a bit to allow her the pleasure of traveling higher up.

“Mmhm.” Harry licks his red lips, free hand starting to trace over her own. The tips of his fingers are calloused and cold, the motion of them over her skin almost pulling a tremble out of her body. She does her best to restrain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Is it nice?”

“Hm?”

His lips twitch in endearment at how he’s managing to make her lose her train of thought. “Your apartment, darling.”

She rests the rim of her drink on the bottom of her lip as she speaks. “It’s nothing huge or fancy, but it’s a decent size and l can call it home. Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N loves how Harry's eyes flit to her lips for what she thinks is the billionth time tonight, his vision sketching along the curve of her cupid’s bow and dotting every peak.

Another warm glow of confidence spikes through her veins and she’s talking before she can analyze her thoughts. “Well, at least I think it can’t get much better than that. Although, I could just be biased. Could probably use an outside opinion.”

It takes Harry a moment to register what she’s suggesting, a light blush creeping up the base of his neck as he realizes how he’s stopped so abruptly. Humans usually never get him this unnerved and it’s one of many times she’s made it happen. “An outside opinion?”

Y/N lists her head to the side. It sounds like he’s accepting the vague invitation, but she’s so anxious to mess this up that she’s second guessing herself with every passing second. However, with every touch, she wants Harry more and more, and that’s enough to propel her towards a more direct approach. “Mmhm. Like yours, maybe. Would you like to come back and see it?”

Harry pauses for a few of her heartbeats, and then bobs his head in acceptance. She can breath again.

He finishes off the last inch or so of his tequila, a wicked grin creeping its way across his pretty, flushed mouth, long fingers carding into his loosely arranged curls. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

A smile works its way onto Y/N’s own face at his response, her foot dropping back down his leg slowly. “I’m glad to hear.”

“Mm.” Harry takes her hand completely now and she almost moans at how much bigger his are, his rings pinching a bit, skin rough in some areas, but silky smooth in others. And strangely icy, but she enjoys it. “Shall we say goodbye to your friends first? I wouldn’t want them to worry about you.”

He knows her “friends” couldn’t care less, but he wants to be as much of a gentleman as possible. Romanticize, romanticize, romanticize.

Y/N snorts, knowing full well that they’d probably purposefully embarrass her in front of him as a joke.

She squeezes his grasp lightly, giving him a soft smile. “You’re sweet, but it’s fine. They were actually behind you earlier, encouraging this whole thing, so I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.”

Harry hums deep in the back of his throat and the sound melts into a cute chuckle. “I’m glad they helped, then. Think you can deliver them my thanks some other time?”

The young woman chews on the inside of her cheek at his comment, realizing that it suggests he aims on keeping her occupied for the rest of the night and well into the morning. She has to will herself not to lurch forward and kiss at his annoyingly perfect lips right then and there. “I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

With one last cocky simper, Harry helps her down from the stool and pays off their tab, offering her his jacket since most of her outfit is made of flimsy fabrics. Y/N takes it appreciatively, lashes fluttering when his scent envelopes her like a blanket. It’s the unique smokiness from his cologne, mixed with a slightly sweeter smell that she assumes is his shampoo, and a bit of something that reminds her of a vanilla candle. The aromas are sewn into every thread of his coat and she can’t wait to have those scents glued all over her more deliberately later tonight.

Harry turns and plunges them into the throng of partiers, weeding through bodies with a type of determination that makes her insides twist. His arm comes up in front of him as he plows people out of the way with absolutely no regret, leaving her to throw out a few half-assed apologies in his wake. The idea that he’s excited to be alone with her has Y/N’s insides churning.

Once they escape all of the grinding limbs and tight spaces, stumbling into the cool air of the starry night, she takes a huge gulp of air. She prays it will tide over the jitters running along the inside of her tummy. She has just now realized how riled up he’d gotten her and it’s all coming to a raging boil.

Harry paces past the bouncer, throwing up two fingers in parting. “Later, Brock.”

The security guard gives the young vampire a confused look, not recognizing him at all and wondering how he knows his name.

Y/N repeats Harry’s phrase for the hell of it, squeezing his hand jestingly and he glimpses over his shoulder, grinning at her with sheer amusement and something much deeper swirling around the specks of copper in his irises. If there was a bit more light, perhaps she would have noticed the way his irises had glinted blood red instead of olive green.

She ogles at the way his back muscles shift and flex below his pastel blue shirt, her mind vaguely taking note of the light yellow detailings along the cuffs and collar. The tee is intriguing and fun and she hopes he’ll let her sleep in it after they’re done.

She also gets distracted by the baby curls decorating the nape of his neck. She’s itching to tug at them and see what his response would be. Would he shiver in her grasp and let out a soft moan, or would he smirk darkly and tell her to go harder?

Harry suddenly halts, snapping her out of her thoughts as he presents his car. Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off. “This is yours?!”

She gawks at the vintage jet black convertible before her, feeling like she isn’t worthy of its chic presence. It looks new, shining in the street lamps like a thousand diamonds, not a scratch or dent in sight.

Harry unlocks the passenger’s door, opening it and guiding her inside with a gentle pull at their clasped hands, shrugging his brows playfully. “Hope it’s not too shabby for your liking.”

“Are you kidding?” The human mumbles in awe as she ducks down into the patented leather seat, running her free hand over the elegant cover. She sighs softly at the way his smell is lingering inside the vehicle, just as much as it sticks to his clothes. “I feel like I should bow to it or something.”

He laughs fully now, leaning down to get a view of her sitting prim and proper in his favorite car, looking gorgeous in her flowy silk pants, lace creme blouse, and his own clothes. He gnaws at his bottom lip to withhold a needy groan. “I think you fit right in.”

Y/N feels warmth erupt into her face and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to distract her fingers from shaking. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at stroking egos.”

“S’hardly a task. You make it easy, doll.”

It’s the second pet name he’s called her tonight— it’s strangely vintage, same as his car— and she can’t wait to hear what others he has in store. Preferably in the form of breathy pants and broken whines.

Y/N flicks her gaze up at him through heavy lashes, attempting to stifle a sheepish smile. “Quite the charmer.”

A moment of silence suspends in the air, a light breeze filtering through Harry’s curls, swaying the jewelry around his neck as well as the earring hanging from his lobe. Harry speaks up with a type of hushed desire she hadn’t heard from him yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him once in mild surprise and then releases a sigh of utter relief. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.”

Her hand reaches upwards outside the confines of the car, knitting into the thick fabric of his shirt and yanking him down. The second their mouths meet, it sets off a dozen fireworks in the pit of her stomach. His is softer than she had imagined, wet and warm, and his tongue carries the sourness of the tequila he’d been swishing the whole night.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, and then a quiet whimpery moan streams down his tongue onto her itchy skin. “Christ, that was hot.”

As much as she loves the taste of him— the tartness of the alcohol mixed with an inherent sweetness his lips carry— she forces herself to pull away, but keeps her sweaty forehead pressed to his. “Yeah. It was.”

With one hand still gripping the car door, Harry uses his other to cup her chin lightly, guiding her into another kiss. Now that they have both developed a feel for the other, this one is less tentative than the last. She tastes so fucking good on his tongue, like strawberry syrup—probably from her lipgloss— orange bitters, and bourbon. He just has to have more of it.

A helpless gasp escapes Y/N when Harry's teeth graze against her upper lip, only nipping enough that she craves more. More of anything he has to offer.

He pulls away and the whine that plucks her vocal chords feeds his eternal soul like nothing else has in a while.

The young man grins at her for a moment, half in smug satisfaction, half red-faced and desperate, before carefully closing the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He slides in with ease, shuts his own door and buckles up with a click of the belt. The simple action has never looked so attractive before, but she’s certain that anything Harry does with his ring-covered hands would be attractive.

He fishes his keys from his front pocket, asking her where she lives in order to try and orient himself. As it turns out, she’s not too far away from his own flat. He knows exactly which condominium she’s referring to without having to even search it up— a perk of living here for a few decades.

He also chuckles to himself a bit at the fact that she hadn’t mentioned he shouldn’t drive under the influence. Vampires have an extremely high tolerance due to their self-healing properties, so the drinks he’d had only gave him a soft, warm buzz. He just finds it comical— and slightly arousing— that she’s so eager to get at him that she’d let that detail slip her mind.

Harry starts the car, but doesnt pull out of the parking spot. Instead, he glances at Y/N as a crease appears in his beautifully sculpted brows. The idea of something displeasing him bothers her, and she’s about to ask what it is when he murmurs a quick, “Just a second, dove.” He reaches across to grab her seatbelt, pulling it over her body and securing it into place on her behalf, making sure it’s nice and proper before leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t know why he cared to do it, but he had.

The simple action leaves another layer of heat on Y/N’s cheeks. Having him bent over her like that was just a teaser of what was going to unfold later and it already has her mind spinning. She can only imagine how much of a mess he’s going to leave her when there’s no clothes restraining them.

“Thanks.” She whispers, playing with the tips of her fingers.

“No need to thank me. Just wanna keep that pretty face in one piece.”

He plops one hand on the steering wheel as he shifts into reverse, carefully backing out of his spot. His arm ducks behind her seat, head turning and veins chiseling into his neck. It takes all of Y/N’s willpower not to lean up and begin to darken his tanned skin with hickeys.

Harry cruises up to the exit of the club parking lot, waiting impatiently for the turn signal, digits tapping away at the leather below them. Y/N can see him throwing pained little glances at her from her peripheral vision, obviously restless to feel her skin sliding against his. Each look causes the warmth between her thighs to swell.

She’s talking before she can stop herself, voice bashful and soft as ever, yet full of boldness from the liquor she’d consumed. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something to you that’s gonna get us both killed.”

The tapping of his fingers halts and he cranes his head to face her fully, ignoring the flashing green arrow on the stoplight before them.

Harry reaches over the center console, his nose dragging up the length of her cheekbone, causing her to squeak out a tiny whimper at the feathery sensation. It’s the first time tonight he’s touched her so intimately.

The sentence he grits out next makes her entire body visibly shutter, his breath hot against her ear, damp lips smearing over her jaw as his oath burns into her flesh.

“And if you say something like that to me again, I promise you I’ll pull this car over and make you eat every fucking word.”

2K notes · View notes

gallickingun · 4 years ago

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reassurance || oikawa tooru

SUMMARY: You and Oikawa Tooru have become close after spending weeks partnered together in your college course. You have an unspoken relationship, nothing exclusive, but Oikawa plans to change that once he realizes a toll his other female fanatics have on you and your confidence.

PAIRING: Oikawa x Fem!Reader RATINGS: T+ WARNINGS: language, negative feelings, anxiety, etc. WORD COUNT: 3.8k+

Author’s Note: This is my very first Haikyuu!! piece. I’m not sure how it ended up being Oikawa, but here we are! In the future, if you guys want, I’ll definitely do more Oikawa but also Sugawara, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama!

The jersey sits heavy on your shoulders – as if Atlas himself had bestowed the burden of carrying the weight of the world to you personally. Your back aches but you stand when the set is thrown across the court anyway, hands held close together in preparation of a clap.

He always gives you a reason to redden your hands in praise.

When the ball slams onto the court, his eyes turn to you – dark and playful, the lilt of a smirk on his lips. His left eye drops in a wink and as you bring your hand up to wave, your body tenses at the sound of screams from just behind your position in the bleachers.

“Oikawa!” They drag out each syllable of his name for an excessive amount of time, and the flirtatious drawl of their voices makes your skin crawl. They giggle in unison, a flurry of voices trying to be louder than the last, their laughter echoing off the gym walls, “Great serve!”

Your hands wring together in your lap as you find your seat again, eyes downcast so you cannot make out the frustrated expression on his face when you back down from them. He grits his teeth and curls his fists, but anyone looking on and unaware would believe he was just pushing himself to newer limits, a higher level to achieve. He is not known for his tendency to stagnate, especially not in a game where there are newscasters and reporters present, scouts for national level teams scattered in the stands.

“I heard he’s seeing someone,” a higher-pitched voice chimes in, just across your shoulder. Before you can turn your body to defend yourself, or the girl in question can continue, another one further to the left butts in, “Yeah, but I heard it’s not exclusive. Which basically means he’s still fair game.”

“He’s not a piece of meat, guys.”

You’re thankful for whichever third voice of reason pipes up, but the sheer number of girls giggling behind you does little to quell your spiraling nerves. The pit of your stomach is in shambles, your arms wrapped around your torso in an attempt to hold yourself together while the last set of the game winds down.

They’re not wrong, per say. You and Oikawa aren’t exclusively dating, not really calling one another pet names, or holding hands across campus. At most, you’re comfortable, your bodies walking in synch from building to building, finding it easy to fill the otherwise awkward silence with talk, or comfortable just basking in the quiet. He will throw an arm around your shoulders and kiss your temple, but the actual affection is saved for when he walks you to your car or you spend the evening studying in his dorm.

The two of you started off as lab partners, forced to spend extra time outside of class together to study and put together a project that’s worth a decent amount of your semester grade. In that time, you’d grown to enjoy his company, and he started inviting you out with his teammates and their friends after practice and to parties, and even to study together for other subjects outside of the lab class you were taking.

It was not long before your mouths found one another and your hearts grew to become intertwined.

And now, here you are, stood in the stands, your body on the edge of your seat as he twirls the ball in his palms, blowing a breath through his teeth as he steps to the edge of the court. He toes the white line, as if mentally marking the spot, the start of a smirk on his lips as he grows more confident with each passing second. Your heart stalls within your chest, just as it always does, when the ball is thrown into midair, spinning so quickly you can hardly see the multi-colored stripes, rather each piece blurring together to create one dark hue.

Oikawa manages to throw another service ace, bringing the game to match point in favor of your school’s team. As the ball is rolled back underneath the net, he turns to look at you, undoubtedly gazing directly into your eyes, tilting his head in your direction and blowing a kiss from the center of his palm.

You reach your palm out into midair, stretching your digits so your hand is wide open. It is a silly thing, something the both of you started when you had to be across campus from one another, unable to meet up for lunch or coffee or studying. After a moment, your fingers wrap around your empty palm, grabbing his intangible kiss from the space between you. He watches intently as you press your digits against your lips, the ghost of his kiss on the ridges of your fingerprints. As your mouth curls upward in a smile, Oikawa’s expression lilts to match your own, the faintest hint of dimples dipping into his cheeks on either side.

“If you think that was for you, then you’re delusional,” the tinny-voiced girl from before leans down to whisper in your ear, her hand menacingly placed on your shoulder, like a weight meant to sink you to the bottom of the ocean. “It was obviously for me. I have my linguistics course with ‘kawa, and he and I were partnered up for a project this past week. He’s so totally into me, even offered to carry my books.”

Her heels look pointed enough that she could pierce your throat or your eye with the tip, so you merely shove her hand off of your shoulder and turn around, clapping as Oikawa tosses his next serve up in the air. You rally with the rest of the crowd, whooping and hollering when his hand hits the ball, a loud echo from the slap making you wince.

When you look up, the ball is in play, volleying back and forth from one side to the next. Oikawa’s face is flushed, hands at the ready as he takes his position. After a few more moments, a perfect set from Oikawa to your team’s ace lands them the final point they need to win the set.

The entire crowd goes ecstatic, everyone standing to their feet, ringing their bells and blaring their horns, clapping their hands as the boys on the court jump up and down and hug one another. Oikawa has his arm around the ace, tugging him to tell him something close in his ear, but his eyes wander to the crowd, finding you in an instant, dropping his left lid down in a wink. You can’t help the way your heart constricts within your ribs, like a caged dove desperate to fly free. Your hand are over your face as the teams both line up to thank one another for the game, and once they are released to the locker rooms, you start to gather your things.

You hear a snicker from above you, and when you turn your head, a thin, beautiful brunette with blue eyes is glaring down at you, a smirk tugging upward on her thin, peachy lips. She cackles, crossing her arms over her ample chest to multiply the appearance of her size, “I hope you’re not waiting around for ‘Kawa. Prepare to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed in what?”

The familiar, smooth voice in your ear sends your whole body into a stupor. You look over your shoulder, but he’s already so close to you that you can feel the heat of him against your side. Oikawa’s palm slides into the back pocket of your jeans and your tongue lolls back in your throat, near choked on the organ as you watch him sidle his attention to the girls stood behind you on the next row of bleachers, an unassuming expression aligning his features.

Your body flushes with heat, face warm to the touch and your backside where his hand is currently placed is practically throbbing at the attention. Oikawa pulls you in tighter, your body tucked into his side, and he smiles, eyes near-sparkling underneath the fluorescent gym lighting.

“Hey pretty girl,” he kisses the crown of your head, squeezing you with his elbow that is around your back as best he can, “did you enjoy the game?”

Glancing up at him, you make eye contact and it floods your body with a familiar warmth, your stomach doing flips and your heart pattering within your chest, “Yes, you did so well! That’s two more service aces than last game!”

“That’s my girl.” Another kiss is pressed to your temple, his lips warm and smooth against your skin. You note that he’s being even more affectionate than normal, and you have to wonder if it’s in response to seeing those girls encroaching on your space. “Now what was this about being disappointed? Not in my game, was it? I know I screwed up a couple of times, but I think I redeemed myself alright!”

You turn to the girls stood in the bleachers, their faces paling in color as their jaws hang open just slightly, his words doing little to reign them in. The expression on your face has morphed into one of self-satisfaction and smugness, lips quirked into a smirk, one brow cocked upward, “No, ‘Ru, I think you did great. These girls were just worried you weren’t paying attention during the sets, is all.”

Oikawa stifles a laugh before it can break through the aloof expression he is wearing, eyes wide as he narrows his gaze to the group of college girls now stammering and blushing in regret for sticking around this long. He reaches behind his head to rest his palm on his neck, cocking his jaw slightly to the side to relay even more of an innocent appearance. You turn your body closer to him, his chest pressed against yours from the side, your arms circled around his waist. Now his hand in your pocket is on full display, thumb jutted out from the fabric, but the other four fingers are perfectly slotted against your backside.

“I’ll admit I was a little distracted,” he scrunches his nose, eyes crinkling at the edges as he does so. He turns from them to you, sliding his other hand down your ribs to your free pocket, aligning the fronts of your bodies so your chests are flush. Oikawa’s honeyed gaze is lingering on you, and for the moment you feel like there is a spotlight on the two of you, center stage as he brushes the tip of his nose against the bridge of your face.

“I knew you were coming to the game, all decked out in my jersey. I couldn’t help but stare at you between sets.” Your cheeks burn as he kisses your forehead, but you can’t help the uneasiness that you feel swirling in your stomach, dripping down your throat like acid. You wonder if his intentions are pure – is he truly claiming you as his in front of this crowd, or is he merely trying to throw them off of his scent, using you as bait?

Oikawa tugs on the hem of the jersey adorning your torso, something akin to pride shining in his warm irises, quelling the turmoil in your belly for just a moment. “You look adorable in my clothes.”

The shrill one out of the three speaks up, pushing herself onto her tip-toes to appear taller, looming down over you both, “B-But I thought you guys weren’t allowed to let other people wear their jerseys?”

“Oh yeah,” Oikawa waves his hand in midair, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “I got special permission from the coach, he said since I was the one who closed our last few games with those service aces, he’d let me loan the jersey out to my girl.”

At the mention of my girl, Oikawa turns to kiss you on the forehead, tucking your head beneath his chin as he holds you closer. He smiles over the top of you at the group of girls, a smug tone seeping into his words, in spite of his innocent expression, “Are you girls here for someone?”

They all begin to stutter in jumbled tones before scrambling down the bleachers, apologizing and taking their leave. The door to the gymnasium has hardly shut before Oikawa bursts into a fit of laughter, holding you by the arms as he takes in your bashful expression. He leans down, trying to remain close despite the noisy crowds maneuvering their way through the gym, “You wanna grab something to eat? Coach gave us tomorrow off from practice, so I don’t have to head back to the dorms just yet.”

“Yeah,” you nod, your hands pressing flat to his chest, jersey stuck to his skin with sweat. You scrunch your nose in response, shaking your head and forcing a disgusted sound from the back of your throat, “You better shower first though, Tooru, cause I’m not going anywhere with your stink.”

Oikawa squeezes your backside gently with his limited grip, hands still stuffed in your pockets, “I’ll be out of the locker room in a few minutes. You can wait for me in the car, okay?”

Your hand finds his keys, jingling as you move your hip, the lanyard weighing heavy on your beltloop, “Yeah, okay.”

His eyes find you instantaneously, your tone dropped an octave as you loop your index finger through the o-ring that his car key is attached to, your knuckle crooked around the cool metal, as if you were keeping it safe from harm. Oikawa pulls you forward with a gentle tug against your backside, your body enraptured with his as he looks down at you, his nose brushing your forehead.

“Thank you for coming,” Oikawa’s lips are against the dip in your brows, running down the bridge of your nose, “I think you’re my favorite good luck charm.”

You can’t help but chuckle sarcastically, your fists curling around his jersey, “As if you need any good luck, ‘Ru.”

Oikawa withdraws his hands from your pockets, but pats your ass gently, causing you to stumble into him until your bodies are flush. He laughs into your hair, kissing the crown of your head affectionately before releasing you.

He’s walking away, but he makes sure to call over his shoulder, “Of course I don’t, I’ve got you!”

You’re trying to contain your blush all the way back to his car, wringing your hands in front of your body, twirling his car keys between your knuckles. You play with the fob attached, his name embroidered with his number and the school’s logo – a gift you bought for him a few months into the semester. He pulled you into his lap when he made out what it was, his hands cupped around your thighs as your knees settled on either side of his hips, gentle words parting his lips: “How is it you already know me so well?”

You are alone in the car for a good twenty minutes, and you pass the time by listening to the radio and scrolling through several of your social media accounts and checking your emails from various professors. Before you know it, he’s startling you when he opens the driver’s side door. You press your hand over your heart, eyes widening as he slips into the front seat, long legs slotting beneath the steering wheel.

Oikawa reaches across the console to press his palm to your thigh, squeezing the fleshiest expanse of skin gently, “Hey, pretty girl. What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Your palm finds his knuckles, a soft smile upturning your features at the gentleness of his mannerisms. Oikawa’s thumb brushes back and forth against the inner seam of your jeans, leaning his torso closer so he can nudge his nose against your cheek in a teasing motion. His smile can be felt against your skin, the corners of his lips upturned along your jawline.

“You.”

The answer is nothing short of truthful. He does not have to know in what capacity you’re thinking of him, only that you’ve given him the real reason as to why your brow is crinkled and your gaze is far-off rather than focused on him. Your heart twinges within your chest and your stomach grows sour the longer you think about those girls and what they had to say, how quickly they disregarded you.

“You’re adorable,” his mouth finds your cheek in a chaste kiss before he settles into the driver’s seat and shifts the car into reverse. Oikawa’s hand never leaves your thigh, pinned there by the immovable force of gravity, held in place by sheer will. Even as he orders at the drive-thru and maneuvers the car to the nearby park, his palm does not waver. It spreads a contagious heat, like a virus pricking at your veins, begging to be let in to devour you whole until you are nothing but a shell left behind by his affections.

Before you know it, the car is parked and Tooru is helping you out of your side of the vehicle. His hand is on yours and you almost stumble on your way to the meadow-like section of the boardwalk. You toe off your shoes and kick them to the side, sat in the grass as he straightens out a blanket he keeps in his car for times like these.

You are quiet as you nibble on your food, playing with the wrapper in between bites. Oikawa lets you stew in your own thoughts for a few minutes before he is breaking the silence, leaning his body into your personal space to shatter the box you’ve built around yourself.

“Is everything okay?” Oikawa’s hand is on your knee now, searing into your skin with the ridges of his fingertips, “You’ve been rather quiet since we left the gym.”

Immediately, your mind is thrown back to the scene you witness just before leaving. The group of girls all ganged up against you, sneering and snickering at your excitement at Oikawa’s success, as well as his affections towards you. Doubt crawls up your spine like a shadow, clutches it’s spiny claws into your shoulders and latches onto your skin, an itching starting that you know cannot be quelled with words alone.

“Wh-What did you think of those girls at the end of the game?”

You are taking a chance, stepping out onto a tightrope with no net underneath to catch you if you fall. Oikawa owes you nothing – there is no commitment, no promise that the two of you have made to one another. Is that not what the girls were saying? That you were not exclusive to one another, and therefore you have no claim to him.

The entirety of your body grows heavy as he speaks his next words, those golden brown eyes finding something off in the distance to focus on, “They were pretty, I guess. Not really my type, how about you?”

It is meant to be a joke, you think.

Oikawa is using his typical flat tone that he has to channel for when he is being overly sarcastic and must mask it before his façade falls into a fit of giggles. And still, the twitching of his lip, the telltale sign of his impending grin, does nothing to force your fear to the side. Rather, it multiplies at his false confession, building to a crescendo of acid within your belly, lapping at the innermost parts of you until you’re broken in the worst ways.

“Hey, I’m just teasing-”

A palm brushes your cheek but you are too numb to notice. Your eyes are lost, focused in on one blade of grass near your feet, trying to count the shades of green that reflect off the moonlight up above. The air surrounding you is like a balm, but you wish it were a salve; anything to help soothe the burning of your soul.

The charred ashes within your stomach start to suffocate you, floating up your esophagus until they burn the base of your throat and choke your tongue from the inside out. Tears simmer against your lashes and your face flushes with the threat of emotion taking over you like an apparition.

The feel of a knuckle against the underside of your chin, the fleshiest part, is what breaks you from your downward spiral, Oikawa’s voice quick to follow, “You can talk to me, you know.”

Your hands seek out his proximity, palms curling around his sweatshirt as the temptation to ask your questions sits on your tongue. The acid drips down the muscle to the back of your throat to meet the ashes, your jaw locked as you try to speak. Oikawa’s hand expands along your neck, thumb brushing against your jugular to coax the words from the base of your throat.

“Do you like me?”

A silence stretches between the two of you for a short moment before his fit of giggles breaks through it. Oikawa slots his hand into your hair and nuzzles your nose with his own, “Do you really think I would ask coach to break the jersey rules for me if I didn’t like you?”

You begin to babble, stuttering syllables crossing your lips as you try your best to defend yourself. Your hands go clammy and your tongue feels thick in your throat, eyes flitting across his face while you attempt to compose your emotions. Before you can force a full sentence from between your teeth, Oikawa has captured your lips in a kiss.

His mouth against yours melds your thoughts together until your mind is mush, unwilling and unable to create coherent thoughts. Your fingers shake against the fibers of his sweatshirt, shaking with the need to have him closer. He feels your desperation and smiles into the kiss, his own hands curling around your frame. He wants you closer now, as if the non-verbal confession has created something new between the two of you, a fresh bloom to admire and showcase.

As he pulls away, Tooru is still grinning, “I didn’t want to rush you, but I want you. Whatever that means for you. Relationship or not.”

“Relationship,” you are quick to answer, eager as you push yourself up on your knees, closer to his face. Your lips find his again, arms wound around his shoulders so you can be flush against his torso, fingertips brushing through his hair. He encourages you onto his lap, hands flat along your shoulders to steady you as you find your balance.

Oikawa’s nose nudges down your cheek and jaw, nipping kisses creating tiny red, aggravated marks against your skin that fade within moments of their origin, “You have nothing to be jealous of, princess. I promise.”

Your cheeks burn at his recall of your earlier admission, the insecurities eating away at your innards even through his affirmations. Oikawa licks his tongue along the column of your throat, forcing a shiver up your spine, and successfully redirecting your attention from your throttling thoughts to his warm mouth.

“If you still don’t believe me,” his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, eyes full of mirth as he gazes up at you through thick lashes, “then let me show you.”

---

not gonna lie..... this is NOT my favorite piece so if you made it this far thank you! if you’d like a second piece, one a little more spicy in nature, please let me know!!! or if you have any drabble/thirst requests i’d love to answer them!!!!!

bokuto is my next victim so be on the lookout for that! hopefully we’ll have lots more haikyuu posts in the future!

#oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #morgan writes hq #my writing

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jasons-exposedspine · 4 years ago

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Negan and Lucille Chapter 1

Summary: Negan is completely captivated by Lucille and she is captivated by him too. But she is hiding a lot of pain behind her fake smile.

Warnings: language, abusive father, kissing, mention of self harm.

A/N: i began writing this because i thought it would be good to have a multi chapter series of Negan and Lucilles life. From school to their marriage to Lucilles sickness. If you get triggered by abusive parents or any abuse at all and self harming you can skip this chapter and the other chapters to come. I’ll put warnings for those chapters.

Relationship: Negan x Lucille

The pitch lights were shining bright as Negan was waiting in line beside the fence to bat, it was the biggest game of the season. Negan loved baseball and he had fun playing in grade eleven. He had already batted three times but he enjoyed it, being able to hit the ball as far as he could. He had a good swing and he hit the ball further than anybody else in the team that he was in. Negan was last in the line because he had just batted in a line of five and they all get obviously one turn. The feeling of the wood of the bat was smooth under his fingers as his grip was loose on his slugger.

He turned his head towards the stands and sitting right in the middle was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hair was as dark as the night sky and her eyes were as blue as the ocean. Her skin was the perfect tanned completion similar to his in a way and her smile could light up a room. He didn’t understand how he had not noticed her before, she was a vision. She turned her head and looked dead into his eyes, she flashed a small smile and gave a small wave. He smiled widely showing his beautiful dimples and waved back, she giggled and turned her head. He had to get to know her and he had to ask her out now he just wanted the game finished.

He stared at her the whole twenty minutes that he was in the line then the sound of the couches voice pulled him out of his trance. He lifted the bat above his shoulder ready to hit it hard. The ball was thrown and he watched it sail through the air, he swung the bat hard and the ball flew so far away. He dropped his bat and the dirt kicked up as he ran as fast as he could. He saw in the corner of his eye that girl in the stands standing up and cheering for him. He slid in the int and his foot touched the white mat before the ball could and he had helped the team win on that home run.

All the boys on the team crowded around him and cheered him and pat him on the back. He just wanted to find that girl in the stand so he walked slowly across the pitch to the fence. It took him a while before he spotted her in the crowd, she was walking towards him. He smiled as she walked towards the fence to talk to him, his heart was beating fast in his chest as she approached him. “I noticed you staring at me” she beamed her voice was sweet. She knocked the breath out of him, his palms were sweaty and he blushed deeply.

“Yeah fuck I’m sorry for being all creepy and shit but I couldn’t un notice such a fucking beauty such as you.” She blushed deeply “I’m Lucille” she said holding out her hand “I’m Negan” he said taking her hand and shaking it. “Nice home run by the way” she commented “thanks I’m the best fucking batter in the team.” He tried not to boast but he wanted to impress her. “Um did you wanna go out sometime?” He asked fiddling with his hands, fuck he had never been this nervous around a girl before.

“Sure I’ll give you my number” her smile was so beautiful, he loved it. He grabbed his bat and settled it on his shoulder as he followed her through the crowd. She was wearing baggy jeans, a oversized evil dead t-shirt and black boots and her hair was down past her shoulders. He followed her into the parking lot to an old black ford that was parked next to a willow tree. She pushed the key into the driver side door and unlocked it. Negan leaned his bat against the side of the car as he watched her pull a piece of paper and a pen out of the glove box.

The wind blew through the tree making a few leaves drop down onto the top of her car and it made her hair wave a little. She handed him the strip of paper “do you wanna give me yours?” Negan took the pen from her hand, his fingers brushed hers and they both blushed, he wrote his number on the paper. She took the strip of paper from him and put it into the front pocket of her jeans. “Do you need a lift home” she asked pushing they key into the ignition and turning it to hear the purr of the engine.

“Nah I got my fucking car but I’ll talk to you at school tomorrow.” She smiled at him again “ok well don’t fucking crash” he chuckled at her comment. “Don’t fucking worry yourself doll I won’t” he snatched up his bat as she closed the door of her car. He began walking down the isle of cars as she backed out of the parking space. As she drove past she beeped her horn and he waved to her and a huge grin spread across his face. Lucille had liked Negan for a while but she never thought she would have a shot. He always had all the pretty girls and Lucille never thought she was pretty.

Her father told her that she was a useless whore and that she was fully and he still told her that to this day. Her father hit her and her mother too but her mother was too afraid to leave her father. Lucille wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend by her fathers rules but her mother didn’t care. She had a boyfriend when she was fifteen but he left her because of her father and he wasn’t good to her either. Negan lived with just his mother because his father wasn’t good to his mother and him so she took Negan and left.

The girlfriends he had weren’t really girlfriends they were just a quick fuck that wanted something more afterwards. But the girl he had just met was different, she made him feel nervous and shy he was never like that around girls. She was gorgeous and he wanted to know what her personality was like. Usually just wanted a pretty face and some sweet pussy but this girl he wanted to know more about.

The next day at school Negan found Lucille sitting on the stands by the playing field. Her long black hair was blowing the wind as she was drawing on a fresh page of her sketch pad. She looked up ever few seconds to look at the scenery and sketch it on the page. She was wearing a Marilyn Manson shirt with ripped jeans and black biker boots. His heart began to pound hard in his chest and his palms were sweaty. He took a deep breath in and walked towards her on the stands, the metal of the bench seats creaked under his feet.

He sat down next to her on the seat and she turned her head, a smile spread across her face. “Hey Negan” she said sweetly “hey Lucille” fuck why was he so nervous around her. “You can call me Lu y’know it’s fine” her Southern drawl was stronger than his and he loved that. “So did you wanna go to a party some of my friends are having tonight?” Lucille knew her father would say no but she wanted to go with Negan so she was gonna lie and say that she was go nan stay with some friends.

“Sure Negan what time?” Negan smiled “how about seven will that be ok?” Lucille nodded. “Pick me up on the corner of Lowell street which is my street” he smiled widely and his heart nearly exploded. “Fucking great i can’t fucking wait Lu” she giggled at his excitement which only made him smile wider. He looked over at her sketch book and saw a drawing of the playing field and it looked just like what he was seeing in front of him. “You draw well” he commented making her blush, she looked out to the playing field. “Yeah i do it to keep my mind off of shit” Negan stood up “i gotta bounce but i’ll fucking see you tonight Lu.”

He bent down and kissed her cheek softly making her blush and giggle. “ok Neeg’s i’ll see you tonight” he liked that nickname but only she could call him that. Once was out of sight he jumped up in excitement “fuck yes” he whispered to himself. Lucille squealed with excitement “fuck yes” she giggled, she was so excited for tonight and she knew just what to wear. Luckily her father was working the nightshift so her mom could help her get ready.

Once school ended Lu rushed home in her car to go shower and get ready, she basically ran through the door. “Hey Lu how was school?” Lucille rushed into the kitchen all jumpy and excited. “Well someones excited” her mum said smiling “mom i met a guy last night called Negan and i’m going on a date with him tonight.” Her mom rushed over to her and grabbed her books out of her hands and put them on the wooden kitchen table beside them. “Lets go upstairs, go shower and you pick what you wanna wear and i’ll do your makeup.”

Lucille was so excited, she flew up the stairs and showered. She ran to her room in her towel, she had another hour to pick what to wear and her mom could do her makeup. She went into her closet and picked out her black dress that went down to her knees, she picked out her sexy black lacy panties and bra. She slipped on her black stockings and then her dress with sleeves, she put on her doc Martens with the red roses on the sides. She brushed her hair and did two braids that went into a little ponytail so her black hair was half down half up. She then put on all her bracelets on her right wrist to cover her scars and new wounds.

Her mom came into her room and began to do her makeup, first her foundation, then her eyeliner, then her black and purple eyeshadow, her mascara and last but not least her nude lipstick with gloss over it. Once she was done she flew back down stairs and out the door down her street to wait for him on the corner. She waited two minutes until she saw a black truck come speeding down the road. As soon as he saw her his blood rushed straight to his dick and his hair stood on end. He pulled up and got out of the drivers side and walked around to the passenger side door.

He was wearing a pair of black jeans with a grey t-shirt and a black leather jacket that was unzipped and his dark hair was slicked back. He opened the passenger side door and held out his hand, she took it “ma’am” he said as she stepped into his truck. “Thank you sheriff” she said letting go of his hand he smirked as he closed the passenger side door. Her heart was beating fast as he got back into the truck sliding onto the bench seat next to her. “Lets fucking go doll” he beamed as he sped down the road, truth is he was so fucking nervous.

“Where are we going Neeg’s?” she asked looking out the window at the sun going down over the hills. “The party’s in the fucking woods near a hill we’re almost there” he said that just as they turned off the road to a road that led into the woods. After a few moments of driving they pulled up next at least ten other cars and there was light from a bonfire. Negan killed the engine and got out of his truck and walked over to the passenger side door. He opened it and held out his hand, Lucille took it a stepped out of his truck. “Thank you” she said letting go of his hand, he closed the door and locked the truck. He bent his arm at the elbow offering for her to take his arm and she took it by slipping her arm around his.

The cool leather his jacket making goosebumps appear on her skin, the sound of ACDC was playing loudly and peoples voices could be heard. Lucille wasn’t the most popular girl in school she was like the loser so she was nervous about being seen with Negan. As they walked into the space there were people sitting around the huge bonfire making out and drinking. Some were dancing and smoking and some were sat on the roof of the blue truck parked near the fire.

Lucille felt like just running and hiding but she didn’t want to upset Negan and he was good so far. “I’m gonna go and get a fucking drink you want one Lu?” she slid her arm from his and looked up at him. “Can i have a beer please?” Negan nodded “i’ll be right fucking back” he leaned down and kissed her cheek. Returned around and walked over to the table that had cartons upon cartons of beer. Lucilles dress had pockets so she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and her silver zippo.

She pulled out a cigarette and put it between her lips, she flicked the lid open of her zippo and flicked the flint. She lit the cigarette and flicked the lid of her lighter closed and put them both back into her pocket. Lucille took a long drag before before blowiangthe smoke into the cool night air. Negan approached her with their beers in his hands. He handed her her beer and she took a long sip of it before holding it beside her. Negan saw the cigarette inner hand “can i have one?” Lucille pulled the pick and her zippo back out of her pocket. She pulled a cigarette out and handed to him and she handed him her zippo. She took another drag before turning her head to blow the smoke away from Negan’s face.

“C’mon let’s sit by the fucking fire” Lucille nodded in agreement and followed him over to one of the many logs placed around the fire. Lucille took another sip from her beer as did Negan. “So who do you live with Lu?” she turned her head to look at him, his hazel eyes were sparkling. “I live with my mom and my dad but we are pretty fucking poor and my dad is an asshole.” Negan’s face softened “i live with just my mom cuz my dad was a fucking asshole too.” Lucille smiled “I guess thats one thing we have in common” she said taking a drag of her cigarette.

“I guess it fucking is” Negan replied taking a drag of his cigarette, Negan still felt nervous. “I gotta take a piss i’ll be back” Negan said placing his beer on the ground and getting up. He walked off into the woods, Lucille just sat their finishing her smoke and sipping her beer. Blonde headed girl walked up to her “oh no” Lucille thought it was Samantha the girl who bullied her. Lucille flicked her cigarette and stood up from the log and she came face to face with Samantha.

“Well if it isn’t Lucille the whore” Lucille just rolled her eyes and scoffed “says the one who gets guys to pay her to fucking suck them off.” Samantha chuckled and rolled her eyes “so why you here just to find someone to fuck?” Samantha scoffed. “No i actually have a fucking date unlike you” Lucille retorted feeling braver than she ever did. “Oh yeah who with your dad” that comment hurt Lucille a little “no Negan actually.” Samantha laughed hard “Negan wouldn’t bat an eye at you, you’re just a fucking loser with a rapist for a dad bitch.” Lucille just ignored her comments even though the ones about her father were true.

Negan walked into the fight and stood in front of Lucille. “Well actually you’re fucking wrong she is my date Samantha” Negan drawled. Samantha stopped laughing and swallowed hard “why would you want to date a fucking lowlife like her when you could have a girl like me.” Negan chuckled “because she doesn’t suck guys off for money and she is actually fucking genuine not like you. Your just a fake ass whore who only wants men who can fucking own you and buy you every fucking thing. So leave Lucille the fuck alone or i will fucking sort you out myself” Samantha just looked blankly at both of them and stormed off.

Negan chuckled as she stormed off, he turned around and excepted Lucille to begin tears butte wasn’t. “You didn’t have to defend me y’know, i’ve been putting up with her most of my life.” Negan moved stepped closer to her and reached up to push a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know you can but she had to be put into her fucking place she should know better and fucking live you alone now that i’ve fucking sorted her out.” Lucille looked up at him “thank you for defending me, guys have never really done that for me before.” Negan smiled at her before taking her hand and pulling her back towards his truck.

She didn’t question him she just followed him along. He opened the passenger side door for her once again and she stepped into his truck and slid onto the bench seat. The truck shook slightly when Negan shut the door, he walked back around to the driver side door. He sat on the bench seat and pulled the door closed and pushed the key into the ignition and the truck started. He backed the truck out and drove it back down the road they came down and turned right on the highway.

Lucille looked out the window and watched the street lights speed past her eyes, Negan was the only guy who had ever stood up for her like that. Negan turned into one of the many diners in their town and parked the truck at the front of the diner. “What do you want to eat Lu?” Negan asked as he was getting out of the truck. “Whatever you’re having but i want a chocolate milkshake please” Negan smiled at her “sure just stay here i’ll be out fucking soon.”

He closed the driver side door and she watched him walk into the diner. While he was in the diner she sat and thought about him. He was sweet and funny and he hadn’t put a hand on her, yet this was their first date. But she could tell that he wasn’t like that, she didn’t know how she knew she just did. A part of her was afraid, if her father found out god help her and her mom. Lucille was afraid that if she told Negan he would leave her and she didn’t want that. So at that very moment she decided to not tell Negan about her father and her boyfriend rule.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the driver side door opened and Negan placed the bag of food in the middle of the bench seat. He then handed her her milkshake “thank you” she said softly as she took it from his hand. Negan got into the truck with a drink of his own and pulled the door closed behind him. “Alright doll lets fucking go” he said backing out of the parking space and turning left on the road. The smell of the food was making her mouth water and her stomach grumble but she was patient.

Their date wasn’t over yet but she didn’t care she didn’t want to go home. Negan turned off the road onto a dirt track that led to the top of a hill. He parked the truck on the top of the hill and killed the engine, the truck was facing the moon. The moon was full so it lit up the sky and the area that surrounded them. “You wanna come sit on the fucking hood?” Lucille nodded, the paper bag with the food it cracked as Negan picked it up. Lucille jumped out of the truck and walked around to the front of the truck, she placed her drink on the hood. she then climbed up the bull bar and leaned her back against the windscreen. She grabbed her drink and took sip.

The truck shook when Negan climbed up the bull bar he set the food down in between them and sat down. Negan unlaced his boots and kicked them off and threw them into the open window of his truck. Lucille did the same as him and laid back down staring at the sky. Negan handed her food to her and she took it saying thank you as she always did. She unwrapped the cheeseburger that he got her and bit into it. They just sat there quietly and looking up at the sky, both to nervous to say anything.

Lucille had finished her burger so she scrunched up the paper it was wrapped in and threw it into the paper bag. She took a long sip of her drink and set it back down on the hood of the truck. “The moon is so pretty tonight” Lucille said nervously “not as fucking pretty as you.” Lucille blushed deeply and her heart was beating fast in her chest. “You’re just saying that i’m not pretty i’m fucking ugly” Lucille scoffed. Negan turned his head to look at her but she was looking forward. “Lucille look at me” Lucille turned her head and was met with his sparkling eyes.

“Don’t believe a word that fucking bitch says you are fucking beautiful and you aren’t a whore she is. You are a sweet and fucking caring person who deserves the fucking world. That fucking bitch doesn’t deserve anything in the world” Lucille stared into his eyes. She turned her head back to look at the sky but Negan kept staring at her. She really was beautiful on the inside and the outside, this was their first date but from what he had seen she was sweet and caring. He moved his hand slowly towards hers and he slowly laced his fingers with hers. Her hand was much smaller than his and he thought it was cute that her hand was much smaller in his big one.

Goosebumps spread across her skin and her heart was beating faster in her chest. It began to get cold so her body shivered slightly, Negan noticed. He let go of her hand and sat up to take his leather jacket off. He draped it over her shoulders and she pushed her arms into the sleeves, it was warm from him wearing it. They both played back down against the windscreen and Lucille grabbed his hand again, their fingers intertwined.

His jacket smelt like nicotine and mint along with leather it was intoxicating and she loved it. Lucille shifted a little closer to him feeling the heat radiating from his body. Negan’s heart was beating fast in his chest as was hers, he turned his head to face her. They stared into each others eyes, Negan reached up to cup her cheek and softly caress it. He shifted closer to her so they were only a breath apart and their noses were touching. He leaned his face closer until his lips pressed softly against hers and she instantly melted against him. Negan pushed himself up so the upper half of his body was over hers.

She tangled her fingers in his dark hair while her other hand was on his shoulder. Negan cupped his cheek while his other hand was on her stoking covered thigh. Lucille’s tongue traced the seam of his lips and Negan complied by opening his mouth. Her tongue licked against his and explored his mouth he tasted like chocolate and mint. He moaned quietly at the taste of her like chocolate and nicotine.

Negan shifted in between her legs, she bent her legs at the knee a placed her feet flat on the hood of the car. All that could be heard was the wet sounds of their lips and Lucilles soft moans. She had never been kissed like this by a boy before usually it was dominant and emotionless. But with Negan it was slow and loving and the feeling of him grinding softly against her core was making her love it even more. They made out like this for at least thirty minutes before they were both hot and flustered and Negan pulled away.

“I better get you home baby” Negan said pecking her lips, Lucille was dreading going home. She picked up her drink and jumped off the hood of the truck and opened the passenger side door. She jumped into the truck and pulled the door closed behind her Negan started up the truck and drove back down the road. He turned left onto the highway and started heading back to her street. Lucille moved her hand on top of his and laced her fingers with his. She was scared but she did her best to hide it so she just squeezed his hand.

Negan looked over at her and noticed the fear in her eyes he turned his head back to focus on the road. “Whats wrong Lu?” he asked concern lacing his words “nothing Neeg’s i’m fine just drop me off where you picked me up please.” Negan knew something was up he could tell by the fear in her eyes and the way she was squeezing his hand. He turned down her street and pulled up at the corner where he picked her up from. “Thanks for dinner Negan and thanks for sticking up for me” Negan smiled at her and rubbed his thumb softly over her knuckles.

“No fucking problem baby i had a good time too did you wanna do this again on Tuesday?” Lucille thought for a moment she knew what her dad would do but she didn’t care “sure i’d like that” she replied. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips then pulled away and kissed his cheek softly. She opened the door of his truck and stepped out all the while still holding his hand. She grabbed her boots in her other hand and looked up at him hiding her fear behind her smile. Little did she know he could see right through that fake smile and he could see she was scared.

“Oh you’re jacket” she went to take it off “no its ok you keep it on you look badass with it on and it fucking suits you.” Lucille blushed and her heart swelled with love and it distracted her from the fear she felt. He leaned down and brushed his lips over the back of her hand softly and she smiled back at him. She walked backward still holding his hand but her fingers were sliding from his grasp. Her pinky finger curled around his until her hand was fully pulled away from his. It was like if she let go of him she would get hurt which she was when she got home. Negan pulled the passenger side door closed and blew her a kiss she caught it and blew it back.

Negan drove off leaving Lucille with love and fear in her heart. She walked home slowly dreading what was to come, she walked up the path to her house and gulped as she turned the doorknob of the front door. She opened the door and closed it softly behind her and her dad appeared from the kitchen. “Where have you fucking been Lucille?” her father growled she cowered in fear. “I was just out with sone friends daddy no boys i promise” fear was slowly filling her as he walked closer to to her.

“Where did you get that jacket?” he asked looking over it “one of my friends gave it to me its one of hers.” Her father raised his eyebrow “you’re fucking late Lucille” she swallowed hard. “I know and i’m sorry daddy i just got held up” her dad lifted his hand and back handed her across the face and she fell to the ground. “Thats no fucking excuse you know the fucking rules you little slut!” he spat as she wiped the tears falling from her eyes. “Y..yes daddy i’m s..sorry” he scoffed, she pulled herself up from the floor and stood up.

He slapped her again but much harder and she wiped her face and ran up the stairs and locked her door. She ran over to her bed and buried her face into the pillow and cried her eyes out. She pulled Negan’s jacket tighter around her and she inhaled deeply, his scent calming her down. He made her feel good and mostly he made her feel safe like her father couldn’t touch her. She dried her tears and stood up from her bed and wiped off her makeup and got into her pyjamas. She put Negan’s jacket back on and zipped it up and fell back onto her bed his scent calming her once again.

LIKE OR REBLOG FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!

@you-a-southpaw-doll @savedpeople @negan-morningstar @negan-the-cat @smcc212 @negans-lucille-tblr

#negan x lucille #soft negan

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whereisten · 5 years ago

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Hero, Yuta, & Me

Summary: Your pet sitting job lands you at the doorstep of the magnetic Yuta Nakamoto, owner of the cutest Shiba Inu on the planet, Hero.

Multi-part Series: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Part 3

Word Count: 3.2k words

Kaia, Joanna, and Taissa drove over to your house to pick you up and drive over to Jaehyun’s house. You went with a dark blue dress that hugged your curves nicely. Your heels could poke an eye out.

You arrived at Jaehyun’s Spanish villa style home. Jaehyun came from a wealthy family but because of his soccer career, his wealth multiplied tenfold. The house probably had sixteen bedrooms AND sixteen bathrooms. In order to enter to Jung estate, you and the girls had to give your names at the security gate. You raised your eyebrows at the opulence and exclusivity of it all.

Kaia parked her blue Corvette (which your dress oddly matched with) and the four of you walked through the impressive garden entrance. You knocked on the door and were greeted by a butler who reminded you very much of Alfred Pennyworth circa The Dark Knight era.

“Welcome to the Jung estate. Master Jung is expecting you. Please come in,” he said.

Of course, Jaehyun had a British butler.

“Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars was playing from some admittedly amazing speakers. You recognized a lot of your classmates. Doyoung and Johnny were in an intense round of pool. Youngjae was belting it out in the karaoke room. Senior dance captain Lisa was at the center of the dance floor. It was surreal seeing everyone again after so long.

You and the girls were served some of the most amazing frozen margaritas in existence. You clinked glasses and talked about everything and nothing for a while.

You noticed that the party playlist was a 2012 playlist, highlighting the year you graduated. “Thinkin’ About You” by Frank Ocean played as you found yourself worried about Jaehyun popping out at any second.

The beautiful song paused. Then, you heard someone clinking their glass.

At the top of the grand staircase was the ever extravagant and ever extra Jaehyun Jung.

“Hello everyone!” Jaehyun yelled to the partygoers. He was met with cheers and whoops.

He continued, “Thank you so much for coming out. I’ve missed each and every one of you since we graduated.” His eyes met yours then.

Taissa cleared her throat. “Yikes.”

“Enjoy the night! There’s plenty of booze and make all the noise you want!” Jaehyun proclaimed.

Everyone yelled then as the music changed to “I Love It” by Icona Pop. More people went to the dance floor, drinks in hand.

“You guys saw that, right?” You asked.

“Anyone who’s had two drinks or less did, Y/N,” Kaia answered.

“He’s coming this way, y’all!” Joanna whispered a little too loudly.

Jaehyun sauntered his way over to you. You felt a little smaller and you hated that.

“Hello ladies,” he said as he smiled his angelic smile.

You had to hand it to the boy. His smile was so benevolent.

The girls all muttered greetings while you said, “Hi.”

“Y/N, I’m really glad you came,” he said as he smiled.

You sighed. “Well, how could I turn down free drinks?”

He laughed. “I deserved that.”

“Among other things,” Joanna muttered.

Jaehyun acted like he hadn’t heard that. “Y/N, can I speak to you alone?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. “Sure.”

Jaehyun led you to the gorgeous gazebo in the backyard. Candles were lit all around it. Technicolor flowers and lights sprinkled all over the top. It was so beautiful you wanted to pull your camera out and take photos at every angle.

Jaehyun sat down at the bench and you sat down as well, keeping yourself three feet apart from him.

Jaehyun fiddled with his champagne flute when he started. “You look great, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help the blush. Curse your seventeen-year-old self that was rising to the surface.

You snapped out of it and met his default flirtatious gaze. “Let’s cut the crap. What did you need to say?”

At first, Jaehyun averted his gaze and stared down at his lap. But then out of respect for you, he gave you eye contact as he delivered, “I am so sorry.”

That was the first of many things you wanted him to say. He just needed to beat himself up a little more before you caved and forgave him.

“For what?” You prodded, teasing him and acting like you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Jaehyun continued, “For blowing you off at prom and being scum of the earth.”

“Oh! That,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“I was a jerk. And you were right. I was a coward.”

“I like what I’m hearing, good sir,” you said as you downed the rest of your margarita.

“I owe you an explanation. Not that it’s an excuse but I need you to know what happened.”

Your ears perked up at that. You were interested. You thought it was because he didn’t deem you cool enough or some other bull. But deep down you always wondered if there was more to the story.

“I’m listening,” you said.

“Candice’s dad was my old soccer coach. Taught me everything I knew and helped me book deals and sponsorships. But he was manipulative and wanted more of a cut of my earnings than he was given. I got caught up with some drug dealings senior year and he threatened to out me if I didn’t increase his pay and take Candice to prom.” Jaehyun looked smaller then as he shrunk in shame.

“Drugs?” You were shocked.

“I was an idiot, Y/N. I got clean after graduation. Told my parents everything. They cut ties with Coach Lochlan because they had some dirt on him. I took the summer to go to rehab and kept training.”

“And Candice?” You added.

“Candice had no idea about the drugs or what her dad was up to. She was a family friend. She always thought we would end up together even if we fucked around. So when I asked her to go the night before prom, she thought it was because it was the real deal.”

“Oh,” you managed to say.

“And...I didn’t know how to tell you. I felt horrible. I knew if I called you, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. If I texted, I...just couldn’t do it.”

“So Facebook messenger?” You asked in disbelief.

“I know. It was stupid and selfish and everything else,” Jaehyun downed the rest of his champagne.

You both sat in silence for a minute. The partygoers came in and out of the house. The vibe of the party was euphoric and carefree. The bubble you and Jaehyun created was not.

“Y/N, you have to know I liked you a lot back then,” he said.

“I figured you didn’t find me repulsive when you asked me to prom,” you said. He really pulled out all the stops back then. He convinced the soccer team to help him perform a slightly tone-deaf version of “I Swear” by All-4-One. You remember crying from laughter that day.

“I am so sorry,” Jaehyun repeated.

“So how are you now?” You wondered aloud.

“What?” Jaehyun was confused.

“Are you clean? For real?” Even if you thought Jaehyun was an egomaniac and a coward, he was still a human being with feelings and a family and a future.

Jaehyun nodded fervently. “I’ve been clean since the summer after senior year. Soccer was my only focus after that.”

“Look, what you did to me was cruel and humiliating. But...now that you told me what happened...It’s still cruel and humiliating...What you went through was terrible and I hope you’re clean now. I don’t want you to get messed up with drugs. It’s not a life for anyone. So...I forgive you.”

Jaehyun’s smile came back full force. His prominent dimples were bigger than you’d ever seen them. “Really?”

You nodded. “It’s in the past now.”

Jaehyun said, “Y/N, thank you.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you told me the truth. It must not have been easy for you to say it.”

Which made you wonder.

“Wait a minute,” you said.

Jaehyun’s smile faded.

“Why are you telling me this? Won’t this get you in trouble?” Jaehyun’s drug use was never revealed to the public. You would’ve known. He was one of the biggest celebrities in the world so whether you liked it or not, his life was out there for you to always get updated on. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, you name it.

“I was betting on you keeping it a secret.”

Well, that was a bombshell. “And what if I’m not the decent girl you remember?”

Jaehyun lifted an eyebrow at that. “You haven’t changed that much, Y/N.”

You asked, “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve kept up with you on Instagram and Twitter,” he blurted and turned away from you.

You coughed. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve kept up with you on-“ He said as he avoided your stare.

“How? I would’ve blocked your ass,” you said.

“messi_214 was me. On Twitter.”

Curse you for accepting any and all follows on Twitter.

This meant he had seen everything. Your One Direction phase. Your very brief 5 Seconds of Summer phase. Your descent down the anime hole. Your rants about your family and your life. Your desperate longing to go to Barcelona and meet Messi. Your crude humor with your friends.

“Oh, no,” you said as you made yourself smaller. Trying to hide.

“You are hilarious,” Jaehyun said as he laughed at your reaction.

“Oh, God, why?!” You asked yourself, Jaehyun, and the big man upstairs.

“As for Instagram, Doyoung let me scroll through your feed whenever we met up.”

“Jaehyun, that’s a little creepy.”

“I would’ve messaged directly if you didn’t hate my guts so that was the next best thing.” He shrugged.

“You lurker,” you said as you shook your head. “Tell me you didn’t see everything.”

“Believe it or not, I have a life. I’ve been pretty busy...Mrs. Irwin.” So he did see everything, including your crush on drummer Ashton Irwin.

You smacked his arm. “Son of a!”

He laughed. “Y/N, the most vile thing you’d do is trash talk Real Madrid on Twitter. So...I trust you with my secret. But...I’m letting you decide. Say something or don’t, I’ll respect it and face the consequences.”

You weren’t going to expose Jaehyun. When he told you, you knew you would take his secret to the grave.

“I won’t say anything, doofus,” you said.

He perked up at “doofus”. “Y/N, thank you.”

“I do have one favor to ask you.”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, ready to buy you a car, a dozen handbags, and a plane trip to Fiji, if you asked.

You blew out a deep breath. “Don’t lurk anymore. Just follow me on Twitter and Instagram. As yourself. Not as messi_214 or as Doyoung. I won’t block you.”

“You promise?” His eyes were hopeful.

“I promise,” you replied.

Yuta was on his way to pick you up from the party. He was taking you to a late drive-in movie. Hero was coming along so you were even more ecstatic. You packed a change of clothes in Kaia’s car.

You and Jaehyun parted ways after your conversation. He surprised you by asking for your number but you didn’t think too much of it. He probably just wanted to commemorate your renewed friendship. It wasn’t like he was going to call tomorrow and ask to go play air hockey at the local arcade. So you gave your number to him. You thought he was just being nice. The next time you saw him would probably be at your high school’s ten year reunion.

Kaia walked you back to her car to unlock it for you. “So how did it go with Jaehyun? I’m dying here.”

You laughed. “He explained why he blew me off and...I saw things differently. His actions aren’t excusable. But...I forgave him.” You didn’t tell Kaia about the drug use but you told her everything else.

Kaia nodded. “I see. So this means he’s probably going to ask you out soon.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Y/N, he’s been keeping tabs on you for basically a decade. I hardly think it’s because he cares about your Stranger Things updates or your song recommendations,” Kaia grabbed some chapstick from her glove compartment as you grabbed your bag.

You shook your head. Jaehyun had moved on. He probably only liked you in the most innocent way in high school, too. He probably wouldn’t have asked you out again after that. Everyone had grown up and become different people. High school was long gone. He just wanted to make amends. And you did. “Kaia, no.”

Kaia sighed. “Y/N, he likes you.”

“Kaia, he does not.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.”

You were even more confused. “When?”

“When you two were talking outside. It was obvious. When you looked away from him, I saw it in his face. He looked like it physically ached him not to touch you.”

You laughed. “Kaia, you got all that from a look?”

Kaia rolled her eyes. “If stalking you on social media isn’t proof alone, you’re hopeless.”

You leaned onto her car and looked up at the night sky. They started fireworks in the backyard. “Even If he did, it wouldn’t mean anything.”

Because Yuta captivated you. And that was that.

Kaia got back to the party as you waited in front of the security gate for Yuta. A few minutes passed and he pulled up in his Challenger. You heard barking.

Yuta pulled down the passenger side window and gave a low whistle as he looked at you in your dress. “Have mercy.”

You laughed. “Hi, baby.”

Hero jumped from the backseat to the front to lick your chin from the window. “Hi, beebs! I missed you!”

“Hey! I’m waiting for my kiss,” Yuta whined.

You opened the passenger side door and were careful not to let Hero jump out. Hero moved to the backseat. You fastened your seatbelt and looked back at Yuta, who looked like an impatient kid.

“You have to put on your seatbelt to kiss me?” He asked.

It was funny. Regardless of a car moving or not, you automatically put on your seatbelt. You blushed, about to unfasten your seatbelt when he moved over and planted his lips on your mouth. He embraced you and you felt the warmth of his skin on your bare arms.

Your heartbeat was all over the place. You loved it when he took you by surprise. Yuta was a mischievous man who liked to mess with you and reward you all at once.

He tucked your side bangs behind your ear and just smiled at you in adoration. You looked stunning and he didn’t want to share you with anyone else.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“So I wasn’t the first soccer player to turn your brain into mush?” Yuta was annoyed.

You told him what you told Kaia about Jaehyun because you didn’t want to keep things from him and have it blow up in your face later.

“I’m afraid not, stud,” you said. You gave Yuta all kinds of cute nicknames.

“Pisses me off,” Yuta rolled his eyes as he muttered in Japanese. Hero was sleeping in the backseat. You were at the Galaxy Drive-In Theaters. The trailers were playing before Toy Story 4 would come on.

“Are you jealous?” You loved it.

“Damn straight. You know he’s into you, don’t you? I’ll kill him.” He aggressively grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth.

“Yuta,” you laughed. “He is not.”

“Don’t deny it, Y/N. That pisses me off even more.”

Honestly? It wasn’t that much of a stretch. But so what? Jaehyun had a life of his own away from Miami. God knows how many women he was sleeping with. He wouldn’t pursue you. Did he think you were hot? Probably. But that wasn’t enough incentive for him to go out of his way and ask you out. You would become an afterthought to him.

Maybe he just wanted to ease up on some of the guilt he carried. His drug use was enough for him to look back on. Earning your forgiveness must have helped him feel a little better.

“Fine,” you said. “Maybe he does like me but who cares? I like someone else.”

Yuta eased up a little, ready to hear you sing his praises.

“Taeyong is number one in my heart,” you said. Taeyong Lee had been your celebrity crush since his debut single “Let’s Get It (feat. A$AP Rocky)” came out in 2018.

“I hate you,” Yuta pouted as you snatched the popcorn.

“I know,” you said. You absolutely relished in messing with him.

Toy Story 4 was way better than you anticipated it to be and you found yourself tearing up at the slightly unexpected ending. You had a feeling it would end the way it did but you still cried. Yuta had his arm around you and you leaned in closer to him, enjoying the scent of him.

“You big baby,” Yuta said as he sniffled. It seemed he also had a soul.

“Hypocrite,” you muttered.

He laughed as he kissed the crown of your head. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” you managed to say without your voice cracking. Your first night with Yuta.

You got back to his house in record time. Hero fell back asleep in the living room, which left you and Yuta in his kitchen.

Yuta could tell you were nervous. “I can make tea. Or do you want something else to drink?”

He was so kind and considerate it killed you. “Tea’s good. I’m actually hungry. Mind if I steal a scone?” Yuta made the best blueberry scones and oddly enough, they were your favorite pastry.

He smiled. Your love of food made you all the more adorable to him. He loved feeding you. “Not at all, sweets.”

Oh yeah, he also had all sorts of cute nicknames for you, too. You two were so nauseatingly sweet that anyone who came into your vicinity needed a filling.

Once you two ate some scones and drank his favorite green tea, you walked into his bedroom.

He picked you up and sat you on his bed. His eyes were the most intense you’d ever seen them. He had his hands on your shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. You fell back on the bed and he got on top of you.

He kissed your neck and moved his way down the valley between your breasts. He looked back up at you, waiting for an answer. You nodded.

The thing about Yuta is that even though he liked to tease you and lived to make you turn red, he wanted you to feel safe and protected. He made you feel like the most precious thing in the world. Like you were above Aphrodite. So when he made love to you that night for the first time, you knew that no one could ever make you feel this good.

Back at Jaehyun’s party, your friends were dancing and having the time of their lives. Jaehyun surprised everyone when he halted the music once again. He stood at the top of the staircase again.

“I’ve been dying to tell you guys this all night. I was just waiting for the final confirmation from my manager. I am moving back to Miami because I am joining the Inter Miami CF team!!!!!” Jaehyun yelled at the top of his lungs.

Joanna and Taissa looked at each other and said. “Shit.”

Jaehyun looked out into the crowd and looked for you. He was so busy mingling with everyone but hoped to run into you later on so he could ask you to come see him play. But you were nowhere to be seen.

Part 4 (Coming Soon)

A/N: Thank you so much for the love for this fluff. I really appreciate it! So yes, you are correct...Someone is gonna die next chapter or get a black eye. I don’t know. But it should be fun!

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ego-driven-one-wing-angel · 5 years ago

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All Ya’ll Suck - Be Nosey Q&A

THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. But a promise is a promise lmao~ So here’s all 50

What’s your sexual orientation?

Demisexual

What are you obsessed with right now?

Final Fantasy and my cats. 😭

Ever done any drugs?

I’ve been offered but no.

What piercings do you want?

I want my triple Helix done so bad.

How many people have you kissed?

A BIG FAT 0

Describe your dream home.

I’ve always been in love with tiny homes. So I would LOVE to have something similar to an Eco pod in Scotland. With a hot tub, a giant forest background, small enough for me and my cats and maybe my S/O. It’s almost like a studio apartment but just shoved in the forest and I would enjoy it 100%.

Who are you jealous of?

Probably anyone in a healthy, committed relationship? I’m not much to be envious of others, but when I see couples that are just perfect for another, it makes my heart sink a little because I want that.

What’s your favorite show to binge?

Supernatural, House MD or Criminal Minds.

Do you watch porn?

I’ll admit, I’ve seen some hentai. BUT I SWEAR IT WAS FOR THE DAMN PLOT. I also read this Yaoi NSFW manga a few years back, and honestly, I should have guessed it was NSFW because it was wrapped in plastic so you couldn’t look inside. I bought the first two novels, and honestly, they love story in it is probably one of my favorites. 😂

Do you have a secret sideblog?

I DO. It’s a House MD blog.

If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?

Hmm. I have no idea. Scotland for their eco pods? But also I want to go to New Zealand so bad.

What’s one of your fantasies?

Becoming a multi-millionaire writer with a PhD in Forensic Psychology. And having one of my books turned into a tv show or movie and flipping the bird to everyone in high school and middle school who thought I couldn’t make it.

Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced?

Ouch. No. I don’t have them pierced but I don’t think I ever could. I give props to those that went through with it because anytime I think about a needle coming for my nipple I kind of want to pass out.

How would you spend a million dollars?

Buy an ECO POD. That’s it. Maybe a couple of Louis Vuitton handbags to match my other ones, but that’s it. I’ll probably give the rest to my mom and she could buy herself the beach house she’s been wanting the past three years.

Are you in a relationship?

Nope.

Do you follow porn blogs?

No. Sorta. Well, kind of? This particular blog doesn’t post straight porn, but it does add a few aesthetic NSFW photos and gifs occasionally. Like more Witchcraft and Dark aesthetics.

Are you angry with anyone right now?

Myself. And maybe my math teacher. I just took a math test and it was timed so I only had an hour and a half to take it. I didn’t get to answer like 4 questions and it brought my math grade down 🙃

What tattoos do you want?

Oh man, I want a lot lmao:

I want a small, american traditional cat just below my ankle.

A watercolor fox on my thigh

A pair of angel wings across my back

A star wars lightsaber on my finger

A watercolor Captain America shield on my hip

I want Cloud’s buster sword and Sephiroth’s masamune down both sides of my thighs

And a little bee or paw prints behind my ear

If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to?

Probably Katherine. That name has been my pseudonym for years. So it’s almost like a second name already.

What is something you’re obsessed with?

Pens. I’m one of those people that have a million pens and markers. I blame the art side of me, but I just like the idea of new office supplies.

Describe your best friend.

Rambunctious, ambitious, always knows how to make others smile. Halo-obsessed, classic Capricorn, and absolutely LOVES chicken nuggets.

Tag someone you think is hot.

@/SebastianStan

Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists?

Gorrilaz

Queen

Billie Eilish

Melanie Martinez

St. Vincent

What are three places you want to travel?

Scotland

New Zealand

Brazil

Describe your perfect Friday night.

Drinking my Dad’s Mexican hot chocolate, playing video games, and sitting with my cat all sounds pretty good to me.

What’s your favorite season?

WINTER

What’s your pet peeve?

I have this thing where my ears like die when people scrape their fingernails on walls. OR Styrofoam rubbing against cardboard. GROSS.

Who is the funniest person you know?

Me. Or my mom. We both have the same sense of humor.

What’s the most overrated movie?

Fight Club. I watched it and was just flabbergasted on how much traction this movie has? It’s okay but not cult classic type of hype.

Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message.

@ALL OF MY FOLLOWERS

Do you like paper books or ebooks better?

Paper books. I own a kindle and it’s just not the same. I have over 1,200 paper backs and hardcover copies of books. I can open my own library at this point. And I have four boxes of books that sit in the corner because I ran out of bookshelf spaces.

If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick?

Probably Final Fantasy 7 or Ridley Scott’s Legend.

If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like?

Probably full of Calvin Klein sweaters. I already have about thirty but they’re the comfiest and softest sweaters I own.

What’s your coffee order?

I like a classic caramel frap with two shots of espresso.

Do you have a crush on anyone?

Sephiroth. But in real life? No.

Do you still have feelings for any of your exes?

I’ve never had an ex lmao.

Have any tattoos?

NO BUT I WANT SO MANY

Do you drink?

I’m a social drinker, so I only have wine or mixed drinks when it’s a party. I don’t like drinking by myself.

Are you a virgin?

Yes.

Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

Not really. But I don’t know much about any of you 😭

How many followers do you have?

I just got a whopping 126. But this account is new so getting that much in about three-four weeks is pretty good to me!

Describe the hottest person you know.

Like someone I know personally? Because that’s what I’m going for:

Skin like olive, baby blue eyes, white teeth accompanied by a set of dimples. Dark, curly hair that fits past his ears. Perfect skin, perfect smile. He’s a good friend of mine and we all call him hottie because he makes the girl’s swoon.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

Watching Nanny Shows on youtube. I don’t want children nor do I like children, but watching these shows is like crack. I can’t stop watching them once I start.

Do you read erotica?

I write it. So take a guess.

(yes.)

What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

I’ve been on very little dates as is, but there was a story I never told anyone because it’s disgusting and embarrassing. But this guy whispered in my ear he wanted to wear my underwear and I deleted his number the moment I went home. I try not to kin-shame, but on a first date? Super weird.

How many people do you follow?

I’m not sure, like 78 I think now?

If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick?

Sebastian Stan. I love him so much.

Describe your ideal partner.

Probably just as much as a nerd as I am, sweet, compassionate, likes to stay in and play video games during the weekend. I’m not picky.

Who do you text the most?

My best friend.

What’s your favorite kind of weather?

Rainy or snowy!

Oh I DID IT! ALL 50.

9 notes · View notes

heechulhamster · 6 years ago

Text

The Truth You Can’t Hide II - Junmyeon

KIM JUNMYEON (SUHO) x Fem Reader

Chapter 2[The Truth You Can’t Hide MASTERLIST]

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 ongoing

You did it so well for six years. You’ve hid your son from the biggest threat of his life. But one mishap led to the biggest secret in your life being face to face with the man you’ve kept him away from all these years - his father.

Mafia!AU, Angst.

This goes a bit way way back, enjoy the back story. :)

The ache that grew on your overworked feet didn’t even stop you from scurrying down the building and get yourself a cab. Not even bothering to free yourself out of the restraining work clothes. You’re not even sure if Junmyeon still lives in his old penthouse unit in the busy center of Seoul. The address itself was vague in your memory, the streets surely did change a lot for recognition for the past seven years. The city was noisier than ever, full of blinding lights and buzzing people of various appearances. There are more skyscrapers that filled the skyline, and the luxurious condominium you knew very well towered over the others. You could only look at its uppermost floor amongst all the glimmering lights of the city, hoping that in there is your son.

It wasn’t that you’re thinking that Junmyeon would ever hurt Jaejin. There’s this knowledge deep in your heart, past all the anxiousness that his apparent secret life brings you, that Junmyeon is still this gentle and well meaning man that you used to love. And the fact that he now knows that Jaejin is of his own blood just assures you that he is safe. This fear in your mind is this possibility of not seeing him again. That he’ll see this opulent and lavish life as better than he experiences with you. To grow up in a life like his father’s - to have servants at your beck and call, all that you wish will be laid down on your hands with a snap of a finger. Or that maybe Junmyeon will have all this pent up anger and desire to retaliate hiding your son from you. And with all his power and wealth, you know that if wishes to keep Jaejin from you, he’ll do it very well.

But there’s this hope in your heart that Junmyeon is the same loving guy you met over a decade ago.

The scent of both sweaty bodies and alcohol flooded your senses, both of which you weren’t accustomed to. Your friends, Haein and Ara who took the same major with you, convinced you that joining a sorority is a must and vital to Legal Management students. As these “sisters” would eventually help you once you reach law school. So now here you are, clad in a white dress that flowed just above your knee with a white feathery headband on your head guised as a halo. Apparently, the theme was something Angels and Demons. With your refusal to wear any skimpy and tight red or black bodycon dress, the exact thing Ara and Haein went for, you just sticked with the Angel part of the theme.

You three are at your 2nd year of college. And after the gruelling rules of the recruitment the last semester, all neophytes are excited to be rewarded with this soro-frat mixer - and you’ll lose the term reward very loosely. Mixers like these seems to be intended to find the members’ next college boy toy or some random exciting hookup for the night. Both things you aren’t exactly into.

You wouldn’t exactly call yourself a prude, but you’re not really outgoing either. Growing up in a conservative and traditional family, you grew up preferring reading books and staying in over the common high schooler choice of partying outside. A trait that wouldn’t get you very far in college.

To add to your discomfort, the party rules would keep you out of Haein and Ara’s company the whole night. It was a shackles mixer, where you’d practically be chained to a fraternity member the whole night and forced to get to know them. So you sat at the sorority house kitchen, far from the booming lawn and pool area without any idea who your designated partner would be.

“Is your ticket number 63?” A rather good looking, lean man towered over you as he suddenly asked.

You looked at the red ticket you’ve drawn earlier that read the exact number as he asked. “Yeah?”

The lean man tugged a somehow smaller man, one you could say that also was as dashing as the previous one. “Here she is man, told you you’re in for a treat. Bye, hyung!” The taller man with dimples you could swim in walked away laughing, leaving you and the smaller man alone.

“So, 63?” He asked with a smile, his small iridescent teeth and puffy cheeks making a notable appearance. You shyly nodded, noting that he also took the Angel part of the theme and he’s sporting a white short sleeved button down and white shorts.

“We uhm.. Kinda have to use this?” He raised his left hand that held cuffs, an act which you just chuckled to and agreed. He fixed the cuffs on your wrists and sat beside you on the kitchen counter.

“I’m Junmyeon, by the way. You?” You smiled at his pleasantries, his manner of speaking really spoke of class and formality. Not that you’re surprised as the college you’ve been in was almost considered to be for the elite and the wealthy. So you tried and respond with the same manner.

A silence filled with awkwardness filled the air between you and Junmyeon as everyone else unleashed their wild side around. The restroom was just adjacent to the kitchen and you just pretended that you don’t hear the filth going on inside.

“Oh dear that was strong.” You scrunch your face on the strong burning taste of alcohol on the punch you just drank. The unassuming fruity color packed a whole lot of kick down your throat.

“This? It’s not that strong.” Junmyeon responded beside you, gulping down his own glass serving of the punch.

“I’m not that good of a drinker.”

“Yeah, I noticed that you’re not much of a party goer.” He chuckled lightly, and the way his eyes disappear as it gets pushed by his cheeks was just a wonderful sight.

“I only got forced to go by my friends. They said it’s like a quintessential part of college, so here I am.” And then you remembered Haein and Ara, two of which you haven’t seen in the past hour. You turned your head around, looking for any signs of them.

“If your friends are the ones paired with Kris and Luhan, you won’t probably see them anywhere here right now.” Junmyeon downed another glass, lifting your cuffed hand along. You looked at him, baffled by the vagueness of what he said. “They’re probably upstairs, or maybe or maybe not here at all. You know, devils doing some devil things.”

“Oh.. yeah. I forgot that things happen very fast here.” You answered, sipping your straw for another sting just to hide your embarrassment. It’s been more than half an hour and you’ve just sat on a kitchen counter with Junmyeon, you thought that you’re probably boring him out. “I’m sorry that tonight may be pretty slow for you.”

“What?” His hands gripped the edges of the marble countertop, face turned to the side to look at you. “No, it’s not a problem. Don’t be sorry. I’m not interested in that.”

You weren’t able to help your face turn into a frown, to be blatantly rejected even before you took consideration of liking the man beside you. Sure, his wonderful appearance makes you flustered and shy, and you were more than interested to get to know him more.

“No, ugh. I didn’t mean that I wasn’t interested with you. I mean… hookups aren’t my thing. Slow is more kinda how I like it.” He said joyously before ending it with a wink which made your cheeks glow a bright shade of pink.

Unlike common romantic novels or narratives of college love, you didn’t hit it off with Junmyeon quickly afterwards. After the night of the mixer, which ended abruptly after some fratboys hitting the power supply with their illegal firecrackers, you seldomly saw Junmyeon. You found out that he was already a Junior, and he and his friends were a couple of frat members with great connections so they were able to sneak in at the party.

He wasn’t in the campus very often either. Rumor had it that he’s from a very rich family that runs a shipping conglomerate and that he takes units overseas. The very few instances that you ran into each other was only marked with a smile or politely calling each other’s names. Ara and Haein, who had bigger social circles than you, shared things that they learned about Junmyeon. Apparently, he majored in Business Management and was the only heir to their multi million business. And that he’s often considered too busy to date despite the few random flings he had just to keep himself a healthy young man.

It took another term before you got to connect with each other on social media, and you’d use the term connect very scarcely as he posts so little. Only a few posts about his recent trip to Paris, or the time he toured Italy.

College sinked in your skin too fast. You’ve dated around, you considered it to be an act of dipping your feet in the vast oceans. You had to be out of your comfort zone and you’re afraid of all the things you’ll regret trying.

It wasn’t even until your Junior year that you properly got to converse properly again with Junmyeon. You volunteered for an outreach in this student organization that required a lot of help to pack goods for the victims of a recent devastating storm. The long test week was over and you had a lot of free time, so you went and signed yourself up.

It’s still vivid in your memory how you only opted to wear a loose pullover and shorts. Not even bothering how you looked as comfort mattered most in working long hours of boxing food. You sat in the basketball gymnasium filled with busied people and stacks of instant ramen and canned goods. You sat down in front of a small box and started filling it with all the necessities, neatly stacking three cans of sardines and six packs of ramen inside with a bag of two kilos of rice. Silently, you finished box after box when you were suddenly interrupted by someone who sat beside you.

“Hey angel.”

“My name’s not ang-” You said as you turned your head to the perpetrator. Stopped immediately by the warm chocolate brown eyes that had contact with yours. “Oh, Junmyeon. Long time no see.”

“Yeah, senior year is really that busy.” He laughed as he sat down beside you and started packing his own boxes too.

“Why are you here then? Ah, you probably heard that I’ll be here so you went and signed up too eh?” You said in a teasing manner.

“Woah, where’s the slow and shy girl that I knew back at the mixer? College sure did change you.” Junmyeon said, which made the two of you laugh. “No, actually my father is one of the sponsors so, you know. It would just make sense for me to be here.”

“Okay, whatever Mr. Rich guy. Let’s just pack here so we can finish earlier, I have a lot of essays to write.”

The long hours flew by easily as you chatted with Junmyeon. It seemed like putting canned goods into boxes just went automatic on your hands as you lost yourself on the galaxy of his thoughts. He told you stories how he was mistaken as a celebrity in Italy, and the day he almost tripped off an ancient sculpture at Rome. Junmyeon had inserted a lot of jokes along the way, ones that you don’t think you’d laugh at if not for the budding interest you had for him. In return for his enthusiasm in sharing his stories, you told the narrative of you running into your roommates getting it on. Not understanding what it meant to have a sock on the door. And you sure do hope that the survivors of the recent floods would feel the extra love and happiness that filled along the boxes that you packed.

You thought that day would be very much like the mixer, nothing but an episode of sweet nothings. A wisp of memory that you’d look by after a few months or years and wonder why all he was is a fleeting fancy. No, this one was different for he asked your phone number after packing almost a hundred boxes. It was different because he called you that very night, asking if he could interest you to go out for dinner. It was different because Junmyeon was far different from all the flings you’ve encountered before him.

Junmyeon wasn’t the kind to be nervous for a date because it seemed as if he had everything planned down to the last detail. A fine silk void of creases and he left no room for mistakes. He picked you up at your dorm on the dot. He cleaned up very well with his exquisite dress shirt, obviously branded - probably even haute couture. He rolled up with his Benz, looking all shiny and polished. Junmyeon exuded so much calmness during the ride that you felt as if all the nerves were passed down to you. A perfect fit for a modern day prince, and you weren’t sure if you’re up to the task to be his modern day princess.

You should’ve expected the dinner to be far from normal, as he was far from an average person either. But not even in your hindsight did you expect for a rented vintage restaurant that mimicked Greek ruins, rose petals set the mood and candlelights illuminated the place. The grandiose of everything made you feel very little.

“I reckon that I’m way too overdressed for the occasion.” You noted with a light chuckle, trying to mask the pent up nervousness deep within you. The black vintage dress that you kept in your closet for very special events suddenly felt lacking.

“No, you look perfect. Everything else is just over the top, fault on my part.” And there was his endearing smile. “I just thought this was fitting for the daughter of a former politician.”

Your jaw dropped in shock, “How did you know?” It wasn’t very much of a secret but you tried and keep this fact on the down low.

“It wasn’t that hard to find out.”

Time seems to speed up whenever you’re with Junmyeon. You tried to cherish and savor each passing moment, you wish it were trinkets that you could pocket and save in a jar. The dinner was followed by subsequent ones, each more relaxed than before. The luxurious restaurant was traded for a movie night in his penthouse, still far from the ordinary but let’s be honest - is there even anything ordinary when it comes to someone as impeccable as Junmyeon?

The relationship itself, being committed to each other and official only came as a realization. It wasn’t marked by a wonderful proposal nor a question but rather an agreement. As if you just both come into terms that you’re comfortable with each other’s feelings enough to present the other as their partner.

It felt like Junmyeon has been a vital part of your life, his constant presence was almost a necessity. It wasn’t a toxic relationship but a rather very serene one, his friends almost consider you married. It wasn’t even far from thought, he asked for you to work in their company to be around you more often. An offer you couldn’t refuse for sure - you have your boyfriend beside you and a high paying job was a combination to die for.

Yet taking the job meant a compromise in your side. It was never part of your plans to work and settle down right after college, it was never in your sight. Harvard was the plan, you and your parents have known this ever since you were twelve. Take up Legal Management in one of the most prestigious universities in the campus, and then fly to the States to study in the most premier Law School one would consider. But that was far off from Junmyeon’s mind.

He wanted you to stay, here with him, be with him. He always would reason out that he’ll be able to provide what you need and more, to which you had no doubt. The Kim family probably had enough money to support up to five more generations, even with a lavish life. But to be a lawyer, a good and reputable one, has always been your dream.

But Junmyeon was your serendipity - a wonderful sudden discovery that made all else a blur. A sudden diamond on the way that made the hike for the pot of gold futile. So with him you stayed. As you couldn’t bear to break his heart and his own dreams, one that consisted of settling down with you he said. The thing about Junmyeon is he’s too idealistic and a hopeless romantic on the inside. He was very vocal on what he wanted on your wedding, about your children and how many. All of these fragile little gems that he cherished so much were on your hands, and you loved him so much at that time to crush it.

It was all smooth and tranquil until he started getting busier at work. It wasn’t even work that you understood as he kept on saying it was his father’s favor, who in turn started to grow weaker in health. He’s been flying from one country to another and back, sometimes even for weeks. What he was very busy about was kept unrecorded in the company. And you’ve started to question.

All it needed was an unassuming folder that lied on his work table for you to find out. Junmyeon was knocked out on the bed, too tired and wasted from proving how much he missed you due to his recent long trip. Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to put silence in all the questions that kept you awake at night.

But you would have rathered not look on the contents now that you read it.

Far from your anticipation of recent transactions of a new ship, probably an acquisition of new plane models to fasten shipping - it was the worst case scenario that you didn’t even knew was possible for a man like Junmyeon. To be fair, it was still shipping transcripts. But the contents were of the horrendous kinds, far from what you handled in his company that included family packages, beauty products or overall goods. These “products” were made for the worst members of human society, illegal weapons - those who could erase an entire locality with a press of a button. Guns of all sorts, those handheld and ones you thought was only issued for military use. Cocaine, LSD, methamphetamine, compounds that wouldn't have made much of a big deal in college but it sure does when it’s shipped in hundreds and thousands of kilograms.

And it was all undersigned by a certain SUHO.

Your mind quickly connected the dots. Whoever Junmyeon was doing this work for wasn’t necessarily the makers nor producers of the said equipment, they were simply shipping them. Making the impossible dirty work more than possible. And the shipping behemoth that the Kim’s family had was a sure fit for the job.

It all made sense. These certain container vans that were over the initial count that Junmyeon blatantly told you to disregard, saying that you were the one that made the wrong tally and count. The sudden emergency shippings that had to be made at midnight.

And you don’t know how to react.

This life was far from what you dreamt of, the righteous and abiding. Actually, this was the exact opposite of such. The defectors, rebellious, and one treacherous to mankind and life itself. You loved Junmyeon, but you definitely cannot accept this aspect of his life.

But you chose to not say a thing.

You were smarter than that, far more logical that just blurting out that you spied on his belongings while he was fast asleep after making you orgasm one after another. You knew that this would only lead to complications, probably even lose your life or your sanity if he knows that you’re aware.

So you planned your escape.

A handful of acceptable reasons was already jotted on your list. That he was too busy for you, that you wanted to go and pursue your dreams in Harvard, that you’ve been wanting to try something new in your life that doesn’t revolve around him because your life was with him and for him for the past two years. Even you tried so hard to make yourself believe that this was the reason that you’re leaving him. That it wasn’t because he’s living a dangerous and a life so wronged that you didn’t have it in your guts to be part of it.

That you wouldn’t ever want the growing life in your belly to take part of. No, the life that you’d give birth to wouldn’t only be another spawn to continue such a vicious act.

It took all your might and tears to leave. To watch him break down, and cry, and beg, and kneel in front of you only for you to turn your back on him on the very end. All his pleads and promises to spend more time and stay with you was all but a shout into the void as you still hopped on a plane fast to California to leave everything behind.

To break your own heart to stick to your morals, and to care for your coming bundle of joy.

And you wouldn’t let that all go to waste now, not now that you’ve worked so hard to be the best mother to Jaejin for the past 6 years. Not now that you beared everything alone, to depend on yourself starting at the age of 22 while raising another in your arms.

You arrive at the luxurious condominium, almost limping on the pain at the balls of your feet. You quickly dashed to the information desks and painlessly smiled at the attendants that looked so pleasant and formal towards you.

“Can I have a dial to room 52A, please.” You said as you plastered a forced smile on your face. Yet a sense of hurry was in your heart.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’m not sure if you had the right room information, perhaps you’re trying to reach another unit please?” The attendant with caramel blonde hair and blue scarf responded to you with her pearly whites all displayed as a part of her job.

“No, It’s really for room 52A for Mr. Kim Junmyeon.” You reiterated yourself.

“Hold on for a second as I contact Mr. Kim if he’s expecting any visitors right now.” She politely responded once more as she grabbed the phone and talked in a shushed manner. “We’ve been informed that Mr. Kim is not in his room as of the moment, Ma’am.”

“Are you sure? I just.. I just really need to talk to him right now.” You tried to keep your composure.

“I’m pretty sure that Mr. Kim hasn’t been around the vicinity for the past few weeks. He’s probably residing in some of his other properties. Good day Ma’am.” She greeted you again with a smile before she entertained other guests.

Of course, Junmyeon would never be dumb. He’s too calculating of a person to sit with Jaejin here if he’ll hide your son from you. You lived here with him for a year, of course you’ll go here first. You scanned your memories for where else could he be, he probably had a thousand more houses or condominiums now but you’re left with no choice to stick with what you know.

So with hope in your hands, you headed off his old family home on the outskirts of the city.

The drive almost lasted half an hour, the village was meant only for the wealthiest of the wealthy. Just below the wondrous sight of the mountains yet still bearably close enough to the city center where their businesses would be. You remember it here, the lavish and aristocratic house that his parents owned. The one with marbled walls and doric columns and topped off with an exquisite fountain on the dead center. If they weren’t here, you might as well count the number of stars in the sky and sands on the beach as that’s how hard it would take to find them.

Guards clad in black scanned you, they phoned inside to ask if a visitor was expected. If they were this intricate on searching you, Junmyeon was probably inside. And Jaejin would hopefully be, too.

Surprisingly to you, the condescending gates were opened and you were let inside the Kim Estate. Guards ushered you inside, not bothering to speak as small talk wasn’t the reason you rushed here for. You just wanted to see your son, happy, and alive, to alleviate all the worries in your mind.

The living area was nothing short of exquisite, large antiquette sofa sets lined with white leather ornate the room. The grand staircase almost looked like something off fantasy movies. The whole mansion just reeked of immense power and wealth just like what Junmyeon exudes. All this glitter and glamour and all you’re searching for was the jolly laughter and toothless smile of your son.

“Mama!” You hurriedly looked on your left, where Jaejin emerged from the kitchen wearing a smile. With open arms, you almost ran into his embrace. The thud of your heart was almost as loud and booming of that of a thunderstorm. Almost squishing your son at the tightness of your embrace. “Uncle Jun brought me here, he said that we’ll make cupcakes and have more pistachio ice cream!”

“Oh he did?” You tried to laugh along his happiness, how innocent he was on just how you almost died of worry and anxiety over the past two hours. The tears that fell down your eyes cannot be held back, the wave of emotions that you felt just won’t subside.

“Why are you crying mama? Do you want a cupcake too?” He willingly offered to you the chocolate pastry on his hand, you just shook your head no.

“Nothing, Mama was just very tired at work today, Jaejin. I’m just very happy to see you.”

“Aw, I don’t like seeing my Mama sad. Is your new boss bad? Should I make him face the wall, mama? I don’t like seeing you cry.” Jaejin tried to wipe the tears that fell down your eyes, even blowing it a little in attempt to make it dry.

You just wanted to hold your son for a little longer, just memorize how warm he feels to your touch. How his giggles sound and how he cares for you like no one else would ever do. Because the past two hours just made you realize that Jaejin has been and is now your life, and it would kill you to lose him on your sight.

You saw a silhouette walk towards the both of you from the kitchen, donning a white work shirt and slacks. And you stood up from your seat and cleared your throat as you shot him your most threatening look. Lowering your head once more, you talked to Jaejin “Go ahead and have more cupcakes, bunny. Me and Uncle Jun have something to talk about.” Jaejin gave you a sweet peck on the cheek before joyfully prancing to the kitchen again.

You shared a look with Junmyeon and you knew just what will transpire between the both of you.

He started walking towards the study to which you followed suit. The environment was closed enough and you could lash out all your frustrations toward this man without worrying that Jaejin will hear you. You entered first and you quickly turned back to him once he closed the door.

“What the fuck, Junmyeon!?” Your hand smashed against the hard oak wood of the table, creating a loud thud that resonated within the space. “You’d really kidnap Jaejin from me? I thought we agreed on how we’ll do this?”

“I never officially agreed on anything, Y/N. And kidnapping? How will I kidnap my own child? If there’s someone who hid Jaejin away it was you!” He was still relatively calm besides the fact that his voice raised a few volumes up.

“That’s out of the damn topic, Junmyeon! You just took him without me knowing and you even emptied all his things in our apartment. Who the fuck in the right mind pulls stunts like those?”

“I was just trying to protect him! You’re the one here risking him, always leaving him alone anywhere. First he was lost in a large mall, now he’s left alone in a daycare for hours. Tell me, are you even competent enough to be a mother if you put your son in all these kinds of danger?” You gasped at his accusation.

“I, alone, raised Jaejin for six fucking years, Junmyeon. Just because you have all this money and wealth doesn’t mean you’re so much of a better person than me.” You pointed at him, “Besides he’s only ever in danger because of you, Junmyeon. So don’t go and put the blame on me.”

“What? Now suddenly I’m the bad guy. I barely knew Jaejin for a week and I’m the one putting him in danger?” His tone finally changed.

“Jaejin is always in danger because he’s your son, Junmyeon.”

“If you’re talking about being in danger because I’m rich, that fails to make any sense as I can afford all the protection he deserves.” Junmyeon reasoned out, walking to the other side of the table.

“No, he’s in danger because of what you do. He’s in danger because of all these people that surrounds you and your job, Junmyeon. Stop playing innocent because I know that you aren’t, Suho.” You dropped the bomb you’ve been carrying for years, Junmyeon’s mouth was now wide and agape on the sudden revelation.

“What? What are you talking about?” He stuttered

“Come on, Junmyeon. Stop playing fucking games. You say Jaejin is in danger? That's because your whole life revolves on playing with fire and walking on thin ice. Dealing and transferring all this bad shit known to mankind all over the globe.Having an army protect all the kinds of the worst people, protecting these killers. What parent in the world would not be frantic over their child’s safety if they’re running an illegal business guised as a shipping company.” Trembling was present in your hands, you don’t know how long the strength you feigned would put up with all the fear that’s deep inside your heart.

“What… How? When?” Was all the barely audible musings that fell out of Junmyeon’s lips. You turned away, in attempt to leave. But you’ve barely even reached the study’s doors when he spoke again.

“You can’t leave. Not anymore.”

“Why? Because I know how pungent your life is, Junmyeon? Would you kill me because I know what breed of asshole you are?” You felt your eyes as they started to water, tears slowly trickling down your face for the umpteenth time for today.

“No. Because Jaejin’s not leaving here. If you want to see your son, you stay here with him. If you want to leave, I’ll make sure this is the last time you’ll ever land your eyes on him.”

#exo #junmyeon #junmyeon imagine #junmyeon fanfic #suho imagine #suho fanfic #exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo!mafia #mafia exo #mafia junmyeon

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anotherkpopvictim · 5 years ago

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Thank You (For Everything You Do) - NamjoonXBTS Littlespace Drabble

(Source: nikadonna) I was searching for gifs for this fic and came across this perfect fanart that just so happened to say Thank You! I’d titled this fic before I found it so I just had to use it :)

Unfortunately, it will not allow me to actually link the source :(

A/N: I wrote this for our leader’s birthday ;) I wanted to write a story showcasing BTS giving back and appreciating all Namjoon does for them as a leader.

Hope you enjoy!

Also, just for reference, this is what Namjoon refers to the others as in littlespace:

Jin - Eomma (I know this is kind of overdone, but I liked it for this fic)

Yoongi - Appa

Hoseok - Daddy

Jimin - Oppa (Again, kind of done a lot, but I chose it anyways)

Taehyung - DaDa

Jungkook - Hyungie

Relationship: Little!Namjoon X Caregiver!BTS (My first OT7)

Rating: G

Words: 3130

Fluff, just fluff. Too much probably. Y’all gonna need a dentist after this, it’s just too sweet.

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Namjoon felt only half asleep as he stumbled up the three flights of stairs to their dorm, because, of course, the elevator was out of order.

Their promotion period just came to an end after months and months of concerts and interviews and music shows and filming Run episodes. The rest of the BTS members had been sent back to the dorm five hours earlier, but Namjoon was asked to stay back at the company for a meeting with Bang-PD.

Now, he was finally finished. It was barely four o’clock in the afternoon but he was tired and he ached all over. The front door of the dorm never looked so inviting, and the fact that all of his boyfriends were inside and one of them would surely be willing to cuddle tonight, made it all the better.

Namjoon thought about the comfort of his bed and sighed out contentedly. He lifted one of his hands to grab the doorknob of their dorm door when the door opened on its own.

The leader looked up with a heavy blink, taking in the smiling forms of Jin and Yoongi. They appeared to be well-rested - no doubt they spent the last five hours catching up on some much-needed sleep while Namjoon was busy.

“Oh - hi, hyungs,” he said, so tired that it made his voice more raspy than usual.

“Hey, Joonie! Come on in!” Seokjin exclaimed, his voice a bit too happy.

Namjoon arched a curious brow at the odd behavior, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi was the one to reply, stretching his arm around the younger’s shoulders and guiding him into the dorm fully. As Jin closed the door behind them, Yoongi sat Namjoon down on the bench in the entryway and began removing his shoes for him.

“What are you doing?”

Yoongi looked up at him, confused, “Removing your shoes?”

“Okay,” Namjoon drawled, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “But why?”

“Because I feel like it.”

The younger whined and he didn’t care one bit that it sounded extremely childish. “Why are you guys being so difficult?”

Yoongi and Jin shared a look between them that the younger couldn’t decipher and then the oldest was grabbing Namjoon by the cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.

Namjoon was pleasantly surprised and kissed his hyung back gently. When Jin backed away again (much too soon if you asked Namjoon) the younger asked with sparkling eyes, “What was that for?”

Jin winked at him and pressed one last kiss to his lips, “We wanna spoil you today, baby. How does that sound?”

The leader heard the term of endearment and felt the tugging of littlespace in his mind. “Y-You really want to do that?” he asked hesitantly.

Namjoon was always a little insecure about his little self. He was the leader of BTS, he was the one that was supposed to be taking care of the others, not have them take care of him.

Yoongi spoke up, placing a kiss to the leader’s cheek. “We really, really do, bub.”

It wasn’t a hard decision to make after that. Namjoon felt all the built-up stress and tension release from his body as he let out a whine, “Appa!”

“Ah, there’s my good boy,” Yoongi said with a smile reserved only for little Joonie.

“Come on, baby,” Jin picked up Namjoon in his arms without much difficulty and began leading them further into the dorm. The little wrapped his arms around his oldest hyung’s neck and nuzzled in contently. “We have a lot planned for our baby today.”

First, they went to the bedroom, where Jin and Yoongi worked together to change the younger into an old t-shirt and sweats. The little was confused as to why they weren’t putting him in something more comfortable, like a onesie, but he accepted it without question.

They left the bedroom and entered the living room, Yoongi trailing behind them, to find Jimin and Hoseok sitting patiently on the floor in the middle of the room. A tarp was spread over most of the space, and about a dozen tubs containing different colors of paint as well as multiple sizes of canvases were set up beside them.

Namjoon eyes widened at the sight. If there was one thing little Joon loved to do, it was paint. “Pretty colors!” he exclaimed as he began squirming in the oldest’s arms, “Eomma, pretty colors!”

“I see that, baby,” Jin replied fondly, placing the younger on the ground so he could hurry over to the two sat on the floor. “Appa and I are going to go start on dinner while you hang out with your Daddy and Oppa, okay?”

Namjoon nodded his head excitedly as his eyes darted to each of the tubs of color. He was already planning his first painting.

Jimin scooted over to sit beside him and smiled so wide his eyes nearly disappeared, “Hey, baby, are you excited to paint?”

“Yeah! Joonie gonna be a artist!” he said.

Jimin ruffled the light brown hair falling over his forehead, “We have some paintbrushes if want, honey, or you can just use your hands.”

Namjoon responded by dipping his entire left hand in a tub of bright pink and slapping it on the canvas closest to him.

“Okay, hands it is,” Jimin mused.

“Joonie, can we paint too?” Hoseok asked, sitting across from the little.

“Mhm!” Namjoon hummed his reply, more focused on his masterpiece.

Jimin and Hoseok both chuckled at the adorable little and set about working on their own paintings, opting for using the paintbrushes Namjoon hadn’t wanted.

Little Joon spent the next half hour slapping and smearing color over his canvas until it was absolutely drenched in paint. Thank god the others had put down a tarp, otherwise the floor would have been a mess.

“Daddy, look!” Joonie picked up his first finished painting and held it out so the other could see.

Hoseok looked up from his own painting to observe the younger’s artwork. It was an abstract mess of pink, blue and yellow, with accents of red and purple. “Wah! You made that, Joonie? That’s amazing!”

Namjoon giggled and blushed a bit at the compliment, “Thank you, Daddy!”

“Let me see, let me see!” Jimin demanded. Once Namjoon showed it off to him as well, he grinned, “We’ll definitely have to hang that in the living room somewhere!”

“Right there!” Namjoon pointed to an empty space next to the television.

“Perfect,” Hoseok replied, clapping his hands together. “We’ll put it up once it’s fully dried in a few days.”

“What you make, Daddy? Oppa?”

Jimin puffed his chest out proudly and lifted his painting up for all of them to see, “I worked very hard on it, so be nice!”

The white canvas had been covered in various blues, creating a nice ocean base. On top of that, Jimin had painted multi-colored fish and other sea creatures in a rather, ah, basic technique. It looked more like a child had painted it than Namjoon’s did.

Hoseok was holding a hand over his mouth in a weak attempt to hide his snickers at the sight, but Namjoon - well, Namjoon looked in awe.

“Oppa painted pretty fishies!” he exclaimed before pointing to a particular blob of orange, “Lookit! Baby crabs! Joonie loves crabs, Oppa!”

“Well, thank you, baby, at least someone likes it,” Jimin sent a glare in Hoseok’s direction, who simply held his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“What about Daddy? Can Joonie see his picture?”

Hoseok’s attention was directed to the hopeful looking little holding his hands clasped together adorably. “Well, I can’t say no to someone so cute, now can I?”

“Nuh-uh!” Namjoon agreed, grinning widely.

Hoseok chuckled and lifted up his own painting for the others to observe. He had created a forest scene and splattered some white paint over everything so it looked like it was snowing. It certainly wasn’t the best painting in the world, but it was definitely better than Jimin’s, and it seemed the younger knew it too by his defeated pout.

“It looks like real trees!” Namjoon said, “How did Daddy make them look so pretty?”

“Why don’t I show you, baby?”

They spent another hour painting before Yoongi walked back into the room from the kitchen.

“Woah!” he exclaimed as he took in the mess of paint all over the tarp and the little. It looked like more of the colors had ended up on Namjoon’s body than on the actual canvases. “Someone had fun, didn’t they?”

Namjoon looked up at him with a giant grin, his adorable dimples showing as tried to simultaneously hold up the three canvases he had worked on at the same time. “Appa! Lookie! Joonie made the most prettiest pictures ever!”

Yoongi wandered over to take a closer look at the pieces of artwork as Jimin and Hoseok looked on fondly. “That one definitely needs to go there...” The second oldest pointed to the little’s first masterpiece and then to the same spot Namjoon had pointed to earlier, right next to the television.

The little lit up, his eyes so wide they nearly bulged out of his head. “That’s what Joonie said!”

Yoongi chuckled and gestured to the other two, “I think those should go in the entryway. That way whenever someone comes home, they can be greeted with your beautiful pictures.”

Namjoon giggled and clapped his hands together happily at the thought.

The others could only look on with heart eyes. They were all so damn whipped for the little and he probably didn’t even realize the extent of it.

Yoongi did a double-take as he caught sight of the ocean painting, “Uh...who painted this one?”

Hoseok snickered again, “Jiminie did.”

Jimin reached over and smacked him on the shoulder, “Shut up!”

“Well,” Yoongi began in a teasing voice, “It looks like...something else, that’s for sure.”

Jimin pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. Hoseok cooed at him and leaned over to pinch his cheeks, only to have his hand smacked away.

“Anyway,” Yoongi straightened up, “I came to get you because dinner is almost ready.”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up before they dimmed a bit once more, “Joonie has to help clean up, though.”

Jimin and Hoseok moved to either side of him and pressed kissed to each of his cheeks. “We want this to be a special day for you, baby,” Hoseok said, admiring the blush on the little’s face at their blunt displays of affection.

Jimin hummed and finished, “So just this once, you don’t have to help us clean up.”

“Really?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Yeah, bub, why don’t you go with Appa and get yourself a bit more cleaned up for dinner, huh?”

Namjoon eagerly accepted the oldest rapper’s hand and let him lead the two of them from the room.

Jimin sighed as soon as they were gone, his head in his hand and a smile on his face, “God, he’s so adorable. He’s gonna be the death of me.”

Hoseok scoffed fondly, “That boy only has to smile and I’d willingly give him the world.”

Yoongi used a cloth to clean up the worst of the splattered paint (he wasn’t sure how he managed it, but Namjoon had gotten some vibrant purple behind one ear and neon orange behind the other). He didn’t worry about getting everything since he knew the little was going to be having a proper bath after dinner.

“Did you have fun painting, bub?” he asked as he wiped some blue from between the younger’s fingers.

Namjoon nodded and swung his legs where he was seated on the bathroom counter, “It was the bestest, Appa! Joonie likes all the pretty colors!”

“I can tell,” Yoongi teased, “How did you get so much green on your feet? Weren’t you wearing socks when your Eomma and I dropped you off in the living room earlier?”

The little gave him an innocent smile, “Yeah, but Joonie wanted to paint with his feet!”

Yoongi blinked, “And your Daddy and Oppa let you do that?”

“Mhm, they thought it was funny!”

Of course they did, Yoongi thought to himself with an inner eye roll.

“Well then,” Yoongi grinned at the other, “I think it’s dinner time.”

Yoongi hitched the little up on his hip (the others were always amazed that the rapper, who had little to no muscle, was able to carry him, but he wasn’t that weak, okay?) and walked them to the kitchen.

When they arrived, everyone else was already seated at the table and they all turned to them at their entrance. Jungkook and Taehyung, who Namjoon hadn’t seen since he’d gotten home, gave him bright greeting smiles.

Namjoon saw the food on the table and promptly gasped, “Chicken nuggets! And mac’n’cheese!”

“Your favorite,” Jin said with a smile as Yoongi moved to place the little on the oldest’s lap. Jin scooped up a spoonful of the macaroni and cheese and lifted it up to the younger’s mouth.

Namjoon eagerly accepted the food, “Yummy!”

Jin kept feeding the younger, alternating between the macaroni and cheese and the chicken nuggets. Namjoon ate all the food with gusto, swinging his legs back and forth from his spot on the oldest’s lap.

The others were only eating half-heartedly, much too interested in their leader’s little side - well, all except Jungkook. The maknae was stuffing his face with food like it was the last meal he was ever going to eat.

“Jungkook, that’s gross,” Jimin commented as the youngest attempted to chew without fully being able to close his mouth. Jimin scrunched his nose up in disgust, “Please, stop.”

“This shit’s great!” Jungkook exclaimed, shrinking when five hands all reached out to smack him for swearing in front of the little. “Ah! Sh - sorry, sorry! But this is so tasty. Can we have this for dinner every night?”

Five mouths opened to shoot down the idea when one spoke up excitedly, “Yeah! Joonie want this every day!” Namjoon grinned, showing off his dimples. “Oh, please!” he added hastily, never one to forget his manners.

Taehyung cooed loudly and reached over from across the table to bop the little on the nose, “Oh my god, I really can’t say no to you.”

“But we will have to this time,” Jin said, giving the others a pointed look before focusing back on the little in his lap. “It’s not healthy to have this food every day, but if you’re a good boy I think we can have it more often.”

“M’kay!”

Hoseok and Jimin made simultaneous noises that sounded similar to that of a dying whale at the cuteness.

Namjoon promptly looked up at them with worry, “Oppa! Daddy! Are you okays? Do you have booboos?” his wide, innocent eyes and adorable pout were too much for the others to handle.

Yoongi was the one who answered, “They’re fine, baby. They’re just being silly.”

“Oh, okay!” Namjoon’s mood did a one-eighty and he was back to his grinning self.

The rest of dinner was pretty uneventful - aside from Jungkook nearly choking from how fast he was eating, but Hoseok gave him the Heimlich and Namjoon only had a mild heart attack at one of his caregivers nearly dying, so it was fine.

After dinner, the others were put on dish duty while Jin and Yoongi gave Namjoon a proper bath.

The little had a blast playing with the toy boats in the nice warm water of the bathtub, so much so that he almost didn’t want to get out when it was all over. The promise of cuddles made the decision easier, though.

After toweling Namjoon off, Jin put the younger into a diaper (he nearly slapped himself when he realized they had all forgotten to do that earlier) and slipped him into the cutest frog onesie. Yoongi distracted the little by making funny faces for him and making him giggle behind his green pacifier.

It was common for Namjoon to slip further into his headspace the more tired he got, and the bit of energy he had regained by slipping earlier was slowly fading.

As the three of them began making their way down the hall, Namjoon dropped down to the floor and began hopping in clumsy movements, “Ribbit! Ribbit! Joonie is froggy!”

God, they were so whipped for him, it was ridiculous.

They entered the living room (now cleaned up from the art session earlier) to find everyone scattered on the couches and few bean bags, television paused on one of the little’s favorite movies.

“Tangled!”

Namjoon scrambled to lay on top of Jimin, Hoseok, and Jungkook, who were already a mess of tangled (haha) limbs. They preened like they were the chosen ones while the other three rolled their eyes and tried to hide their pouts.

Yoongi climbed into Taehyung’s lap where he was lounging on a bean bag while the oldest took a seat in an empty one next to them.

The movie played and they all genuinely enjoyed it, even if they were constantly distracted by Namjoon’s cute little giggles and wide, intrigued eyes.

Soon enough, the credits were rolling and Namjoon’s eyelids were drooping.

“I think it’s somebody’s bedtime,” Taehyung mused, getting up from the bean bag chair and going over to pick up the sleepy little.

Namjoon nuzzled into his neck and sighed contently.

Jin and Yoongi first came over to press mandatory kisses to the little’s cheeks, whispering their goodnights to him.

Then came Hoseok and Jimin, who followed the oldest members’ actions with matching kisses on the little’s reddening cheeks.

Taehyung carried Namjoon back to his bedroom, Jungkook not far behind him. By the time they’d changed into their own pajamas, the little was pretty much asleep.

Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged fond smiles before crawling under the covers and settling on either side of the little. Namjoon gripped onto Jungkook’s t-shirt and cuddled into his chest, his other hand reaching back weakly to grab onto something of Taehyung’s, which ended being his wrist. Taehyung complied by wrapping his arm around the little’s stomach.

“Thank you. For taking care of Joonie.”

The two of them opened their eyes at the little’s words.

“Oh, you’re welcome, baby,” Taehyung replied with a kiss to the back of his head. “We all love taking care of you.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed, kissing the little’s forehead. “You always take care of us as our leader when you’re big, and we take care of you when you’re little. It’s a win-win.”

Namjoon let out a tired giggle behind his pacifier, “Love you, hyungie. Love you, DaDa.”

“Love you too.”

Arms tightened around him from both sides and Namjoon couldn’t help but smile as he settled back into Jungkook’s warm chest.

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A/N: There will never be enough Namjoon appreciation fics. Hope you enjoyed adorable Joonie!

Let me know what you thought! Comments and likes are greatly appreciated.

If you would like to request a BTS littlespace drabble, you can go to my Request Guidelines page :)

Happy Birthday, Namjoonie!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

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pasteljeon · 6 years ago

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Nymphet Garden 02: Apple Blossoms (m)

Apple Blossom - Malus pumila is an ancient plant with ancestral origins in Central Asia. Long associated with the story of Adam and Eve in the garden of eden, the apple is forever deigned as the symbol of temptation, glowing a fiery red among the garden, yet it may also be depicted as the the sign of rebirth when Christ is portrayed with the fruit. With both interpretations battling for dominance, the boys themselves will have to decide if you are the bringer of sin or virtue.

➟ Based off this request: I’d like to request a multi-part fic with the reader being a solo!idol and the bts boys perhaps being big fanboy of hers? I’d love to see your take on this. I’d love some down and dirty smut too please! from @/stxrlxghtsora

➟ Summary: He was just a fanboy, they got dragged into it, and so blooms your love story.

➟ Pairing: OT7/Reader, non-idol!BTS, idol!Reader

➟ Warnings: *pours holy water over self* switch!reader, dom!namjoon, sub!yoongi, multiple orgasms, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, daddy kink, creampie, sloppy seconds, lowkey pwp lmao

➟ Length: 5.3k

➟ In collab with @/sugarcookiesandsins - please give her some love! ♡♡

➟ Notes: hellooo lovelies, hope you enjoy this next part! Both Jae and I are both very busy now that second term has started but we’re trying our best to deliver what we’d promised. Please bear with us!

Prologue. Prev. Next (links are still broken, please refer to my masterlist)

Since that day at the studio, almost everyone had noticed the shift in relationship between the three of you. Skinship was as common as air, neither boy hesitating to pull you into a hug or to lean up against you when you sat down for dinner on late nights. The other boys could do nothing but share questioning side-glances at each other in the hopes that someone, anyone, knew what the hell happened to cause this transformation. But the two males had made a silent agreement on their way back home that night; in order to protect your reputation, and theirs, they would not tell anyone about this, not even the boys they considered their brothers.

You were not oblivious to the change and the slight jealousy rising in the other boys, but you promised yourself that you would come clean soon. For now, you simply wanted to relish in the feeling of being loved in the purest way possible as the three of you curled up together, watching a movie that had long faded into background noise.

It had been a week, and you had started to become curious about the rumors regarding Yoongi and Namjoon. They had been working with your producers for a while now and it seemed like they got along really well; not a single complaint fell from their lips. In fact, it seemed like they couldn’t stop praising the two for their work, going on for hours about their lyrics and seemingly supernatural ability to create the perfect beats.

Your curiosity reaching its peak, you snagged a drive from your desk and made your way over to the studio that company had decided to grant them for the time being. It was not as personalized, but it had the basic equipment they needed. You were in comfy clothes, trying to fight the heatwave that seemed to mug up the entire building, something about the air conditioning being faulty. A pair of your training shorts and a tank top that let the air caress your skin keeping you cooler than most, yet still exposed.

Stopping outside the studio, you listened in the crack of the doorway, a familiar melody reaching your ears. You knew they were involved in the album, but to the point where they would be editing one of the main pieces. Still you smiled; you trusted them enough to know that they would do nothing less than perfect on it. Leaning back, you rapped on the door, not loud enough to disturb their focus but loud enough that someone could hear. Only moments later did the door swing open to the wide eyes of Namjoon, who glanced back at Yoongi leaning sideways to catch your eyes from behind him.

Both boys seemed just as affected by the heatwave as you were, opting for muscle tanks and basketball shorts.

“Hey guys! I was working on something, but no matter what I do, something still feels off. So, as the resident production geniuses, could you help?” Your tone was subdued, embarrassed to be asking for help and interrupting what seemed like super important work.

Seeing them still blankly staring at you, you rushed to apologize, thinking that they were annoyed at you for appearing unannounced. “Oh! I’m sorry. You must be busy. I can go ask someone else.” you quickly backtracked and turned to leave, until you felt a warm hand encase your arm and pull you back. It was Yoongi who had gotten up during your ramblings and tugged you into their studio space.

It was pretty bare, save for the two cushioned office chairs standing to attention in front of the computer screens. The pale company logo was illuminated by the soft lit keyboard, the sound equipment glowing sporadically in different colors. It was pretty similar to yours, save for the lack of posters and missing bookshelf with your overnight supplies for those nights when the trip home was just too far.

Lithe fingers let go of your wrist to snatch the harddrive in your hand. “Let’s see what you got, Princess.” Namjoon’s deep voice echoed in the small room and felt closer than the three feet distance he was standing at. Still, you were a professional, and you weren’t about to let some baritone, good-looking man throw you off your cool.

You smiled a little at the nickname. “Feel free to listen, just don’t be too harsh. There’s a reason I don’t produce everything for my own album,” you giggled remembering the reactions the first time you tried. You had grown since then, courtesy of the producers of your company who you hung out with from time to time, but there was no way you were ready to actually show the world anything.

Seeing that both boys had occupied their chairs, you opted to plop down on the black sofa against one of the walls. Leaning your head back, you closed your head and relished in the song playing in the speakers. It was along the lines of your album, a grind-out song that set the mood with a saxophone punctuated with synth melodies and heavy background beats. You had been feeling in the mood considering your newfound relationship with Jimin and Jungkook and the album in general. Losing yourself, your petal lips parted and sang along, throathy and breathy, just as the song required.

Once the last resounding note faded with the fleeting image of you singing, you opened your eyes to two men, who seemed very into the music. Their mouths were parted slightly with lips red and swollen from biting as they watched your throat move with each sound.

Deciding that you would ignore their flushed states, you raised a single eyebrow as you broke them from their reviere. “So. What do you think? I like it, but there’s something missing I feel.”

Yoongi was the first to catch himself, and cleared his throat before slipping back into work mode as he began dissecting your work, commenting on the melody. Namjoon refused to break eye contact with you when you turned to ask him what he thought. Then like waves breaking on white-sand beaches, the expression receded, only to be replaced with a challenging eyebrow-raise.

Something in you told you that Namjoon knew exactly what you were trying to do; though you were hardly being subtle. Yet that same voice also whispered the quintessential truth - that he was willing to participate in whatever little play you were putting on for their benefit.

You tilted your head towards an unassuming Yoongi, who was keenly avoiding you by focusing on your music. Namjoon only nodded, once.

“Mm. I like that new sound, Yoongi. It's an echoer right? How about we add it behind the main chorus?” You glanced back at Namjoon, a conspiratorial smile lighting up your face as you motioned. His turn now.

“That would sound dope! Wanna try it hyung?” Namjoon couldn’t hide his smile either. You were definitely more interesting than he expected.

You got up from your seat, and approached Yoongi from behind, delighting in the tiny squeak of surprise that you elicited with you leaned against his chair, making a seat from one of the unoccupied arm rests. He leaned away, much too away of the presence of your bare thigh pressing against his arm, but his retreat was blocked from the other side by Namjoon, who leaned in under the pretense of viewing the screen.

“Have you … been working out?” You ran a hand down his arm, squeezing his bicep lightly. You thumbed the dimples of his shoulder blades, marvelling at the expanse of his chest. Yoongi licked his lips, eyes lidded as he leaned into your touch.

“Just a bit,” he rasped, voice a rumbling pressure beneath your fingertips as you flattened a palm over his stomach, trailing it up slowly.

“Breathe,” you whispered, lips brushing over his neck. Yoongi exhaled shakily, plaint as his head rolled back, dark gaze never leaving yours as he rumbled your name. You giggled as his pale skin flushed against your fingertips that had traveled up to his cheeks, cupping them gently before you leaned down for a kiss.

Namjoon took that moment to shift, his basketball shorts suddenly very uncomfortable for him as he watched you weave your magic around Yoongi. It was fantastical, like your singing, like your dancing, hell even the way you moved was unreal. Yoongi suddenly realized that he was not the only male in the room and jumped when he felt Namjoon wriggle, pulled quickly out of his fantasies.

Jerking his head back, he tried to pretend that the last couple minutes had not happened, but those attempts were stopped as Namjoon took the initiative to hold Yoongi down by the waist. It was overwhelming, the large warm hands on his waist contrasting the soft digits stroking his skin at the sensitive juncture when collarbone met neck. His head was too busy trying to make sense of the situation that he didn’t notice when you pulled the chair away from the desk and spun him to face you. Setting yourself firmly on his lap, you raked you nails lower until they just caught on the elastic of pants, so close to his hardening member. Your eyes met Namjoon’s over Yoongi’s shoulder and you let loose a small smirk. “He seems to like it, doesn’t he Daddy?”

In all honesty, the ‘Daddy’ bit was guesswork based on what you had seen of the man, but with the way his jaw clenched, you could tell that Namjoon didn’t mind it one bit. Still keeping your eyes locked with Namjoon, you leaned forward and latched your lips to the smooth expanse of pale skin within reach. You eyes fluttered closed as you sucked a large hickey just below Yoongi’s collarbone. Feeling quite satisfied with your work, you moved to another spot, opening your eyes again as you forced Namjoon to watch you suck more blossoms on the producer.

Yoongi, threw his head back in ecstasy, colors spinning around in his head as he tried to swallow reality. Your teeth nipping at his skin introduced just the tiniest bit of pain before it bloomed into pleasure when your tongue laved the abused spot. He let a loose curse slip as he felt you move with calculated precision, your hands never stopping their piano playing on his ribs.

Namjoon felt his cock pressing against the confines of his boxers as he watched you, wide eyes contrasting with the sinful actions of your mouth. There was mirth in those crystal depths, like a child playing with their favorite, but there was something darker, more mature hiding behind it all.

“It seems he does, Princess.” Namjoon’s voice seemed to have gotten deeper than you had ever thought possible, but you didn’t mind as the sound waves went directly to your core, causing them to leak just a little. Imagining that voice and mouth between your legs sent more shocks to your system as you moaned against skin. Pulling back from your artwork, you admired the contrast of purple against alabaster, lovingly tracing each mark with a nail, only pausing when Namjoon groaned out, “Why don’t you ask him baby? He can use his words.”

Focusing back on the limp man, you looked deep into his eyes as you questioned him. “Did you like that sweetie? Did you like my lips on your skin, marking you with my teeth?” Crude as they were, they were a wake-up call for the elder man. Half-delirious with your scent surrounding him, he gasped out a quick answer. Anything to feel you closer to him like before.

“Y-yes. I l-liked it.” Yoongi paused for a moment, clueless on what to call you, your name sounding wrong in that moment. And any other name that came mind still made him feel uncomfortable. Still, there was one he could try, the name had lived in his head since the day he saw you perched on the throne with Jungkook kneeling before you. “Can you do it again, Mistress?”

“Are you going to be a good boy for us?” You purred, teeth scraping his earlobe. A shudder racked his body, nodding mindlessly. “Yes,” he murmured.

You rolled your hips, Yoongi letting out a choked gasp as his head fell against the rest, fingers ghosting over the curve of your waist. “M-may I touch you, Mistress?” He groaned.

“What do you think, Daddy?” You carded a hand through his dishevelled black locks, Namjoon hovering over you as he dipped down to seal his lips over your bare shoulder, suckling gently.

The man in question hummed, parting with a satisfied pop as he admired the bloom beneath your skin with satisfaction. “No,” Namjoon murmured, brushing back your tresses. “I don’t think he’s earned that privilege quite yet.”

Yoongi gritted his teeth but did not object, arms dropping to rest limply at his side where he curled his hands into fists.

“Come here, baby girl,” Namjoon lifted you up easily, your legs coming to wrap around him automatically. The feeling of your wet heat pressing against his throbbing length had him grunting as he settled onto the other chair, with you tucked snugly on top of him.

“But I wanted to play with him more,” you whined, pouting as Namjoon slipped a hand beneath your tee, pulling it up as his large hand palmed your bra-clad breast.

“Are you going to listen to Daddy’s orders, baby? Or are you asking to be punished?” He rasped, his mind lost in the thousand things he could do and the thousand fantasies he could make reality in the next moment. Still, his voice never lost that dominant tone that forced you from one producer into the lap of another.

Namjoon took a moment to soak in the image of you. Hair mussed, lips a swollen mess, and completely at his mercy. He cupped your face in his hands, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, a small groan erupting as you kitten licked his finger in response.

Only being used to constant action, this prolonged moment of silence made you feel awkward so you decided to bring his attention back to the part of you that yearned for him most. You squirmed in his lap purposely letting your core brush the bulge in his pants. “Help me. Help me feel good, please.”

His hands flew down to your hips and gripped them tightly to stop them from bringing him closer to his high. Seeing you dominate Yoongi had already put him on edge, and your begging wasn’t going to be resolving the issue anytime soon. “Patience, baby girl.” You relished in the pet name said over you. “Let me enjoy looking at what’s mine.”

Looking up, you locked eyes with Namjoon again, a small gasp escaping you at the emotion in Namjoon’s eyes. There was happiness, as if he had completely forgotten about the erection digging into your thigh, and there was peace, like if he died in this very moment, he would have no issues with it.

He ran his hands higher along your torso, catching your tank in his hands and tossing it to the side, your bra following quickly before he latched to nipple, giving it same treatment you had given to Yoongi only moments ago. His other hand grabbed your other breast and fondled the soft flesh, enjoying the weight of it against his hands

The feeling made you grind yourself against him once again, fervor lighting up your muscles to bring you that sweet, sweet release that you craved. His movements stopped immediately as your mind flashed in warning. “I said that you need to wait, Princess.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t do it again.” You mewled out, willing to do whatever to get his hand moving once again. He tapped you once on the ass, before pushing you in the direction of Yoongi.

“Of course you won’t baby. Because you’re gonna be helping out Yoongi hyung.” You pouted at Namjoon, dissatisfied with the ache between your legs that should have disappeared long ago. Still, a strangled moan cut you off. Yoongi was just watching you, the way your breasts moved as you made your way over to him, the way your lips parted to take in air, the red on your skin, proof of the strong emotions running through your veins.

Kneeling before him, Yoongi would only gasp at the view. He was a man, and not an inexperienced one. He had dreamed of you before, as despicable it was to admit, but no dream could ever compare to the real thing. Wordlessly, he looked on as you dragged your fingers down the front of his chest, not forgetting to catch his nipples through the fabric, making him arch his back. You hooked your digits on the edge of the shorts and the boxers, and dragged them down.

His cock sprang out and smacked against his chest, the sound pushing your blood pressure to higher echelons. Once the articles of clothing had been forgotten in a random corner of the studio, you wasted no time in wrapping your fingers around his base. Yoongi could only hiss in pain, holding back the urge to release all over your beautiful face. You would look so good painted in his cum.

Still, a single glare from Namjoon stopped any fantasies he had. He knew his place, but it became hard to remember the specifics when you started moving your hand up and down, squeezing intermittently and following in stroke with a slight scrape of your nails.

With his shoulder covered in your marks, and hooded eyes boring into your own, Yoongi looked good enough to eat. With one hand still on his cock, you turned slightly to Namjoon. “Can I taste him, Daddy?”

“I don’t know. You should be asking him.” Namjoon had already stripped down, lounging on the couch and lazily stroking his own member to the same rhythm of your hands

Yoongi wasted no time. If he was able to get your mouth as well as your hands, he would lack nothing in that moment. “Yes. For the love of god, yes. Please. I wanna feel your mouth too.” His words came out rushed as if had been waiting the entire time to say them, and it would be no surprise if it had.

A single nod from Namjoon was all it took for you to lower your head. One hand remained at the base, while the other reached under and fondled his balls. You bobbed your head once you have managed to take in a decent amount, sucking in to hollow out your cheeks. Yoongi jerked against your hold, letting go of the chair to tangle himself in your hair, pulling your head further down until you felt him hit the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex. Saliva escaping the corners of your mouth and running down the length of his shaft.

“Yoongi.” A name. That’s all it was, but that’s all it took from the boys’ self-appointed leader. Yoongi removed his hands from your hair and placed them back at his side. He clenched them into fists, nails digging into his palms as he continued to watch you make a meal of his cock. Letting go with a pop, you licked your lips.

“Was that good?” Your kneeling figure looked back at Namjoon expectantly. He was still in the same position as before, one hand thrown haphazardly on the back of the couch and the other still wrapped around his cock.

“You’re doing great, love.” He lifted his hand from the couch and crooked a single finger in your direction beckoning you over. “Let’s let Yoongi rest for a while, Princess. Can you come help me now?”

You squeezed Yoongi once more before approaching Namjoon, losing your shorts and panties somewhere along the way. Crawling on top, you allowed your dripping cunt to coat his cock arousal, your own juices provided lubricant. “Can I put it in, Daddy? I wanna feel you.” You rocked your hips, just barely catching the tip every time you moved.

“Make me feel good, baby girl.” You sank down at his approval, not caring about the slight burn that was quickly replaced with pleasure as you felt full. Not wanting to stop, you began moving up and down, this angle reaching depths that you had never thought possible.

A strangled sound of frustration tore itself from Yoongi’s throat as he watched you thrust yourself back onto Namjoon’s cock. You had teased him to the limit before abandoning his cock to satisfy your own ache with Namjoon. Now he was stuck in his chair, the fabric sticking to his damp skin, as he tried to achieve some relief from the pain of his throbbing cock, but the air provided no relief and after experiencing the wonders of your mouth, he doubted that anything less would do.

A loud moan drew his gaze to your figure on the couch, clothes littering the floor, as you rode Namjoon like your life depended on it. The male’s palm gripping your hips to help you find utopia on his body as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“You’re almost there, Princess. Can you make Daddy come for you?” Namjoon gritted his teeth through the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his cock.

“P-please, wanna feel you fill me up,” you whimpered, burying your face in his neck as you nibbled on his skin, laving at the sheen of sweat that coated it. “Want you to come inside.”

“Shit,” he hissed, a strangled moan ripping from him as he came hard, white painting his vision as he rode out his high. “Let go, baby. I’m right here.” With shaky fingers, he blindly reached between the two of you to twist at that sensitive bud. You shuddered, crying out his name before you followed in suit, walls clamping so tightly around him Namjoon struggled to breathe, his cock twitching as he squirmed from the overstimulation.

“M-Mistress.” You rolled your head to the side from where you were resting against Namjoon’s shoulder to meet the desperate gaze of Yoongi. His lips were swollen, crimson-bitten and he looked positively fucked out, chest heaving and thighs spread apart, member achingly hard and dripping obscenely with precum, pooling on the studio floor and against his stomach. Yoongi looked at you pleadingly, nerves frayed after having been edged and touch deprived for hours.

“Please, please touch me,” he sobbed. “I need to come. It hurts.”

You peeled yourself from Namjoon slowly, the man smirking at you as he cupped your sex, carefully ensuring his cum remained inside you as you hitched a leg over Yoongi. He moaned in sheer relief as you pressed your heat against his pulsating length. As you sank down, he rocked into you, unable to help himself. God, everything was so wet, he was practically fucking Namjoon’s release back into you with every thrust.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mewled, scrabbling at your hips. “‘M sensitive! C-can’t hold it, I’m n-not gonna last!”

“Come,” you panted, digging your fingers into his chest. Yoongi writhed beneath you, back arching as he shot his load deep into your caverns, warmth spreading through you as you collapsed against him.

You blinked up sleepily, Namjoon’s smiling face appearing above you as he started wiping you down gently with a wet towel, helping you slide on your panties. You cringed at the stickiness, their combined release trickling down your thigh.

Yoongi peered up at you, a lazy grin playing on his lips as he offered you his sweater, something he’d actually forgotten a few weeks back, reaching behind you to reclip your bra and tug it on.

“Thank you,” you whispered. Yoongi redressed slowly, lethargy coursing through his veins as he slumped back into his seat, you straddling him and resting your head against his chest. Namjoon took a seat behind you, hugging you close as he nuzzled the juncture of your neck.

You knew what was missing. It wasn’t anything in the song at all. It was these boys. With that realization, you let yourself go, focusing on the here and now, and the comforting scent of Yoongi’s cologne and Namjoon’s comforting touch.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #sub!yoongi #dom!namjoon #sub-bts-network

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parkaiur · 6 years ago

Text

Starstruck - Hyunsuk

❀ Comedy + fluff ft. lil bro!Junhyuk

❀ Word Count: 7.2K

❀ When Hyunsuk finds a wandering fangirl of his in the mall, he doesn’t think much of it until he bumps into his childhood friend who happens to be babysitting the her. As pictures of you and Hyunsuk blow up, he is tasked with the challenge to dial down the dating news. But as he tries and calms the dating rumor, the shipping only grows... will it be too much for you to handle? Or will you eventually give into the flirty boy’s charms?

❀ A/N: aaahh i was excited to write this and i hope you all enjoy it!! I live for junhyuk and hyunsuk interactions : ‘ )

❀ ❀ ❀

Hyunsuk pov

“AAHH HYUNSUK-AH CAN I TAKE A PICTURE WITH YOU!?” The girl screaming my name was about 13 years old, probably my brother’s age, yet she was somehow here alone. I gave the girl my most charming smile and laughed.

“Of course you can! How do you wanna pose?” I put up the V sign and she squealed. That always got them.

“Like that! Now look at my mom.” I didn’t realize her mom was standing not too far from us, but I put on my best smile and posed for her.

“One... two... three!” I could tell she took like thirty photos, but I tried to stay still for all of them. “And done! Thank you so much, my daughter loves you.” The mom patted my shoulder as I gave her a tight hug as well.

“No problem, this is the best part of the job.” I gave her a reassuring smile and she blushed.

“Um, not to be mean anything, but where’s your brother? You guys always seem to be together.” The girl asked.

“Oh, he’s in the bathroom right now, sorry you missed him but I’m sure he would have loved to see a girl as pretty as you.” I gave her a small wink with a smile and I swear she almost fainted.

She placed her hand over her mouth to not scream and scurried away. “You’re so handsome too! Thank you!” I waved them goodbye, as the daughter probably had to scurry away and edit the photos to put in instagram. No hate in the game, I would do the same if I were her.

“Ah, another fan? I missed one?” The younger boy pouted as his big cheeks inflated. I ‘awed’ at him and pinched his cheeks.

I casually slung an arm over his shoulder and adjusted my hat so it covered more of my face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be here when the next one comes, and the next, and the next.” I teased and pinched his cheeks once more. The boy cringed away but he was still laughing.

“Ok, but ice cream is on you!” Junhyuk said before running off to the nearest Cold Stone that was inside the mall. I rolled my eyes jokingly and followed him.

“Kiddo, ice cream is always on me, I’m your older brother and provider.”

It wasn’t like our parents were out of the picture, but Junhyuk had moved in with me as his school was closer to me and our parents had work, so they couldn’t drive him. We weren’t that far from them that we never saw our parents, but we were far enough to go out and have fun whenever we wanted.

When my YouTube career kicked off, I had gotten more money than I ever imagined from just being myself-- it was a surprise to everyone, including me.

It was now my full time career, and yes, my parents supported my decision to drop out from college. Probably ‘cause I could make more money for doing YouTube than doing anything else.

Suddenly, as I was trying to catch up to my brother, I felt a small body hit mine. “oof!” The girl yelled. She was about ten years old, and I was confused as to why she was walking around alone.

“I’m so sorry, kid, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I bent down to the girl and as soon as we locked eyes, her eyes got as big as saucers and she took a few steps back.

Oop, this again.

I gave her a gentle smile and backed up. “I swear I’m not a bad guy, you don’t need to be scared.” I teased. Her cheeks turned a bright red and I couldn’t help but pinch her cheeks.

“Hyung-” Junhyuk called out before seeing the girl standing before me. He then realized the situation and smiled at her. The girl turned ten times redder.

How cute.

“Hey, do you want a picture?” I asked carefully. The girl gulped and took a deep breath, composing herself. “Yes please! B-but my babysitter has her phone and I lost her.” The girl pouted and I could see tears in her eyes. I immediately went into big brother mode and pulled her closer to me, patting her head.

“Aw it’ll be okay, this mall isn’t that big, she’ll find us soon, yeah?” The younger girl nodded. “And I’m Hyunsuk, this is my brother Junhyuk, what’s your name?”

The girl sniffled. “I know your names, I’m a big fan.” She croaked out. I gave her a cocky smile and fixed my shirt playfully.

“Aw, well shucks.” She burst out laughing and wiped her eyes.

“My name is Naeun.” She introduced.

I shook her hand sternly and Junhyuk shook her hand softly. “Well Naeun, nice to meet you. And by the way, we can still have that picture and I’ll send it to your babysitter soon.”

She nodded happily as I took out my phone. “Hey, can you take a picture of us?” I asked a random bystander as I posed for the pic. I wiped Naeun’s cheeks. “Smile so you’ll remember us happy.” She nodded and smiled widely.

“One, two, and three! There.”

“Thank you,” I said while taking my phone back. I then bent down to Naeun. “Look how pretty the photos turned out, your babysitter will-”

“KIM NAEUN! THERE YOU ARE!” Suddenly, Naeun was scooped up by another’s arms. “You meanie, you got me so worried! Why didn’t you use your phone!?”

I furrowed my brows at that statement. “Phone?” I spat out.

As if the girl just noticed I was there, she turned to me and I immediately recognized her.

“Hyunsuk-”

“y/n.”

Junhyuk pulled on my arm sleeve and I looked at him. “You know her?” I nodded quickly and gave my best smile.

I saw Naeun tug on y/n’s arms and she tried to not look irritated. How y/n of her. “You know him!? You never mentioned that to me!” She exclaimed angrily. Y/n bent down to her level and flicked her forehead.

“Maybe because I knew you would annoy me ‘til the day I died if I told you. And we barely know each other, so don’t start with me. You’re in big trouble, your mom is worried sick!”

The girl looked like I remembered with multi-colored hair and intense eyes. She had that same frantic energy to her... I guess losing a kid added to that.

“Aw y/n, barely know each other? We had chemistry together senior year. And English all our four years of high school!” I exclaimed, while the girl sighed. She then leaned over to me, as I now felt her heavy breathing on my neck.

“I’m lying, ok, I see this kid twice a week and she’ll literally talk about you nonstop, I mean, she already does, but still, Choi Hyunsuk!” The girl gave me a playful glare, as we used to have mutual friends in high school, therefore, making us talk to each other. I’ll admit, I had a big fat crush on back then, but it died down since I didn’t talk to her after high school.

“Anyways, nice seeing you guys, and I’ll be taking this little devil home now. Sorry about the trouble.”

Before I could speak up, Junhyuk used his dimples to good use. “It’s ok, noona, she was really nice to us!” He smiled, causing y/n to smile back. Every girl loved my brother, it was like in their DNA to like cute kids.

“Junhyukie, you’re as sweet as I remembered, but you’re so big now, aye?” She laughed and patted him on the head.

Then, I remembered something. “Wait, we took photos on my phone, give me your number so I can send them to you.” The girl nodded and we exchanged numbers. I tried not to look giddy while doing so.

“Cool, thank you for taking care of her by the way, nice seeing you again when you’re all spiffy and famous.” She winked at me and then ushered Naeun away. “Ok, bye guys, Naeun say bye.” The younger girl waved shyly as y/n took her away.

“Now, ice cream?”

❀ ❀ ❀

“So, how did you feel about seeing y/n again today?” Junhyuk asked curiously. I was preparing dinner for the both of us, aka, putting lasagna in the oven. It needed to be a quick dinner since we were going to film our Q&A later.

I laughed at the boy’s comment. “What are you trying to say, kid?” I put him in a chokehold as he tried to push me away. I gave up as he wiggled away.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, hey, I’m just curious! You seemed to think she was cute.” I scoffed and turned on the TV.

“I think all girls are cute, Junhyuk.” I winked at him and turned up the volume, hoping the conversation would end. Junhyuk turned it back down.

“Ok true, but this girl was funny. And you flirted with her!” He pointed a finger at me and I slapped it away.

“I flirt with everyone, Junhyuk, it’s my job and it’s my nature.”

I turned the TV up, effectively ending the conversation.

We filmed the Q&A shortly after we ate. I set up the camera and lights, focusing the camera on Junhyuk while he drank a can of coke.

We always filmed in the same room, our art room. We had our friend Jihoon paint the walls with whatever he wanted, and he decided to paint a night sky. So that was that. It looked cool.

“Ok, ready?” The younger boy nodded as I pressed play.

“Yo, it’s your boy Big Bunny and...”

“Lil bunny!” I laughed and pinched the boys cheeks as he was just so adorable.

“Today, we will be answering your questions straight off of YouTube and twitter!” Junhyuk was already pulling up our Twitter while I went to our YouTube page.

“By the way, it’s about 11pm as we’re filming it, so the reason why it’s dark is because... it’s dark.” I noted, laughing at my own joke.

“Hyung! Someone asked what color are you dyeing your hair next?” I hummed and pretended like I was thinking.

“Um, I mean, I like the blonde, but probably a grayish, brickish color?” I said questioningly. Junhyuk glared at me.

“Dude, those were very different...” We stared at each other before bursting out into laughter.

“N e ways, let’s move on.” I scrolled down on YouTube, but most of them were thirst comments. I giggled lightly, but hid Junhyuk’s eyes away.

“EWWW I just saw that someone commented on our ‘eating without hands’ challenge ‘hyunsuk i want you to eat off of me next’ GROSS!” I shoved Junhyuk away and scrolled down further, not like that would help.

“I told you not to read those! But uh, to whoever said that.” I gave a sultry wink and lip bite to the camera as Junhyuk groaned uncomfortably. “Hyung~” He whined. I nodded, biting back laughter. “I’m joking, I’m joking, I don’t eat off of people.” I winked at the camera again, teasing the fans.

“Anyways, someone asked if either of us had a girlfriend.” I gasped and grabbed Junhyuk’s face.

“You better not!” I exclaimed. Junhyuk brushed my hand off, glaring at me.

“I’m only thirteen, I do not have a girlfriend, do you hyung?” He teased. I took my time, and then shook my head.

“Nope, single as single can be.” I then mouthed “call me” to the camera as Junhyuk punched my arm.

Then, his eyes widened in surprise. “What’s up?” I asked, letting my guard down.

Junhyuk then proceeded to shove his phone in my face. “LOOK!” I backed away and looked at what someone had @ me in.

It was a picture of me and y/n at the mall with the caption [omg who is she?? hyunsuk’s girlfriend?? friend?? what is their relationship?? I NEED TO KNOW NOW]

Then, I saw the comments on the post.

“what?? hyunsuk having a girlfriend? thought he was a player at heart”

“she’s so pretty thooo, hope theyre dating, he deserves someone so cute!”

“and she has a lil sis of her own??? perfect family <3″

“ew, she’s not even pretty what are you guys talking about? so bland”

“hyunsuk dating?!?! nooooooooooo he’s mine >:(”

I gulped and scrolled more, seeing the thread. “I just found her in Hyunsuk’s senior photo! Oh my gosh so they’re high school friends :o”

“Should we turn off the camera?” Junhyuk whispered. I nodded and shut it off, feeling the anger rush to my veins. “It’s okay, most of the comments are good, and it’s not like her info is out yet, it’ll be okay.”

I bit my lip and took off my hat, running my fingers through my hair. It was disgusting when my fans attacked every girl I even blinked at, yet when I was with a dude, they were shipping me left and right. It was so dumb.

“It’s fine, y/n is a tough cookie.”

I nodded and sighed, taking a big gulp of Coke. “Ok, I’ll edit this out later, let’s pretend I forgot to turn off the stove.” Junhyuk nodded obediently as I let out a scream to alleviate my anger.

“Ok we’re back!” I laughed fakely.

Junhyuk giggled and pinched me on the shoulder. “Yeah, Hyunsuk hyung forgot to turn off the stove-” I pretended to cover his mouth to keep him quiet.

“N E ways, let’s move on!”

❀ ❀ ❀

I always stayed up ‘til 4am to edit videos, alone. Junhyuk was always asleep by ten, my orders.

Then, I heard a knock on my door. I jumped at the sound since I wasn’t expecting anyone. The door opened, revealing a cheeky looking Junhyuk. “Hyung?” He called out.

I sighed and walked over to him. “Why are you still up?” I ruffled his hair and carried him over to my bed.

“Hm, I couldn’t sleep.” He whined, laying on my bed. “Can I sleep here?” I sighed and pretended to pout.

“Alright buddy, but you gotta leave some room for me.” I grumbled jokingly. He nodded and snuggled up to my blanket.

“Oh yeah hyung, I forgot to tell you, y/n accidentally dropped something while leaving, it totally left my mind.” I turned around in my chair, jaw dropped.

“Junhyuk.” I reprimanded, crossing my arms with a frown. Junhyuk whined and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I forgot! It was a makeup case though, she might need it soon.”

I groaned, running to my bed to tickle the boy. “Makeup case?? You know y/n is a makeup artist now?? She probably needs that!” I exclaimed furiously. I tickled him even harder, but he kicked me away.

“I’m sorry, sorry! Just text her now!” Junhyuk said with a cheeky smile. I rolled my eyes, wondering when my young, innocent brother had become so evil.

I grunted and stared at her number. “She’s probably not even up at this hour.” I noted lamely, different to my usual behavior. But, I knew she was up. It was winter break and I knew y/n didn’t sleep, like ever.

I sighed and whipped out my phone. Even if she wasn’t awake, she would see the message when she wakes up.

‘hey y/n, it’s hyunsuk. so my brother said that he found your makeup case on the ground and he didnt tell me til now cuz he forgot about it, so whenever you have the time, i can return it :)’ I sent the text without reading and set my phone down.

“There sent, she probably won’t-” Before I could finish talking, I heard my phone buzz. Junhyuk covered his giggle with the blanket as I threw my slippers at him.

‘omg thank you!!! i was looking all over for that!! are you free tmrw at noon? we can meet at the same mall’ -y/n

I gulped as Junhyuk popped out of bed to look at my phone. I pushed him away and started to text the girl back.

‘sounds good, i’ll meet you there’ I texted back simply.

She didn’t reply.

“Ah hyung, you got a date!” Junhyuk teased. I felt my face heat up and I tackled the younger boy. He screamed as I pushed him on the bed and I covered him up with the blankets. “Hyung, you should totally ask her about making a video, like one of those ‘my girlfriend does my makeup’-” I covered his mouth and rolled him over.

“Shut up, let’s go to sleep now, it’s WAY past your bedtime.” He pouted and pinched my cheeks, but eventually gave up. I yawned and hit the lights with some rolled up socks.

I laid in bed, listening to Junhyuk’s soft snores as I felt my heart race at the thought of seeing y/n again.

❀ ❀ ❀

I had good fashion.

Everyone always commented on it and ever since then, I started to buy more fashion magazines and look through different models online.

But right now, I felt weird for dressing so nicely to meeting y/n.

I was sitting in the mall, trying to hide my face with hat, but everyone always recognized me. I was pretty short and my fashion stood out.

“oh my gosh, is that hyunsuk??”

“No, no, that can’t be, he wouldn’t be here right now.”

I felt bad as they walked away, but I didn’t want people to know I was here. I didn’t want people taking pictures of me and y/n.

“Wow, I can see you never grew out of the hat phase.” I looked up from my phone and saw y/n smiling at me. I chuckled and shook my head.

“Well, not everyone changes from high school.” I teased, looking at her face. She scoffed and sat down.

“Just because I started to wear makeup after high school doesn’t mean that I changed completely.” She snapped, flipping her hair dramatically. I laughed and scooted in my chair so that we were closer.

Y/n was always good at doing makeup, but never wore it on herself. “I have to wear it because who trusts a makeup artist who doesn’t wear makeup.” She complained while putting her hand out.

I plopped the makeup case in her hand and gave her a flirty smile. “Here you go, next time you lose things, just call me.” She raised a brow and put her case in her bag slowly.

“I see fame did not change your flirty ways.” She commented while sipping on her coffee. I shrugged my shoulders and wiggled my eyebrows, something she always hated. She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile.

“Fame? Am I famous now?” I joked. She almost spit out her drink at my words.

“Excuse me? I hear your name about ten times a day from walking around, and I hear it a million times more when I’m babysitting Naeun. It’s crazy, Hyunsuk.” I blushed at all her compliments. I hid my red cheeks by sipping on my drink.

“But, I always knew you would make it. You’re a really funny dude.” She patted me on the arm, not thinking much of physical touch. I let out a forced laughter.

It was true, y/n always told me I should become famous. I thought she was joking, but I admit she went through my mind when I started doing YouTube.

“Thanks, but my good looks helped me as well.” She choked on her drink and laughed at me. I couldn’t help but laugh along with her as well-- it was contagious.

“Oh gosh, still the same ego, Hyunsuk. The same.” She rolled her eyes and stood. “As much as I would love to go down memory lane, I have to dogsit for my friends in an hour.” I nodded and stood with her.

“Um, it was nice seeing you though, and uh, also, I’m not sure if you saw pictures of us circulating... but uh...” She stopped walking and turned to me.

“I saw, and it’s fine, I mean, you’re famous, and things like that don’t bother me much.” She bit her lip, a habit she had when she as lying. “Don’t worry about it.” She patted me on the back and turned to walk away.

“Cool, bye y/n.” She waved back and smiled at me.

“Good luck.”

“You too.”

And I walked away as well.

❀ ❀ ❀

I woke up to Junhyuk jumping on my bed, shoving his phone in my face.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung!” He screamed, interrupting my afternoon nap. I groaned and tried to shove him off. “Look at the news, you and y/n are trending!”

That woke me up. I tossed off my hat and stared at his phone.

[BREAKING] Famous YouTuber, Choi Hyunsuk, found to be in a relationship with a girl from his high school, her name was revealed to be Y/N and she happens to be a well looked upon makeup artist on instagam and owns her own salon. Stay tuned for more info on this and if the world’s sweetheart and flirt, Hyunsuk, will respond.

My jaw dropped at the article, my mind spun with all this false information.

I looked at my phone and saw two missed calls from y/n. “Fuck.” I said angrily. I immediately called her back.

She picked up almost immediately. “HYUNSUK, AAAHH” She screamed in my ear. I held the phone away and pushed Junhyuk away.

“Look, I know, I know, it’s a lot! Lemme just think!” I said, trying to calm her down. Y/n was a lot when she was stressed, and it seemed like she was stressed right now.

“We literally were seen TWICE, and people think we are dating?? Do people think that going on 2 dates is in a relationship?!” She exclaimed. I heard her drinking water over the phone, probably one of her stress things.

“Look, I’m surprised too, but I can fix this, it’s fine!”

Before, I could finish my sentence, Junhyuk snatched the phone from me and put in on speaker.

“Hey y/n noona!” He called out. “Hey, Junhyuk, what’s up?” Her tone softened, but I could tell she was still tense.

“I have an idea actually on how to fix this!” He announced, looking at me with stern eyes. I tried not to push him over.

“Ok... how?”

“Come over and film a video with us, like a ‘my girlfriend does my makeup’, but instead of girlfriend, it’ll just be friend, and it’ll show that you guys are just friends instead of dating. And yes, it’ll make more people ship you, but at least people will know the truth and people will stop harassing you for answers.”

That... that was a good idea.

I heard y/n breathing through the phone, thinking of her response.

“Ok, fine. When should I come?”

❀ ❀ ❀

She was dog sitting until 7pm, so she was coming at 8. And right now, it was 7:30.

“Hyung, calm down, you should start writing a script.” I sighed and grabbed my flimsy notebook. “It’s gonna be okay, and if it all works out, she’ll actually be your girlfriend.” I grabbed for his cheeks but he flinched away.

“You lil punk!” I poked him on his side, but he ran away before I could do any major damage.

I set down my notebook, not needing to write anything out and instead worked on setting up my camera so we could start right as she came. I sprayed cologne on myself, making sure I didn’t smell like shit.

I fixed my shirt and made sure it looked loose, yet still stylish.

Why are you doing this? You’re such a loser.

Then, I heard the doorbell ring.

“I got it!” Junhyuk yelled, running down the stairs. Before I could stop him, he was already tossing the door open. That punk.

“Hey, Junhyuk, how are you?”

“Better now that you’re here.” The girl stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes at him. She lightly flicked his forehead and stepped in the house.

“You’ve been hanging around your brother too much, stop picking up his corny pick up lines.” I laughed as she insulted me.

“Well excuse you, those lines actually work.” She sighed dramatically and shook her head. “No it’s not the lines that work, it’s the face.” She shrugged and closed the door behind her.

“Anyways, let’s start, I’m kind of camera shy so...” She frowned and held out her big makeup case. I assumed the other case was just a backup. My eyes widened as I rolled up my sleeves.

“Well, this way, ma’dam.” She chuckled at my dramatic act, but followed me either way. “Your house is huge.” She commented while staring at our chandelier.

“Yeah, Hyunsuk likes to show it off to girls.” I punched Junhyuk on the arm as the girl raised a brow.

She was wearing a casual sweater with black skinnies. Her eyes were fierce as she her makeup was carefully and precisely done. It was amazing what she did with makeup.

I was lowkey jealous.

I showed her to our filming room and she gasped. “What?” I quickly said.

She shook her head in laughter. “Nothing, it’s just so weird to see this room since it’s in all of your videos. I feel famous, heh,” She chuckled before sitting on the bench we had for filming. “Let’s start!” She cheered.

I sucked in a breath at all of her products. I don’t know what I got myself into.

“Um, so just when we tell you to say your name, just say it. We don’t really write a script since we mostly vlog and do dumb challenges.” I said sheepishly. She nodded and brushed her hair out of her face.

“Great. I feel so secure now.” She said, sarcasm laced in her voice. I snorted and had Junhyuk turn on the camera.

“Good, we’re starting in three.. two..” The red light was on.

“Yo wassup guys, this is big bunny with,”

“Lil bunny!” Junhyuk popped his head in the frame.

“And today, we have a special guest...”

She paused for a moment, staring at me. “Oh, um, y/n.” I snorted and moved on.

“And today we’re doing a very the ‘my friend does my makeup challenge’ since I think it’s well known that you do makeup now.” Y/n rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Yes, I’m sure everyone and their mom has seen my works for now. I guess I can’t be too mad about that.” I laughed and clapped my hands together.

“So, uh, it’s sorta self-explanatory, y/n will be doing my makeup today and I hope I’ll look pretty afterwards.” I did the famous flower pose, and she pretended to barf. “Rude.” I mumbled, but I couldn’t help the smile that lit up my face.

“First, foundation.”

❀ ❀ ❀

It took 3 hours for her to do my makeup, and she told me that was her rushing. The filming process was tiring and hard.

“Ok, done with the eyes, not all we have left is lips.” She cheered, showing me my face with a small mirror. I saw the intense brown and smokey eyeshadow, which made my eyes pop. I burst out laughing, same as Junhyuk.

She gasped and hit my shoulder. “Shut up! You look hot.” She commented. I tried not to blush as she said that. I giggled instead and tried to kiss her cheek. She pushed me away. I expected that.

“Relax your lips.” I raised my brows in surprise, a cheeky smile appearing on my face.

“Excuse me?” She hit my shoulder, making me gasp in pain.

“Stop talking and do as I say.” I relaxed my lips, trying not to laugh as she applied lipstick to me.

I let my eyes run over her soft features. Her brows were knotted together from focus and she pursed her lips, scrunching her nose as well. She was even more beautiful up close.

“There, you’re all finished.” She said, clapping her hands together. I took one look at myself with lipstick on and wished I could burn the photo as fast as possible. She giggled as she kept staring at me.

“I hope you think you’re beautiful because this is some of my best work.” She pouted and shoved the mirror in my face. I could hear Junhyuk giggling in the background.

“You’re right, I look fabulous.” I hummed, appeasing her.

“And uh, that’s it for this video! See you all next week, hopefully I’ll look like me again.” I laughed in the camera’s face and sighed, my back aching from having her draw on my face for so long.

“Don’t be such a wimp, Hyunsuk. You look fine.” She said while putting all her makeup away. I took out the wipes and started to wipe away. “I need to sleep, I cannot have this all of my face. How do girls put this on everyday?”

“Because girls are stronger than men?” Junhyuk noted from afar. Y/n nodded and saluted him. “You were raised well, Junhyukie.”

I bit my tongue from saying he was raised by me.

“Well, this was fun, but I need to get home now. I have work in the mornings, see you sometime.” She walked downstairs, her makeup clanking with each step.

“It’s weird seeing you after high school, I feel like we’re so different, yet the same.” She nodded and leaned against the door frame.

“I feel like I see you everyday because of your vlogs, maybe that’s why your fans think they’re dating you.” She teased. I blushed and shook my head with a smile.

“Sorry, you’re probably gotten some weird messages.” She snorted and pulled out her phone.

“Look, some girl asked me what were your favorite things to do in bed, and asked me if I could show her.” My eyes widened at the message. “It’s disgusting. Like, why would I share with that with her pfft.” She joked and I hit her on the arm playfully.

“Just go, you have a long day tomorrow.” She sighed, like she was remembering the long day she would have.

“You’re right. Good night, Hyunsuk.”

I gave her a small smile. “Night y/n. Drive safely.”

She nodded and walked out the door.

I watched her leave, making sure she got out of the driveway safely.

“oOOoOOoO Hyunsuk’s got a crush!”

“Shut up, Junhyuk!”

But I couldn’t help but smile.

❀ ❀ ❀

I uploaded the video a week after we filmed it as editing had taken longer than usual and we had videos that were already planned.

I watched as the comments flooded in.

“omg, so theyre only friends? darn they look so cute together!”

“she’s hilarious!!! have her in more of your videos!!”

“her laugh is annoying and her makeup skills... yikes. how did she make it?”

“uhhhh can i marry this girl? she’s so cute”

“ugh shes so ugly i hate her.”

“omg did u see the way hyunsuk looked at her when she applied his lipstick?? he is in love omg”

“if hyunsuk doesnt tap that soon, i will LMAO”

“Hyung, are you reading the comments?” I immediately scrolled to a more age appropriate one.

I pretended to be surprised when I saw him. “Uh yah, I always do.” He pouted and sat next to me in my bed. “I hate reading them but sometimes I love reading them.” I nodded, knowing how he felt.

“Hyung, I like her, are you going to date her?” Junhyuk asked innocently. I patted his head, thinking about how to respond.

“Dating is a two way street, but I’m sure y/n would like to hang out with us again. She’s really fun to be around.”

Junhyuk nodded and yawned loudly. “Yeah, and pretty.”

I heard him start to snore, as I thought carefully about his words.

“That too.” I mumbled, answering his statement from before.

❀ ❀ ❀

‘omg hyunsuk you wouldn’t believe what just happened’ -y/n.

I jolted up at her text, reading it again.

‘what?? you finally admit youre falling for my good looks?? ;)’

‘...in ur dreams loser.’

I laughed at her response.

‘no, someone came up to me today, in the salon, and asked for a picture with me!!’ My eyes widened at her statement.

‘wtf... cuz u were in one of my videos??’

‘YES. she said she loved us two together and hope we start dating.... i didnt know what to say’

I bit my lip as I typed the next line. ‘uhhhh an ok wouldve sufficed ;)’

‘go away hyunsuk, your lady killer charms wont work on me’ I raised a brow at her text.

‘lady killer?’

‘yah, thats what people call boys like u >:(’

‘well i dont wanna kill girls, i wanna k*ss them :(’

‘..... i need to go back to work, later loser’

‘have fun~’

❀ ❀ ❀

Weeks had passed since I met up with y/n in person and I admit, I was going crazy. Somehow, we were texting daily and the conversations weren’t dry and boring as it was with other girls.

“Hyung, I miss y/n.” Junhyuk whined to me. I rolled my eyes, feeling my heart beat pick up at his words.

“Well, she has work right now. There’s nothing I can do.” I pouted, equally as sad as him. Junhyuk looked at me with puppy eyes.

“Let’s visit her.” He whined with bright eyes. “I don’t see why we can’t, she works in a public place and we can bring her treats.”

I thought long and hard about his suggestion.

One minute later, I spoke.

“Fine, let’s go.”

❀ ❀ ❀

I turned on the car camera we had and waved to the camera.

“Yo guys, it’s big bunny and lil bunny here today, and right now, we are on a secret mission to surprise y/n at work!” I exclaimed, pulling into the drive through window of Dairy Queen.

“So, what you guys don’t know is that y/n LOVES chicken strips and ice cream, so that’s what we are getting her...”

“And all of her co-workers!” Junhyuk added. I nodded.

“Uhhh hi, can I get-”

“OMG ARE YOU CHOI HYUNSUK? AAAHH AND JUNHYUK TOO??? OH MY GOD!!” The girl screamed as I approached the window. I laughed and flashed her a charming smile.

“Hmmm, well yes, do you know who I am?” I teased. The girl nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Aw don’t cry, it’s just me.” I smiled and tilted my head at her. She squealed.

“Oh gosh, what can I get you?” She said quickly. I answered quickly to ease her tension.

“Um, can I got 10 orders of chicken nuggets and 10 oreo blizzards as well?” Her eyes widened.

“Of course, anything else?” I shook my head as she started to take pictures of me. Of course, I smiled for the camera.

“Nope, thank you!” I cheered.

The same thing happened at the next window.

“This is a lot of food, are you guys doing a mukbang?” The girl asked curiously. I laughed and shrugged my shoulders.

“Hmmm not quite, you’ll see when the video airs next Wednesday, stay tuned.” I winked at her as she plopped the food in my hands.

“I love you!” She cheered as we drove away.

Junhyuk and I stared at the camera. “We love our fans, they’re so cute and passionate.” I noted. Junhyuk nodded. “And they’re always so nice.”

We arrived at y/n’s work shortly after and brought the bags with us.

“Damn, it’s so hard to carry the camera and this food at the same time!” I exclaimed, trying to balance everything.

Junhyuk nodded while carrying most of the stuff since I was carrying the camera. “Now, let’s go in!”

We walked in the makeup shop and immediately were bombarded by tons of screaming and yelling.

“OH MY GOD IT’S HYUNSUK AND JUNHYUK!!! AAAHHH”

I saw phones being pulled out and jaws dropping. I would usually pause and look for the cameras, but this time, I was looking for y/n.

And then I saw her.

She was sitting in chair with her eyebrows up to her hairline. “What are you doing?” She mouthed. I held out food. “I got you food, as well as your co-workers.” She wanted to glare at me, but she sighed.

“Oh my god, it’s y/n and Hyunsuk! OH MY OJGKSDFJG”

“MY SHIP! AAAHH! IT’S HAPPENING!” I saw girls whipping out their phones, but I didn’t care.

Y/n then stood up abruptly and guided me to break room. I had switched off the camera as she pulled me away, knowing my viewers would be curious about what we would talk about, alone.

She then pointed at the freezer. “Put the blizzards in the freezer.” She said while setting the chicken strips on the table. She looked stressed and I was quite confused. Most girls would be fawning over me right now...

Junhyuk was still outside, probably chatting it up with the older girls.

“Surprise?” I said sheepishly with a smile, but she only gave me a hard one back. “What’s wrong?” I asked quietly. She sighed and crossed her arms, which was a bad sign.

“Nothing it’s just... I don’t know, a little stressed out?” I tilted my head in curiosity.

“‘Cause of work?” She nodded and started to eat one of the blizzards.

“Yes, that and ever since our scandal blew up, business has been booming and of course, I’m happy! But it’s been quite overwhelming... and also, some people just come in my work to stalk me out and it’s quite annoying, and sorta scary. I don’t know... people aren’t always nice...” She trailed off, her eyes turning glossy.

I felt my heart pinch as I never meant to hurt her because of my fame. I took a step towards her, but she took one back.

“Ouch.” I spat out loud, coming out harsher than I had wanted.

“I’m sorry, Hyunsuk. Whatever you’re trying to do, I don’t want it. Actually, I just can’t handle it...” She looked into the distance as she said her next works. “You’re a great guy but...”

I nodded, gritting my teeth.

“Don’t worry, I understand.” I said a little too harshly. The girl stepped back, surprised because of my harsh tone.

“I get it, you’re scared. So was every girl I was interested in, you’re the same as them I guess. I was wrong.” I said impulsively.

Shit, why did I say that?

Y/N’s expressions dropped, making me regret my words. She scoffed and put the blizzard down.

“If you think I’m the same as every other girl, then you’re wrong.” She defended, crossing her arms, her eyes angry and stern.

I gulped, unable to say anything else. My blood was boiling and I felt like kicking something, but my mom raised me better than to do that.

Then, Junhyuk came into the room.

“Hey, um, sorry I got carried away.”

The atmosphere was tense as y/n and I were still breathing heavily.

“C’mon, we’re leaving.” I snapped, taking my keys out.

Junhyuk glanced over to y/n. “W-what, we-”

“Let’s go.” I raised my tone at him which meant I was mad. He knew I never would raise my tone for no reason.

“You can sneak out the back door.”

I nodded, not wanting to acknowledge her kindness.

“And Hyunsuk?” She spoke up. I took a deep breath before spinning around.

“Yes?”

“I hope the next girl is different. And I hope you toss the ego of yours out the window because it’s getting unattractive.”

I grit my teeth and tore open the door, practically tossing Junhyuk outside.

“What-”

“Nothing. I’m done. We’re done or whatever.”

❀ ❀ ❀

It had been two days since the event and I was still upset.

Was I being a prick?

How dare she say my ego was unattractive! I was confident, but never cocky. I knew my fame, but I never took advantage of it.

Soon, my door popped open and Junhyuk poked his head in.

“Hyung, are you okay?” He asked quietly. I snorted and grabbed my phone off the night stand.

“I’m fine.” I said harshly, immediately regretting it as he looked hurt. I sighed and turned on my lamp. “Come here.” I whispered. He ran over to me and laid on my bed, cuddling my soft blanket.

I patted his head as he closed his eyes.

“Are you and y/n over?”

I clenched my jaw, feeling hurt all over at her name.

“We never started, Junhyuk, never started.”

I thought Junhyuk fell asleep until he played with my sleeve.

“Hyung?” He whispered. I nodded and pulled him closer to me.

“Yeah?”

“She’s right, sometimes your ego gets a little much. And not because you walk around like you’re the hottest shit, it’s because you’re trying to throw her into this lifestyle too quickly and judging her when she couldn’t handle it.”

“You should’ve told her that you would fight for her when she told you to go away... girls like that stuff.”

I gasped and flicked his forehead. “You were listening.” He blushed and nodded quickly.

“I was... sorry. But I couldn’t help it. You guys sounded too scary to get involved.”

I gave him a tight smile and patted his head a bit harder.

“When did you learn what girls like?”

Junhyuk giggled and locked eyes with me. “You. You always told me that precious things should be fought for. And I think y/n can be a precious person to you.”

And at those words, he fell asleep.

Fuck, I screwed up.

❀ ❀ ❀

Was getting roses too much for an apology? No... y/n likes the color red. She’ll like these.

But she hates having so much attention on her.

But I’ll be the only one there... so that’s only a one person attention.

I sighed and adjusted my gray button up.

It was the end of her shift for the day, meaning there was no people in the salon besides. I remember her telling me that she stayed 30 minutes after the salon closed so that she could clean up.

I took a deep breath and entered the salon.

“We’re closed-”

She stopped talking when she saw me standing there with roses and with a suit. She dropped her broom and covered her mouth.

“Oh my god, you did not!” She exclaimed, surprise written all over her face.

I nodded and smiled softly. “I did though...” She stared at me with adoration and she crossed her arms.

“So... you finally put your ego away?”

I nodded and handed her the flowers. “Yes, my brother told me I was a dumbass, and I realized he was right. I shouldn��t have yelled at you, you were right to have your own feelings about being put in the spotlight. I was a prick for thinking everyone was used to the celeb life.” I smirked and poked her with a flower.

She huffed and pushed it away, glaring at me. “You’re an idiot.”

I nodded slowly.

“Only for you.”

I leaned in to kiss her, but the girl backed away slowly. “U-um, sorry, lemme try that again.” She whispered, scrunching her nose together.

I chuckled at her shyness, but leaned in once more, finally getting that kiss I’ve always wanted.

[BREAKING] Y/N and YouTuber Choi Hyunsuk confirmed to be dating! They were spotted locking lips in Y/n’s very own salon after hours! Congrats to the new couple!

#yg treasure box #ygtblbr #yg treasure box scenarios #ygtb scenarios #ygtb #ygtb imagines #yg treasure box imagines #choi hyunsuk #hyunsuk scenarios #hyunsuk imagines #choi hyunsuk scenarios #hyunsuk

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