#sorry it cuts off weirdly I wanted to finish this before I disappear for a week to spend time with my bf

[tired-and-ticklish]

Bonding Exercise

Sequel to “Rough Day”

Summary: Angel and Husk try to escape Charlie’s new idea for a bonding exercise, but The Princess, her girlfriend, and a certain Radio Demon are persistent.

TW: Tickling (slightly intense), Swearing, Slight Restraints, Alastor being a bastard, References to Alastor’s past, Angel Dust being Angel Dust.

Disclaimer: I do not support V*v*z*epop, I simply like the characters and exploring their dynamics, usually in silly ways.

Part Three

“One~”

Despite the distance the two demons had put between themselves and the Radio Demon, they both could clearly hear his voice, accentuating how absolutely fucked they were. Angel was a bit faster, his longer legs giving him an advantage, but Husk wasn’t far behind, running quicker than he ever had in his life or unlife.

“Split up!” Angel exclaimed, quickly turning down a random hallway.

“Don’t need to fucking tell me twice!” Husk replied, almost skidding to a halt as he course-corrected down an entirely different hallway.

Charlie stopped upon seeing them both go in different directions, pouting slightly “Now who do we go after?”

“How about you two go after our effeminate fellow, and I’ll go after Husker?” Alastor suggested, though Vaggie raised an eyebrow.

“We’re not trying to torture them.” The bodyguard replied, to which the deer waved a hand.

“If I intended to torture either of those two, everyone would know.” Alastor replied, the radio effects of his voice becoming more sinister, but just for a moment. “No, I simply think our dear bartender needs to smile a bit more!”

“Come on Vaggie, I think I know where Angel’s running!” Charlie exclaimed, grabbing her girlfriend by the arm before she could protest and starting down a different hallway.

Vaggie couldn’t help but give Charlie a smile, despite thinking the whole idea was a bit ridiculous. Still, it gave her an excuse to get Angel back for all the times the spider demon had messed with them, or done anything that pushed back his ‘progress.’ She also knew she couldn’t find it in herself to say ‘no’ to the Princess, especially when she got that determined glimmer in her eyes.

“Good luck, darlings!” Alastor called as they both ran off, before continuing his own pursuit of the bartender.

—

Angel ran as fast as his legs could carry him, listening for any signs of his pursuers. All he needed to do was get to his room and barricade himself in there until Charlie forgot this whole dumb idea. However, Hell was more likely to freeze over than its Princess giving up or forgetting any of her ideas.

The spider knew his room was close, and he hadn’t seen or heard any of the purseres. Maybe that all went after Husk? A small shudder went up Angel’s spine as he looked behind him. As much as he did not want to be tickled again, the idea of the cat demon being tickled by Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor was a fate he wouldn’t wish upon anyone in the hotel.

“Oh Angel!” He was torn from his thoughts, looking forward and almost screaming as he saw The Princess and her girlfriend, waiting right in front of his door.

“Found you.” Vaggie said, grinning mischievously.

Angel attempted to turn on his heel, but couldn’t slow down enough for it to be effective. His legs got tangled in one another, and he tumbled to the floor, groaning as he did. Before he could even attempt to get up and flee, the girls were upon him, Vaggie holding his upper pair of arms over his head, while Charlie straddled his waist.

“L-Ladies please,” Angel attempted to beg, tugging his arms as best he could. “Y-You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, we know.” Vaggie said with a sly grin. “But we want to.”

Charlie immediately started skittering her figures on Angel’s stomach, making the spider snicker. Angel attempted to shove the Princess off with his lower set of arms, but anytime he tried, Charlie would ‘accidentally’ tickle a bit harder, making him lose focus. 

“C-Chaahahaharlihihihihe wahahahait!”

“Awww but Angel, you look so happy right now!”

“Behehehecause yohohohou’re tihihihihckling mehehehe!”

Angel squealed as Charlie’s claws made their way to his lower set of armpits, shaking his head. In his attempts to plead with the Princess, he didn’t notice until it was too late that Vaggie had changed her position, pinning his upper arms with her legs, soon feeling her fingers on his ribs.

“EEP! NohhoohoHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHerehehehe!” Angel shrieked, his face turning a light pink shade.

“Hey, Angel, do you have more or less ribs as a spider?” Vaggie asked, ignoring his pleas. “Guess I need to double check.”

“Dohohohon’t YOHOHOOHHOU DAHAHAHRE, Vahahahahagina!”

The pornstar felt Vaggie stop tickling him for a moment, making him realize he had just dug his own second grave. Any begging he could have done was soon cut off by the feeling of the hotel guard’s fingers slowly and torturously dragging over his ribs, followed shortly by her counting.

“SHIHIHIHIT SIHIHIHHIT IHIHIHIHI’M SOHOHOHOHRRY!” Angel cried out, kicking his legs as the girls continued tickling him.

“Two… three… Fiv- Wait, that’s not right.” The spider could practically hear the smirk in Vaggie’s voice “Can you hold still? I’m trying to count.”

“IHIHIHIHI CAHHAHAAN’T!” Angel whined

“Aww, sure you can Angel!” Charlie said encouragingly. “I’ll even go slower so you can focus!”

At that, Angel felt Charlie’s tactic switch from scribbling on his lower armpits, and a finger on each one just slowly start circling around the hollows, driving him up a wall. It tickled just enough to get him giggling, but also left him wanting more. The spider was starting to get the suspicion that somehow, someway, the girlfriends had gotten Cherri Bomb to tell them exactly how to destroy him.

“Five… six… Huh, you’re actually doing a good job.” Vaggie said as she tickled between his ribs “Guess the redemption work is paying off.”

“Well, he hasn’t asked us to stop.” Charlie pointed out, making Angel’s face turn an even darker shade of pink. “Maybe he’s enjoying this~?”

Fuck, despite how kind Charlie was, she was absolutely fucking evil when it came to tickling. 

—-

Alastor hummed as he casually walked the direction Husk went. Sure, the Radio Demon could simply summon the bartender to him, but where was the fun in that? If there was one thing he loved more than the act of killing, it was the thrill of the chase. The fear and desperation in people’s eyes, the absolute panic that washed over as they were cornered, before he descended upon them.

An expression he’d like to see on that obnoxious, pompous, piece of shit television one day.

It was an expression he had seen Husker make many times over their years knowing each other. Though, often that was because the cat had done something to make the deer angry. Now? Now, Alastor would be seeing the hotel’s dear bartender making that expression for an entirely different reason.

It was one of the reasons he suggested to be the one to go after Husk. Not just due to their longer time knowing each other, but because the Radio Demon was already aware of what would cause the cat to break from his usual grumpy demeanor. Surely, people would assume Alastor of all people would think tickling was a waste of time, but oh, how he enjoyed it.

Spending time with both Husk and Niffty, he had learned a few things. Specifically, the maid wasn’t at all ticklish, whereas the bartender was entirely too ticklish for his own good. If nothing else, Alastor was known for dealing in extremes.

“Ah, there you are!” Alastor exclaimed, seeing Husk had run himself into a corner, the cat quickly turning to look at him.

“Shit, fuck, dammit!” A string of expletives left the bartender’s mouth as he tried to look for a way to escape. Any hopes of that were cut off by the shadows that followed the Radio Demon pinned the cat to the wall. “Look, boss, t-this whole thing is ridiculous.”

“Oh, on the contrary, Husker, I think this will be quite enjoyable!” Alastor said, looking the bartender over. So many good places to start, and each eliciting a different reaction from Husk.

Husk, meanwhile, tried to free himself. If he hadn’t known any better, the cat would have assumed Alastor somehow planned all of this. Which, he really couldn’t put past the deer, but planning for Nift to tickle Angel, leading to this whole thing? That was the type of planning not even the Radio Demon could come up with.

Mostly because no one could really ‘plan’ for anything with it came to the hotel maid.

“I recall this,” Alastor began, the claws on his right hand gently wiggling on Husk’s chin. “Being a wonderful place to start.”

The reaction was instant, the cat’s fur quickly puffing up slightly as he bit his lip. He wasn’t going to give the bastard the satisfaction, not if he could help it. Of course, he had tried, and failed, in the past, but that didn’t mean he was just going to give in to the Radio Demon’s antics.

“Still trying that tactic, are we?” The deer hummed in amusement, moving his other hand to Husk’s side. “I never understand why you must make things so difficult!”

A few snickers came out, but the bartender was determined, trying to squirm away from Alastor’s hands. Said hands simply followed where the cat moved. Now, Alastor could use his powers to tickle multiple spots at once, but that was something reserved for those who pissed him off enough to face his wrath, but not enough to where he’d be satisfied by killing them.

“You know, Husker,” Alastor said casually, like he wasn’t tickling the demon before him. “When we were filming that ridiculous commercial for the hotel, I had half a mind to have our darling Niffty tickle you, just off-camera, so you’d be smiling!”

“Bihihihihite me!” Husk replied, doing his best to glare at the Overlord.

“A poor choice of words, considering who you’re talking to.” The Radio Demon chuckled, now slowly moving his left hand toward the bartender’s side. “You should really think before you speak.”

Husk tried to growl at Alastor, but it was cut off by the ticklish feeling on his side. More snickers gave way, the cat demon’s lips forming a wobbly smile despite his best efforts. He felt the deer’s right hand move from his chin and start poking his ribs, making the bartender snort a bit. He knew the deer was messing with him, taking his time before going right for Husk’s death spot.

“I never tire of counting your ribs, Husker.” Alastor mused. “Afterall, I need to make sure you’re all together!”

“Yohohohohou cohohohohocky bahahahastard!” Husk retorted.

Alastor tsked, and the cat felt himself start to panic as the Overlord’s hands went toward his stomach. “Always with the fowl language, that should be reserved for birds!”

If Husk could groan, he would. Of course Alastor had to get one of his stupid ‘jokes’ in while the bartender couldn’t just walk out of the room. Though, the puns did help whenever the Radio Demon wanted Angel Dust to leave him alone. He didn’t know what was worse, the Overlord’s love of ‘dad jokes’, or his insatiable sadistic streak. 

“Wohohohuld yoohohhou stohohohp- FUHUUHUHUHCK!” Husk exclaimed as Alastor scratched and clawed at his stomach. The first of the bartender’s worst spots.

Once he was sure Husk couldn’t escape, Alastor snapped his fingers, causing the shadows to let him go as the bartender slid to the floor, still trying to run away from the Radio Demon’s fingers. The deer poked and prodded, even circling a finger slowly around where the cat’s belly button would be.

“Don’t cats enjoy having their stomachs petted?” Alastor teased, a small laugh track coming from him.

“THAHAHAT’S dohohohohohgs yohohoHOHOHO PRIHIHIHICK!”

“Ah, forgive me.” Alastor said, not at all sounding apologetic “I was never a ‘dog’ person. Cats are much more amusing!”

“Thhihihihihis IHIHIHISN’T AMUHuhuhuhuhumsing!”

“You’re entitled to your opinion, but you wouldn’t be laughing if it wasn’t!”

Husk was going to kill him. Okay, no, he wasn’t that stupid or reckless, but he was going to make sure the Radio Demon paid for this. However, Husk’s plans of revenge were cut off by the feeling of two of Alastor’s tendrils stroking his wings, causing the bartender to scream with laughter.

“You know, I think Niffty needs to brush your wings soon, when was the last time she did that?” Alastor asked, despite knowing Husk wouldn’t be able to answer.

Despite both Angel and Husk being tickled out of their minds, they both hated to admit they were having fun. Maybe Charlie’s idea wasn’t so dumb.

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here bestie and it looks like we're going to be in for another round of reduce, reuse, and recycle next episode 🙄🙄🙄. The stupidity of this is truly astounding, so since we only have 2 days before this shitshow hits the screen I have chosen to fight stupid with ridiculous and wish to share my optimal scenario for getting rid of guest stars and dumb plots.

First Buck is on a dinner date with Natalia, who pumping him for details about his "death", when Kameron and Connor come over. They have no sense of boundaries so they say they have news about the baby Buck donated sperm for. At first Buck is worried Natalia's going to freak out but she gets weirdly interested and asks when he did that. He explains it was before his death and Natalia starts staring creepily at Kameron's stomach and spouts some nonsense about Buck's death was in exchange for creating life and repeated refers to the "death baby". Kameron backs away and stutters out that they just wanted to tell Buck they ran some tests and Connor is the dad after all. Natalia is instantly dismissive and goes back to eating while Buck politely excuses himself and runs from the restaurant.

Cut to Eddie on the beach in heavy pining mode monologuing to himself extensively about how he wanted a sign and Buck on a date with Natalia who "sees him" clearly is a sign its not meant to be. He spots Marisol and starts reluctantly making his way to her when Buck, still fleeing his date, slams into him and knocks him over. He starts going off about how nuts Natalia is but stops when he noticed Eddie glaring at the heavens mutter "goddamnit..".

After the big finale emergency Eddie and Buck are stuck on an uncollapsed portion of the bridge with no way down to the ground. Buck starts to say this whole ordeal has made him realize and appreciate the people in his life more while giving Eddie A Look. Before he can finish though a helicopter comes in with L dangling from a harness and she says some crap like "need a ride" while winking at Buck. Eddie casually shoves her away causing her to spin comically in a circle and then asks Buck "You were saying?".

Hope you enjoyed this as a break from thinking about what is to come and some of the takes floating around out there. Also since you're the actual writer here I'd love to hear of you have an ideal scenario, we might as well have fun with this mess until forced to do otherwise.

Sorry this is so late at night my friend! It was my niece's birthday and I was out of town with every intention of being home by 8 or 9 tonight to answer this before an early bedtime so naturally it was after 11 before I actually got home 🤷🏻‍♀️

Yeah, none of the news coming out about Buck or Eddie's storylines interest me because it's all just a rinse and repeat of season 4 at this point and I'm so so very tired.

I enjoyed your version of events! There's a reason "gotta laugh to keep from screaming" is a tag I use often! 🤣 This gave me quite the giggle reading over it the other night! I wouldn't call myself *much* of a writer though if I was less brain dead I'm sure I could come up with something (6 year-olds man. They will wear you OUT!)

But ideally I would love to see sassy, petty, bitchy Eddie come out about Buck not being able to make it work to meet up with Natalia because those scenes always give me joy, and I would LOVE for literally anything to come out about the donor baby not being Buck's like I need this storyline to end in such a way that we can all just forget it happened and never have to deal with it again. I would also love if L appearance gets cut down to absolutely nothing. Like, a nod across the accident scene where SHE is the blurry background figure for once and then she also disappears never to be heard from or about ever again.

I didn't watch the sneak peeks but I saw some stills and memes about the Madney ones so at least I'm looking forward to that stuff and the calls look like they *could* be interesting but also like they could just be used to push more of Buck's stupid plot with Natalia so we'll see I guess. I'm disappointed with the news that as of yet, KR is still supposed to be moving with the show but they've got time to hammer out the details. I'm sure it will be like RNM did where it's "oh I left for such and such other, better, opportunity" which is fine I don't even care how they spin it as long as she leaves but if she's still around for s7....eh. I'm too tired to try and cross that bridge just yet.

Good luck to us tomorrow, and next week and then maybe I can breathe and work on my fic and actually get somewhere on it!

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! How are you?

Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.

Thank you <3

i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee

i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha

pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. ) 

reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!

warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,

word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )

one-shot under cut!

COMPANIONABLE SILENCE

The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.

It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.

“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.

“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.

Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.

“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”

“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.

Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.

She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.

If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.

“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.

“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.

“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.

“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin? 

“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.

Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”

“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.

“Pekka Rollins.”

“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”

The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.

Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.

“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”

“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging. 

“Kaz-”

“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.

Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.

Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.

---

It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.

It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.

The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.

She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.

The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional. 

“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.

And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel. 

“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.

Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?

But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.

She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.

“Jesper, what happened?”

Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.

How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.

“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.

Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.

“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.

“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.

“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.

“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”

“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.

“Kaz, don’t-”

“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.

“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.

Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead. 

“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.

But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.

“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.

“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.

Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.

Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.

“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.

Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.

“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”

“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.

[skzsauce01]

Harmony

Synopsis: Dogged by a shameful past, you try to fit as your new identity in a new dance program at a renowned music conservatory. The school heartthrob and world-class violinist takes interest in you, which would be fine if he wasn’t also your childhood best friend.

Warning: hysterectomy, infertility, panic, mention of murder disclaimer: fertility does NOT determine your worth as a person

Word Count: 10.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x Kim Seungmin

There he is. Of course, there he is. Where else would the handsome prodigal son of the most prominent violinist go if not the best music conservatory in the country? You watch his bleached head of hair make its way across SKZ Conservatory of Music’s courtyard as fans flock him from behind. 

As for you, you sit on a random bench by yourself, waiting to start your first day at the conservatory’s new and nameless dance program as Emily Regan, not Y/N L/N, and most definitely not the gifted Kim Seungmin’s long-lost childhood best friend.

You must have stared at him too long, for he catches you and smirks. Blushing, you quickly clear your throat and head to class. He couldn’t have recognized you, right? No, you definitely look nothing like you did when you were six. If so, then why is he following you? You speed up, and while he makes no attempt to do the same, he surely is still on your tail. You turn the last corner and he does the same. You enter a room and take a seat. He— oh, you have the same class. First year literature. Just your luck. 

He walks by where you are seated and stops. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

You wish the ground would swallow you, but at least he didn’t call you Y/N or something like that.

“R-Regan. Emily Regan,” you mutter.

“Oh, American?”

You nod, still avoiding his eye.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Emily. I’m Kim Seungmin.”

He extends a hand out to shake, and you take it hesitantly. You aren’t sure you are on first name basis yet, but Kim Seungmin does what Kim Seungmin wants, you suppose.

“Hello, Kim.”

He smiles and takes the seat next to you and you wish you could disappear. But you can’t, so you excuse yourself to use the washroom. You thought you could get another spot when you returned, only to find him reserving your spot next to him for you.

The whole class, you do your best to focus on the professor, but he makes it difficult for you. He makes no effort to hide that he’s stealing glances at you, and fear creeps up your spine. What if he connects the dots and realizes you are your father’s daughter? He’d hate you, that’s for sure. After all you’ve done to him, it’s only natural.

You shake your head and he looks at you curiously. No, the one who did all that isn’t you, but Y/N L/N. You’re Emily Regan now. You just have to make sure you keep it that way.

Still, you’re glad to be able to see him again.

You know you should not be doing this, and there is no reason for you to potentially embarrass yourself even more, but you cannot help yourself. His pieces of work are right there, and his door was propped open so that you could see the music inside. So, you let yourself in.

Being the son of a major benefactor of the school, Seungmin has his own studio on campus. Instruments of all sorts line the wall and his Stradivarius violin lays on the table beside the draft of his latest composition. No one will steal it anyway; it’s chipped and insured. 

It does, however, mean that Seungmin probably just stepped out for a bit, so you’ll have to be quick. You look at his piece and hum the notes to yourself.

A small smile forms on your lips as you read the sheet. It’s a duet, and he’s only written the second violin part for now. 

This whole thing feels familiar. Reading music with him, cheek to cheek, is something you did often. In fact, that’s exactly what you were doing that day you got that call to rush home only to find where you once lived was turned into a slaughterhouse. Your fingers curl around your cardigan as you recall that day. It was Albinoni’s Adagio. You shake your head and refocus on the notes before you, humming a little louder to drown out your thoughts. You need to finish before—

“You have perfect pitch.”

—Seungmin returns.

You shoot up straight and turn slowly around. Seungmin leans against the door with his arms crossed.

“You have perfect pitch,” he repeats, walking over to his piano. He takes the sheet and plays it on the keyboard. “You weren’t even a microtone off.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t—”

He holds up a hand to silence you. “You’re a dance major, right? Do you play anything?”

You shake your head and lie. “Not really.”

“That’s a shame. Well, it’s never too late to start.” He picks up his violin and hands it to you. “Do you want to hear how the piece actually sounds?”

Your eyes widen at the familiar instrument and you visibly flinch backwards to which he raises a brow.

“Emily? Something wrong?”

“No, er, I, uh…” What should you say? “I’m alright. Thank you, and sorry for intruding. I need to use the washroom now.”

“Hold up,” he calls, effectively making you freeze in your step. “You don’t think you can just walk in here and leave unscathed, do you?”

“W-what do you mean?” you laugh nervously.

“You’ve got to pay the admissions fee,” he replies. “If you don’t play the violin, then here.” He hands you his music. “Compose the first violin.”

“What? I don’t even play!”

“You can try, or I can call security. You might even get suspended,” he smirks.

You open and close your mouth soundlessly. If you fail here as Emily Regan the dance major, then what will become of you? You have no choice but to concede and take the paper from his hands.

“Great. It’s only thirty-two bars, so bring it by tomorrow!”

“But I—!”

He takes out his phone and begins dialing the number for security while reading out each digit.

“Fine! I’ll do it!” you relent.

He grins victoriously. “Great!”

You frown at your new project. “But if I may ask, why the first violin? Don’t people usually compose both at once or the melody part first?”

“I like playing second best,” he answers casually.

This you remember from your childhood days, but that was long, long ago, and only because you always wanted to play first. His skills have improved tremendously since then. Anyone who calls Kim Seungmin a second violinist these days would surely be mocked. “Second? But you’re a renowned soloist!”

“I just haven’t found the person I want to follow yet.”

There’s a pain in his voice that makes you bite your own lip. Even if that person is still here, how can he, the prodigal son from the greatest violinist in the nation, stand next to, let alone play with again, the child of a pariah?

“I better get started on this,” you excuse yourself. You can’t bear to see the scars you left on him any longer.

Seungmin finds you the next day with your face on your desk. 

“Rough night?” he chuckles.

You pop your head off the table and swipe your hand over your mouth to rid it of any drool. At this point, you should give up ever looking good in front of the school’s heartthrob. 

“Here,” you cough, sliding over your work. “I’m forgiven with this, right?”

He hums approvingly and pulls up a keyboard on his phone. After playing it once, he shakes his head and pulls out another score and places it in front of you. 

“This won’t do. Try again.”

Your eyes widen. “But—!”

“You didn’t put yourself into this piece did you?”

How can he say that after you spent all night researching and writing drafts, trying to make something that wouldn’t disappoint the great Kim Seungmin? You open your mouth, however, no objection comes out. Something in you knows he’s right.

“Take your time with this next one. Just bring it to my studio when you’re ready, okay?”

You give a small nod and look at the paper on your desk with dread.

“But you did work hard on this,” he continues, “so here. A reward.” He slides a cup of coffee to you.  “Tell me what you like and I’ll get that next time.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to,” you say, a little surprised by the gesture. “This time or the next.”

“Oh, come on. A little boost is nice after a rough night, isn’t it? How many hours did you even sleep?”

Good question. You’re curious yourself. You went to bed at four and were awakened at seven by your bladder, so one, two, “Three.”

He looks at you weirdly.

“What?” you defend. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“You’re not from America, are you?”

That came out of the left field. “What?”

“Americans count like this.” He raises his index finger then his middle and then his ring, counting a number with each digit. “But you went like this.” He holds up five fingers and progressively puts one down, starting from his thumb.

“I must have gotten used to it here already,” you laugh sheepishly. “Oh look, the professor!”

You feel his stare, but thankfully, he does not say anything else after the instructor greets the class.

The next attempt takes you eight days. You wouldn’t mind a little longer to work out the finer details, but seeing him in class pressures you to just turn it in.

You hold your breath as he scans over your new attempt. Your nervousness does not last long though as he does not even bother playing it and instead drops it right into the bin. He takes out yet another copy and slams it on the table in front of you.

“I really am trying my be—”

“That’s not what I’m looking for,” he cuts sternly. “Remember what I said. I want you in this piece. Not your best— you.”

“I—”

“No. Look here. Look at me. Focus.”

You gulp and do as told. His lips are pursed and his eyes intense.

“What do you feel?” His question sounds more like a statement.

“Happy?” you try.

He scowls.

“Sad?”

“No, you don’t,” he says. “Look at me. What do you feel?”

You rack your head for emotional words. What answer could he possibly be looking for? “Attraction?”

Seungmin breaks his seriousness and laughs loudly. “Attraction?”

“I mean, you have all those fans and the looks, wealth, and talent,” you try to explain, “so I thought you were looking for that.”

He pokes your forehead. “This isn’t about me or what I’m looking for. It hasn’t been since I gave you this piece. Think about it honestly. What does Emily Regan feel?”

Emily Regan? “Frustrated.”

Another shake of his head. “Deeper. Think. What do you feel?”

You bite your lip and flick your eyes to meet his. What do you feel? What do you feel, posing as a dancer here at SKZ Conservatory in front of Kim Seungmin?

“... shame.”

He smiles bittersweetly and hands you a pen. “Write,” he whispers gently.

You stare at the empty bars, pen quivering slightly above the page. Finally, you draw a small oval in a line.

You write and write, humming the notes to yourself and not realizing how time has passed. When you finally finish, the sun has already gone down. You look up and see Seungmin with his elbows resting on the table across from you and his hands clasped, not having moved a centimeter for the past few hours.

When you finally put down the pen, he turns the sheet towards himself. He stares at it for a good ten minutes before standing up with it and pulling out his Stradivarius. From his phone, he first records him playing his own composition and then plays yours over it.

The whole thing could not have been more than five minutes, but to you, it feels like an eternity. 

At last he finishes the piece with an up bow and brings his arm in a circle to his side. He stares at your work for a few more silent moments before saying, “Have you published music before?”

That certainly is not the comment you were expecting. “No?”

“It’s… familiar. I don’t mean the piece, but the style, it’s…”

“Well, do I pass?” you cut in before he can think too much of it.

He sets down his instrument. “It’s a little bland, but I'll take it. Good work, Emily.”

“I’ll be taking my leave then. Goodbye, Kim.”

“Wait—” He calls after you, but you are already out the door.

You speed walk until you are in the safety of a nearby washroom. You rest your back against the stall door and let out a sigh. Does he remember the amateur pieces you made almost two decades ago? Did you accidentally just expose yourself? No, prodigy or not, there is no way he can connect you to Y/N L/N just from thirty-two bars of music. At any rate, it’s best to lay low from him for now, you decide.

Laying low does not really work when you are one of the few members of the conservatory’s budding dance ensemble though. Seungmin is hosting a charity concert and requested dancers for his show. You manage to finish your numbers for the night without complications and are now waiting in the wings for the curtains as Seungmin begins his final piece.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to enjoy his music until something about the tune strikes you. Your eyelids flutter open as a familiar melody fills the auditorium. It’s your piece! Sure, he wrote it into a solo, but the resemblance is unmistakable. 

When he finishes, he bows and makes a speech. Your classmate nudges you to snap you out of your surprise and urges you onstage for the curtain call. The whole time, you stare at Seungmin, unsure of what to make of the situation. 

At the end of his speech, he gestures for the dancers to come forward. He meets your eyes with his usual smirk and grabs your hand for the bow.

When all is done, you want to find an explanation for that last piece, but your bladder demands to be released right at that moment. You’ve been finding yourself needing to go more and more or the area starts to hurt, so you quickly relieve yourself and speed out. To your luck, it seems Seungmin took his time packing up his violin; you see his silhouette just across the field from the performance hall.

“Wait,” you call out, running after him. He doesn’t hear you until you are closer. “Wait!”

Seungmin turns around as you stop in front of him, resting your hands on your knees to catch your breath.

“Emily?”

He takes a look at your state. You’re still in your costume from having rushed out, and your sheer asymmetrical skirt is doing nothing for you against the night wind.

He shakes off his coat and wraps it around you. “Are you here because of that last bit?”

You nod and stare at him, hoping your gaze draws an explanation out of him.

“It’s a good piece. I felt the need to share it.” He fixes the collar around your neck. “I know I should have asked first. I’ll buy you food sometime to make up for it, yeah?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter that you played it; I just want to know why you did it.”

“I told you already. I like it,” he shrugs.

“You like Paganini. You like Strasate. Anything from them or even something you wrote would have made a better finish. Why this?”

“It’s a charity concert for the needy. Your piece had fitting emotions.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Is there really nothing else?

“Hold on.” He narrows his eyes back at you. “How do you know so much about composers?”

“I— It’s— This is a music conservatory! I’ve just seen their names around in murals and such!”

“Makes sense,” he nods.

“Good. Well then, have a good evening, Kim,” you bid, relieved, and begin to turn around.

“Do you want me to walk you back to the dorm? It’s quite late,” he offers.

You turn around but do not stop walking away. “I still need to change. Thank you though!”

It is only when you’re in the green room do you realize you still have his coat.

“Kim,” you call out, shuffling your feet quickly after him.

A wide grin spreads over his face as he turns around and sees your form. There’s a tuba on his shoulder. “Emily! Looking for me?”

You nod and thrust forward the bag in your hand. “Your coat. I came to return it.”

Seungmin dramatically wraps his hands around the instrument. “Oh no! My hands are full right now! Could you bring it to my studio in fifteen minutes?”

Your grip on the bag tightens in frustration, but he leans towards you, tuba looming overhead, and blinks thrice.

“Please? I’ll make it worth your effort.”

You fumble backwards, flustered, and drop your hand and the bag to your side. “Fine,” you relent. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he promises. As you walk out of the music hall, you hear a tuba playing fanfare.

Fifteen minutes later, you knock at his door which opens before you even finish your first knock. Seungmin greets you and gestures inside where a plate of mochi sits on his table with two cups of tea.

“Care to join me?” he invites.

You again hand him the bag and keep your feet planted where they are. “I think I’ll have to pass, but thank you.”

“Aw, don’t you like sweets?” He reaches for the plate and circles it around your face.

Still, you shake your head. “Again, thank you, but based on the last few times I was in here, I would rather not be.”

“I promise not to make you compose again. Just come in before the tea gets cold!”

“Why do you want me to anyway?”

“Huh?” His eyes widen at the question.

“I mean, other people have perfect pitch, yet you only sit with me to work through a composition. You sit next to me and buy me coffee and now you’re inviting me to tea. Why are you so interested in me?”

He tilts his head to the side. “‘Cause I like you, obviously.”

That sets off your alarms. Quickly, you dart your eyes around, looking to see if any of his fan girls are around to hear that and murder you. You then push him into the room and slam the door behind you.

“Excuse me, what?” you exclaim.

He sits by the food, crossing his legs. “I. Like. You.” he repeats slowly.

“B-b-b-but that’s impossible,” you sputter. “Curious? Maybe. But attracted to? No.”

He chuckles. “Why not? I mean, it did start out as curiosity, but the more I poked around, the more intrigued I became. You’re a woman full of mysteries, Emily. I like that.”

You put your hands in front of you and slowly back up. “No, no. No. No. There’s nothing to me at all. We don’t know each other very well. Of course a stranger is going to have a lot of unknowns. Once you get to know me, you’ll find that you’ve wasted your time and energy.” You like your acquaintanceship right now. Even being ignored by him is totally fine, but if he ever finds out who you are, he’ll hate you and spit on the person you’ve tried so hard to become.

“Oh really?” He stands and advances to you, making you shrink. “Then let’s put your theory to the test, shall we?” 

“What do you mean?” you gulp.

“You answer my questions and I’ll see if I still like you then.”

“Q-questions?”

“Yeah. We can go slowly if you’d like. Maybe one a day? How does that sound?” 

When you don’t respond, he begins. “Why do you seem so afraid of touching a violin?”

“I— uh…”

“Why did you lie about your home country? Why did you feel ‘shame’? Why did you sneak into my studio to look at my work yet claim to have no interest in music?”

With every question, he takes one step in your direction, finally backing you up against the wall. 

“And” —he lowers and softens his voice— “how does it feel to kiss you?”

“I’ll— I’ll—” You squirm in your shoes, head down and fists balled. The silence is deafening between your stutters, but he makes no effort to fill it, waiting patiently for your response.  “I’ll answer the last one,” you finally squeak.

“Alright then.”

You hear one of his hands pressing on the wall behind you and feel the other coming up to your jaw. He leans closer and closer and you squeeze your eyes tighter and tighter. You’re shaking so much, you can’t tell if you’re even still standing anymore.

His breath fans your lips as he suddenly chuckles and straightens up. He leaves a quick peck on your forehead and steps back.

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want to, Emily.” He has a soft smile which you stare at with surprise at the turn of events. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop annoying the daylights out of you though,” he adds cheekily.

He slides the mochi back into the box they came in and hands them to you. “Go back to your dorm. Maybe we’ll continue our interrogation next time. Oh, and there’s a closer toilet if you turn right since you seem to go all the time.”

You stand there, mochi in hand, with your jaw opening and closing without any audible sound. He laughs again and turns you around towards the door.

“Go, before I poke you with my bow.”

Mention of a violin snaps your soul back into your body. “Okay, okay. Goodbye, Kim.”

“Thanks for returning the coat,” he calls after you as you disappear into the washroom on the left.

“Remember to choose a partner for this project. Let me know if you can’t get one by next week,” your literature professor concludes and whisks out the door.

You feel the entire room turn towards your direction no thanks to the one and only Kim Seungmin sitting next to you. He himself turns toward you with a plotting grin.

“Emily.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, pain rippling through your belly as you do so. There is no point resisting, and you don’t feel up to it today anyway.

“Are you free tonight? I’ll pick you up after your practice and we can get a head start.”

That night, you already know who has just arrived when the girls come squealing into the locker room. You couldn’t care less though. You try to rub away the pain that’s nagging at your belly and fumble around for some pain killers. You allow yourself five minutes after tossing back the pills, but begrudgingly drag your feet outside so as to not keep Seungmin waiting. 

He greets you with an electrolyte drink which you take and thank him for as discreetly as possible without catching the attention of his fans. He thankfully seems to take the hint and follows you outside, only fully approaching you when the last of the girls retreats back into the changing room.

“Ready for our project?”

“You’re awfully excited for homework,” you comment.

“It’s not just any homework.” He bumps you with his shoulder. At that moment, another wave of pain grips your stomach, causing you to stop in your step and bend over.

“Did I nudge too hard?” he gasps. “I’m sorry!”

You shake your hand. “Just… premenstrual cramps. It’s a little hard to manage these days,” you squeeze out.

He walks you to a nearby bench and kneels in front of you. He opens your drink for you and wipes sweat from your forehead.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go home and rest for today?” he asks worriedly.

“I’ll be fine in a bit; I just need the medicine to kick in. Sorry for delaying us.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He takes your hand and massages the pressure point between your thumb and index finger. “Is there anything you need?”

You assure him that you’re fine and can continue with the scheduled homework session which you know he cut short with one excuse or another. You two do the bare minimum on the assignment before he “realized” he scheduled an appointment to restring his violin. After Seungmin walks you to your dorm, you quickly put on a liner and head to bed.

That night, you learn that a liner was a mistake. You wake up as you often do by a call from the bathroom. Groggily, you swing your legs off your bed and are startled by a loud ‘squish.’ Too distracted by the gnawing in your pelvis, you think nothing of it, until you open your door and the hallway lights pour into your room, illuminating your blood-covered feet. With a gasp, you quickly turn around and see the trail of red behind you. You quickly reach for your heaviest pad only to be gripped with the worst shock of pain you’ve had yet. You fall to your knees then ultimately to the floor.

Waking up on the floor makes you forget where you are, and realizing that you are laying in a pool of blood and urine does not help. It takes a moment for you to recover from the shock the state of your room gave you, but when you do, you decide to get yourself cleaned up first then deal with the room later.

Twenty minutes later, you again face the disaster that is your dorm. Thankfully, you do not have literature today, so no one— and by no one you mean Seungmin— will notice if you take a day off to take care of it.

You begin pulling off your bedsheets to wash when you hear a knock at your door. You panic and look around. It doesn’t take a genius to know your room is in no condition for a guest right now.

“Emily?”

And of course it has to be Kim Seungmin. You freeze in your spot, not knowing what to do.

“Did she leave?” you hear him ask himself. This is good. You hope he leaves.

“I guess so,” he mutters. 

You hear some plastic shuffling outside and then his retreating footsteps. You breathe a sigh of relief which you immediately regret because of the pain that comes with breathing too heavily. Your periods have never hurt this much, you note with worry.

You return to your sheets until your phone vibrates with a notification.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [10:59 AM]: Hope you’re feeling better. I left some soup and food at your door since it seems like you aren’t home.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [10:59 AM]: Call me if you need something. Or if you need a ride to the hospital.

Hospital? You rub your abdomen, wondering if the pain warrants a visit. You take some more painkillers and eat the food before finishing cleaning your room. As you leave the washing machine running downstairs, you sit at your table after another washroom stop for a quick nap. You nestle your head in your arms and close your eyes…

… and open them a few hours later, feeling like you’d rather be dead. You can barely breathe and your room spins around you. You don’t even remember to grab your keys as you stumble out the door. Hospital, hospital. No, the hospital’s too far. The conservatory’s health center will have to suffice for now, and it’s only two buildings away.

You must look really unwell, for as soon as you step into the facility, there are already three staff members rushing to your side. You aren’t sure what happens next. It looks like your arrival caused quite the commotion, but all you can hear is Mozart’s Requiem playing somewhere. The world is closing in on you, and you feel your legs give out.

“Seungminnie…”

You wake up to the humming of machines in a hospital room. You realize they transferred you when you see an old lady sleeping in the bed beside yours.

Thankfully, you feel much better now, though you suspect it has something to do with IV connected to your wrist.

Seeing that you are awake, a nurse comes in to check your vitals.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Regan?” she asks.

You nod and thank her as she replaces your IV bag.

“The doctor wants to see you in a bit for your consultation, but I need a bit of information from you first. We couldn’t find any family members attached to your name, so you’ll have to fill out some forms for yourself, alright sweetie?”

After making sure you are able to, she hands you a clipboard which you complete steadily until one section. “Emergency contact,” it reads.

Seeing your hesitation, the nurse chimes in. “It can be anyone. A friend, teacher, anyone you can trust just in case, you know?”

You smile politely. "May I leave it blank?"

The nurse looks stunned. "I suppose, but what if something happens?"

"You can call a lawyer."

She looks doubtful but stays quiet save for the few instructions she gives to reach your doctor’s office. As you walk there, you think about what just happened. Emergency contact? You'd just moved here for school. Your mother passed during childbirth, and your father— Emily Regan doesn’t have a father. There's no one you could have put down, you tell yourself. No one. Not even a certain overzealous violinist. 

You knock twice on the door you were told. 

“Miss Emily Regan?” the doctor greets as you walk in.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Nice to meet you. My name is Doctor Lee. How are you feeling right now?"

"A lot better."

"Glad to hear it. Please take a seat. Tell me, have you experienced frequent urination lately?"

You walk out of the pharmacy with a paper bag in your hands. Your heart drums in your ears but for a completely different reason this time. What will this mean for you? You’ll need to be resting for two months after the procedure, and as a dance major, this means you can’t attend class. Never mind its impact on your school year, what will this mean for your entire life? Your father has already tarnished the name Y/N L/N. You’ve tried so hard and lied so much just to make Emily Regan real. What have you made her into now? Dirty. Fiendish. Despicable. Even if you escaped being the daughter of the most hated artist who shamed his whole nation, you’ll never escape who you really are. And now this? Your hand unconsciously rises to your belly, rubbing it. It’s only further proof of what a defect you are. 

It is around four by the time you arrive back at the dorms. Thankfully, the hospital phoned your resident assistant who has your keys for you. You’re still distracted by your thoughts as you approach the building and nearly miss the man pacing up and down the front door.

Seungmin has his shoulders hunched and hands clasped together as he blows on them to keep warm, his grey cardigan not doing much against the evening chill. 

“Kim?” you call out, not believing your eyes. You are, after all, on a lot of drugs.

He immediately runs towards you when he recognizes you. You stand where you are and wait for him to come, now believe that he truly is here. Was he out here waiting for you? Your hand curls around your belly. He shouldn’t be wasting his efforts like this on someone like you. Never mind the faults of Y/N, even as Emily, you no longer deserve the love of someone like Kim Seungmin. You’d never wish for your childhood best friend to be with someone as flawed as you.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire as he stops in front of you, raising his hands as if wanting to hold you but is afraid you’d break under his touch.

“You didn’t pick up the phone…” he whispers. “You weren’t home and you didn’t pick up the phone…”

“I… had something going on.” You tuck away your prescription in your coat. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t—”

“Kim.”

“—the phone—”

“Kim Seungmin!”

His eyes look up to meet yours and you see the daze being snapped out of them.

“Huh?” 

You exhale sharply and repeat. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dorm doesn’t allow guys past twelve,” he replies matter of factly.

Your brows knit together. “You were out here for four hours?” 

He nods. “Where were you? You were sick yesterday, and now you’re off the map until four in the morning.”

You shouldn’t have snapped. You know what he means by his words, but you aren’t exactly having the best day, and Seungmin isn’t supposed to be here. You aren’t who he actually likes. You aren’t the six year old Y/N nor are you an ideal bachelorette. No, you are some imposter and you hate it. You hate it, so you state flatly, “Why does it matter to you where I was? If you’re worried about the literature project, then I’m sorry. I promise to finish it on time, but it was you who ended the homework session early yesterday, and as far as I’m concerned, we don’t have anything scheduled for today. Thank you for the meal earlier, but if stuff like that’s going to make you feel entitled to knowing about my every whereabouts, then please stop doing it.”

“That’s not what I—”

You close your eyes and let your head roll back. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, so please just leave me alone for a bit.”

You walk past him, expecting the conversation to be left at that. You hear him hesitating, which you also expect, but you are not ready for the:

“No.” 

Seungmin runs in front of you and spreads his limbs out, blocking your path. “You’re suffering. I don’t know from what, or if it’s even really period cramps, but you are. I’m not letting you do it alone.” He sucks in his cheeks as he tries to find his next words. You half expect him to take you to his studio and sit you down with a drink until you give him at least a hint of what’s happening, but he surprises you with, “I’m not saying you have to share it with me, but you need to have someone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t,” he objects. “And trust me. I’ve seen a man try and it cost him his life and his daughter.”

The familiar story makes you freeze. Despite yourself, you ask, “Who?”

“My father’s best friend. The late violinist, L/N.” 

“T-the one who turned out to be a murderer?” Why are you saying this? Just leave him and go!

Seungmin approaches you now that you’ve stopped. His presence makes your eyes water. “He only got involved with the wrong people and ruined his name because he tried to deal with the grief of losing his wife on his own. He even hid it from his own best friend, and that’s how everything tumbled out of control.”

“And his daughter?” Stop it! Y/N— no, Emily, stop it!

“No one knows, though she could be dead. My father immediately sent out searches for her, but nothing ever came up.” His voice softens almost to the point of inaudible as he talks about her. “Father hasn’t played a duet since, and neither have I.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say.

“Don’t be. You didn’t even know about it, so what could you have done?” he laughs dryly. 

The irony makes your toes curl.

“Just don’t make me watch another person go down the same path, okay?” he pleas gently.

Again, you should have done something else. You should just say, “Okay, I’ll reach out if I need it” and leave it at that. Instead, you turn to him and ask, “Can you play me ‘Méditation’?”

You watch his eyes widen at the ‘coincidence’ of your request, especially after that story. 

“‘Méditation?’” he asks.

“Yes. Massenet’s.”

He visibly takes a step back and you know why. After all, you’ve made this exact request a million times whenever you were left to sleepover at your father’s best friend’s house.

You wake up on the couch of his studio. Seungmin lays sprawled out on the floor next to you, violin on his chest and bow dangling from his thumb. You use the blanket he put over you to lift the ten million dollar instrument onto a table before he can roll over and crush it. You cradle the Strad, lifting it over its owner to the table on the other side.

“You know who composed ‘Méditation’ but you can’t touch a violin?”

The voice startles you, and you jerk backwards, stumbling back onto the couch. Once you’ve regained your balance, you glare at the man who’s still laying on the ground, moving only his eyes to look at you.

You sigh and pull the blanket over your head. “Don’t pry my secrets or I’ll have to keep avoiding you,” you warn.

“Oh!” he hums.

You pull the blanket back down and see him sitting up now with an arm propped on his knee. “What?”

“You finally admitted to hiding things,” he tells you.

“Everyone hides things.”

“But not everyone sucks at denying it.”

“Hey!”

He points at your jacket. “Your pill bottles are literally rattling with every move you make, Miss I’m-totally-fine.”

You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. “They’re— they’re—”

“Pill bottles,” he insists. He folds his hands on the couch and rests his head on them. “Your inept lying is adorable.”

You groan and toss the blanket over his head. He tries to pull it off, but you clamp your hand over his to stop him.

“I don’t want to tell you this, but you did house me for a night, so you deserve to know at least this much, I guess.” Your serious tone stops his resistance attempts. “I’m scheduled for surgery in a little over a week. I’ll be in a hotel for two weeks after the procedure with a nurse since I don’t have someone to care for me during the bed rest period. It’s a relatively safe procedure, so don’t worry.”

Seungmin flips your hand over and grabs it. The blanket slips off his head and you are left looking at his glassy eyes.

“I…” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “I won’t ask you where you’re staying if you don’t want to tell. Just promise you’ll text after the surgery. Let me know that you’re still alive at least.”

You nod. “You’ll see me working on our Powerpoint for the project at least.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

“I won’t be able to dance for a month and a half after this. My general education classes are all I’m going to be doing,” you assure him.

“If it gets too hard—”

“I know. Thank you, Kim.” 

You roll your suitcase off the bus. You aren’t sure if it is extra windy today or if it’s just your nerves, but you shiver as you stare at the hospital before you. You take a deep breath and take a step forward only to find your feet glued to the sidewalk. 

Just then, you hear a ping through your earphones. You pull out your phone and see a message.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [7:41 AM]: [get_well_soon.mp3]

You click into it and a piano and violin playing a familiar intermezzo fills your ears. You then look down at your feet and successfully lift one up and place it in front of the other until you are in front of the reception.

“Hello. I have an appointment under Emily Regan, and I'd also like to update my emergency contact information.”

After two weeks, you’re at last pushing open the door to your own dorm room.

You aren’t sure if it’s the morphine or the darkness of the room, but stepping inside after two weeks and seeing your curtains sway lightly in the evening air makes you feel emptier than you’ve ever felt before. Suddenly, your emotions overwhelm you all at once and you succumb to the floor. Your throat tightens and you wrap your arms around your abdomen, tucking your knees to your chest. You think you are crying, but you can’t be sure. The walls are closing in. You feel yourself being shackled by chains and no matter how hard you scream, no one hears you. Your voice bounces in your head like a ricocheting bullet and water is seeping in from somewhere, filling your nose and mouth, depriving you of air. All the while, your heartbeat echoes in your head.

Ba dum.

Ba dum.

Ba 

… dum.

With a strangled gasp, you manage to break one hand free for a split moment, and you immediately look for the remote that has called a nurse for the past two weeks. Of course, you are no longer at the hospital, so the only thing you grab is your phone.

“Seungminnie… Seungminnie, Seungminnie.”

You fumble with the device, but the chains are tightening around you again. Fog clouds in and you can’t see your phone anymore. You don’t even hear it hit the floor as it slips from your hand.

Ba dum. Ba dum. Ba dum.

Suddenly, you’re six again. Before you is the empty hallway of Violinist Kim’s mansion. Your plastic princess heels thunder with every step as you run down the hall.

Ba dum. “Seungminie?”

There’s no one there. Every turn you make just leads to another empty hall. The ground begins to morph, twisting and turning under your tiny feet. 

Ba dum. Ba dum.

The giant bow on your dress unravels and cinches around your ankle, and you trip and scrape your chin.

“Seungmin!”

“Emily!”

The ribbons shrivel. The chains clatter to the ground. The water drains. You gasp haggredly for air as your hands fly up to his shoulders for support. Beside you, your phone sits on the floor, his name illuminating from the screen.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” he asks, lowering his own device from his ear.

Your hands climb up to his face, cupping it. Your eyes are still glazed over. Blood drips from your lips from having been gnawed on too much.

“You’re… you’re not Seungmin.” You put your hands all over his face, feeling its features. “Or are you? No…”

“Emily—”

“Who’s Emily? You’re not Seungmin.”

“Stop biting yourself.”

“Seungmin’s not blond. Seungmin’s not—”

“Emily!”

“WHO’S EMILY?”

He freezes and looks at you. You’re drooped over at this point, defeated and tired. He then puts one hand behind you and pulls you into his arms.

“I am Seungmin,” he says gently. The vibration of his chest as he speaks lulls you. “I am Seungmin,” he repeats. “I’m right here. You’ve found me. I’m right here.”

Shakily, one of your hands reaches up and grabs his shirt while the other circles around to your lower belly.

“... Seungminnie…”

You’re in the furthest corner of the bed, staring at him. He’s just standing there, staring at you, juice in one hand and your keys in the other.

“So,” he begins. “What do you remember?”

“Nothing,” you answer truthfully. Your eyes shift to your desk where some medicine including a bottle of Kadian and a pack of birth control sit carelessly. “But I don’t suppose I had to say much for you to figure things out.” He’s going to leave you all alone now. Why is he even still here? He should realize how unsuitable you are for someone like him. There’s undeniable evidence in front of him now.

He clutches at his chest and scrunches up his face as a glaze passes over his eyes. He takes a moment before taking out one of the pills. He hands it to you with the juice, obviously having read the administration instructions.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “That and the frequent urinations. How much did they take out?”

You look away and your hand subconsciously reaches down. So he is still holding onto hope for some miracle. That’s why he hasn’t left yet. “Enough.” Now go, Seungmin.

He sits beside you, fiddling with the blankets between his fingers.

You break the silence first. “Don’t feel inclined to stay.”

“Huh?” he questions, looking up.

“I’m” —you motion downstairs— “you know. You’re here because you like me, right? Well, I can’t exactly produce an ideal family anymore. You should probably look for someone who can help you continue your and your father’s legacy.”

He looks more confused than you’ve ever seen him. “What?”

“I’m saying you should walk away now. I won’t hold it against you, so you don’t have to live with any guilt. I never considered our relationship possible anyway.”

Confusion shifts to anger. “You— You think I— I—” He struggles with his words after having been presented a scenario he’s never even considered. He exhales long and hard. “No. Just” —he grabs at an imaginary stress ball— “no. I’m not leaving, and you can’t make me. I don’t like you just because of your fertility. How could you think that? I don’t want a child. I want you. Do you understand? You! I couldn’t even sleep or drink for the past two weeks you were hospitalized, and the only time I could eat was whenever you sent a text or when I saw your little cursor on the Powerpoint. You think a surgery like that can weigh out whatever I felt that drove me to do this?”

“Still, I’m—” 

“Worthy, beautiful, and loveable,” he insists.

Those words are foreign to you. They’ve been long before you went to the hospital. How can he believe such things about you? Would he say the same things about Y/N? 

Seungmin sighs when you don’t respond and drags you closer. You don’t resist which he takes as a good sign. “So you don’t have to hide things from me anymore, okay? I’ll be here for you.”

You try to bite your lip only to find ointment there, so you play with a loose thread on your blanket instead.

“I… I’m already hiding a lot of things from you that I’m afraid to confess,” you admit. “Will that still be okay?”

You feel him nod. “Take your time. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.”

You close your eyes and bask in his warmth. Will he really be okay if he knew he has in his arms the daughter of a drug addict murderer? Will he really be okay knowing you’re his “best friend” who left him without a trace for all these years?

You hope so. 

You want to believe so.

“It’s out! It’s out! It’s out!” you exclaim. 

“It’s just one grade. Relax,” Seungmin chuckles. Still, he stops playing the piano and swings his legs over to look at your phone.

“Not all of us have an established violin career to fall back on,” you remind him while logging into your account. You cover your eyes and hold the phone away from you as the page loads. “I can’t look.”

Seungmin takes the device. “I think you should.”

“Why? Is it good or bad?”

“We got a hundred.”

“We did?” You uncover your eyes. “We did! We did!” 

In your excitement, you give him a quick hug. He puts your phone on the table and drags you onto the piano bench. “You’re not doing anything right now, right?” He puts a simple piece in front of you. “Try this.”

“Kim, I don’t play.”

“It’s simple. Look.” He squeezes in behind you and puts your hand on the keyboard. “That’s middle C.”

He presses on the key and you scoff. You lift your left hand up as well and humor him. You’re definitely a bit choppy, but you make your way through the piece slowly and surely. Seungmin wraps his arms around your belly and rests his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed, swaying slightly to the music. When you get to the end, you lift up your hands and rest them on your lap.

“You’re just cuddling, aren’t you?”

He opens his eyes and looks at you. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Your eyes shift to the music. “No, I like it.”

You feel his heartbeat accelerating at your words. “So uh, you’ve played piano before, haven’t you?”

“Uhm. I played a few different things.”

“Violin?”

“That was my focus.”

He’s not surprised. “Were you good?”

“I was better than you,” you tease.

“Oh, really?” He jumps up and puts his violin under his chin in a challenging stance. 

You put your hands defensively out with a laugh. “That was like years ago!”

He wiggles his eyebrow and starts performing up-bow ricochet and left hand pizzicato.

You roll your eyes humorously. “We get it, Mr. World-class-musician.”

He laughs too and sits back down beside you. “Speaking of which, I’m playing with the JYP Philharmonic next weekend. You’ll come, right?”

You nod. “If I can manage to walk there.”

“I need to get there early, but I’ll have my driver take you.” He smiles widely. “You have to come, you have to. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

He holds a finger to his lip cheekily. “Now it’s my turn to have a little secret.”

You fix the ribbon around your neck and smooth out your skirt as your driver comes around to open your door. You thank him and make your way into the building where Seungmin asked you to meet him. You hear him before you see him.

“Oh, she’s wonderful. She really is.”

There’s another lower voice that mumbles a reply you can’t make out. 

“Kim?” you call, approaching his waiting room.

Seungmin’s grin widens as he turns around and sees you. You, on the other hand, drop the chocolate and banana you brought for him when you see the other man in the room.

Seungmin gestures to you and looks at his companion. “Dad, this is Emily Regan, the girl I’ve been talking to you about. Emily, my father.”

Violinist Kim looks as shocked as you. “Emily… Regan?” His eyes narrow.

Seungmin furrows his brows. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

He doesn’t say anything and extends a hand out to you. “Nice to meet you, Emily Regan.”

You shake his hand uncertainly, unable to look at his unblinking eyes.

“Emily? Dad?” Seungmin looks between the two of you.

The older gentleman turns to his son. “See me for a moment.”

After Seungmin sits you on a couch, the two step out into the garden as per his request. You watch as Violinist Kim says something that makes Seungmin run a hand through his hair then stab them into his pockets as he slouches backwards. He replies with something that his father quickly rebuttals. What can they possibly be discussing? It’s clear Violinist Kim does not approve of you. Does he realize who you are? Or is Emily Regan the one he disapproves of? As a parent, it’s not uncommon to want grandchildren after all.

Suddenly, someone else bursts into the room. “Mr. Kim Seungmin, the conductor is looking for you!”

The stage worker is surprised to see only you in the room, and you inform him where the performers are. He thanks you and lets himself outside to deliver the message.

You stand as Seungmin and his father walk back in. Your friend pauses in his steps to talk to you.

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes. “This isn’t how I thought my dad would react to this. I’ll talk to you after.” He then spots your hand which has again found its way to your abdomen and frowns. “I swear that’s not something we talked about nor is it even something worth getting upset over, okay?”

You give him an assuring smile. “Break a leg.”

You watch as he hurries to catch up to the stage worker who is giving a briefing as they walk. You don’t bother to ask what is wrong. You can already tell from the cold eyes of Violinist Kim what is wrong. All you can do is wonder how much he told his son.

The concert goes well. You can tell that whatever happened with his father took a toll on Seungmin’s mentality, but his concerto was still dynamic and captivating. A few rows in front of you,  you spot Violinist Kim still nodding along to the music and supporting his son. 

After forty minutes, the house lights come back on and it is time for intermission. Seungmin is done with his concerto, so you go back backstage to see if you can catch him. You don’t have to go that far though. On your way, you hear a tree go, “Psst, Emily!”

You look and see him waving you over. He’s still calling you Emily, so that’s good, you note.

“Why are we out here?” you inquire.

He takes you a little further into the woods until he finds a boulder for you to sit on. He hoists you up so you’re comfortable.

“I thought I should clear things up before my dad talks to you,” he explains. “I’ve seen enough K-dramas to know what kind of headache misunderstandings cause.”

You nod, prompting him to go on. He does.

“You remember when I told you about Violinist L/N?” 

This sends your heart racing. Has he found out?  

“Well his daughter used to be my best friend. The thing is, my dad thinks you look a lot like her, and he thinks I’m only with you because of it.” 

Oh, it’s just that. Thank goodness. 

He grabs your hands, his eyes serious. “I just want you to know that no matter what he tells you, that’s not it. I like you for you, Emily, and nothing more and nothing less.”

You’re still convincing yourself that he isn’t aware of your past identity, and you must be making a face that he registers as doubt for he slides a hand up to your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Please believe me.”

You snap out of it. Of course you believe him, and it wouldn’t change much if he were in love with Y/N L/N anyway. However, you don’t miss the opportunity to ask, “What would you do if she is not dead? What would you do if she came back?”

“I’d celebrate her return. I’d grab lunch with her and introduce the two of you, but that’ll be the extent of it.”

“What if she’s been doing well all these years, and you were the only one left hurting and alone, wondering where she is? Could you forgive her? Could you accept someone like that, not to mention a child of a murderer, with open arms?”

Seungmin retreats his hand and frowns at you. “Why are you saying things like that? She’s my best friend!”

You grab his hand before it can go far. This time it’s your turn to stare him in the eye. “I’m not accusing her. I’m just asking if you, Kim Seungmin, would be able to forgive her in this scenario, and I’m not going to say that you’re right or wrong if you do or don’t either.”

“Then why do you ask?” His frown shifts to a perplexed one.

You let your hand drop to your side. “I… I’m in a similar situation. I don’t know if my friend will accept me if I try to reconnect.”

“Do it.” He has on a smirk now as he walks closer. “If it’s you, I’m sure she’d love to reconnect.”

You pout at his unsatisfactory response. “You’re just biased.”

Your pursed lips only makes him stare at them. “I sure am,” he mumbles. 

He again brings his hand up to your neck, index finger resting behind your ears. You can’t tell if he’s avoiding your question or just distracted, but who cares? You’re distracted now too. The woods are setting the perfect mood, and the orchestra is playing something romantic inside. Your eyelids begin to close. He looks at you one more time, his own eyes drooping.

“Is this okay…” he whispers raspily. “... Emily?”

Your eyes fly open and you shove him away a little harder than you intended to. This isn’t you. The person he wants to kiss isn’t you, and you can’t steal that away from him, even if you desperately want it yourself. You can’t have this. You can’t have him. It isn’t yours and it isn’t right.

He falls down and looks up at you, bewildered.

“I’m— I’m sorry!” you blammer. “I, uh, I have to go.”

You jump off the boulder and walk faster than you know you should post-op.

“Emily.” You hear his feet crunching leaves right behind you. “Emily. Stop. Emily. Emily. Emily.”

Why does he keep saying that name? 

You don’t turn back and you don’t slow down.

You hear him curse and speed up, which scares you, but before you can react, he sweeps you off of your feet and carries you in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Something you won’t on your own,” he replies vaguely. He storms to his green room and kicks the door open. He sets you down in the middle of it and pulls out his violin. “Play,” he commands you.

You shrink back at the sight of the instrument. It’s a glorious instrument carved from a choice tree and shaped over a careful flame by masterful hands, capable of drawing out the soul of its player. You know touching it will draw out what you’ve been working so hard on suppressing. You aren’t Y/N, daughter of Violinist L/N. You have no business with a violin. “I can’t. You know this, Kim.”

“You can’t play or you can’t admit the truth? Play, Emily.”

Wait, what?

He holds the Stradivarius in front of you. His tone is firm and his eyes are fierce, but he doesn’t hold the violin any closer than thirty centimeters away. He needs you to make this last leap.

“What do you know?” you demand.

“Play.”

“Tell me, what did your father really tell you?” you screech.

“Play.”

You begin shaking. The f holes are taunting you. You hear the screams of your father’s victims. You hear the TV reporters all cursing his name. They’re all inside there. They’re all inside, waiting for you to release them with your playing and eat you alive. “Kim, please.”

“Play.”

“No, I— I—”

“Play.”

He already knows. You’re sure he already knows, yet somehow, this still feels like a chasm far too wide for you to cross. Can you accept this violin? Can your past? Y/N is the child of a drug-addicted murderer. She’s a six year old whose own father bathed her in blood and blacklisted her existence. Can you accept Y/N L/N?

You look up at the deep brown eyes before you. You know he can.

“Seungmin…” you choke.

He lowers his voice and softens his gaze. “Play,” he tells you.

And so you do. You timorously reach for the instrument and perform Albinoni’s Adagio, the very last piece he’s heard you play. 

Tears roll down your face as your fingers fly across the board like you’ve played the piece all your life. You’re scared, you’re scared, you’re so, so scared. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been working to repress this part of you, and now that you’re facing it head-on, you don’t know what to make of it, but for once, it’s okay. Even if you fall. Even if you break apart, you finally have someone who will pick up the pieces. 

You play, and play, and play until you don’t know what to play any more, yet still you played. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you play until you can no longer lift up the scroll. You let the violin slip to your side and the bow clatter to the ground. A pair of arms wrap around you to stop you from collapsing. You close your eyes as one final tear makes its way down your face.

Seungmin presses your head into his shoulder. “I forgive you, Y/N, because I love you.”

<four years later>

You look onto the expecting crowd. Your heart’s beating quickly and the violin in your hands feels heavier than usual. Seungmin steps up next to you with his instrument. He adjusts your white skirt, his new golden band glistening under the lights as he does so.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You smile at the familiar question. “Ready,” you reply.

He smiles back and lifts his Stradivarius under his chin. You do the same and he begins to play three one-eighth C’s followed half one. You feel his music envelop you. You close your eyes, place the tip of your bow on your E-string and let “Wedding March” flow from your soul.

A sense of peace overcomes you. After learning about your father, starting your life over, and losing your fertility, peace seems almost foreign to you, yet you’ve done it. Amidst all the chaos, you’ve finally found your harmony. 

~ ad.gold

Read it from Seungmin’s perspective here.

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately���like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[yostresswritinggirl]

One of the first few girls I'll ever write in here wobdoswsn- I'm going on my base knowledge of Jean here and it's not gonna be a pretty start, mind you. I don't ship characters really but I see the dynamic in this one, honestly one of the fics that are easiest to write for me. Also I just realized how many poly asks are there aodhsosnxons—

Chivalry Isn't Dead

Poly Relationship Scenarios with You, Jean and Diluc!

Background (How It Started)

You are a knight in Ordo Favonius, the place where you met Jean and Diluc for the first time. You were there when they both started and you were also there when they ascended to be the Dandelion Knight and the Cavalry Captain.

You became close first with the captain, the first one you've met between them, because of the fact that you were under his unit. Back then he was very open and close with you, teaching you and making sure you were intact.

When Jean ascended, that's when she found out about you due to the nature of her work as one of the higher-ups. She found you so endearing with your whole-hearted desire to secure Mondstadt.

Jean knew about Diluc for a while now due to his status as one of the youngest to ascend in Captain hood and how their work was closely aligned, and they both collaborate with their silent oaths to protect you. The trio of you are VERY confused over your own feelings, wondering what exactly this entails or which one would you have to choose.

In the span of that mulling, you three had become very close due to your intervention, the glue that keeps you all together literally. You're very physical when you're dealing with people you consider very close, and the both of them always melt upon your embrace.

Between the both of them was light-hearted competition on who can make you feel safer, protect you better. And you are ever so dense over their friendly banter, and the sexual tension between them.

When Diluc left the knights, you had been under the comfort and command of Jean instead, taking your place away from the Cavalry unit to be those of the stationary knights to assist her after she became the Acting Grandmaster. You were devastated over his disappearance the most due to your closeness and Jean was the only person who could keep you sane.

The relationship starts in that period with you and Jean as the first set of couples.

When Diluc came back, his relationship with Jean became estranged and yet there was still a hint of comfort when he was under your presence. Jean was a bit devastated at their new status quo as she had come into terms of her feelings about him during his leave.

You spent most of your time then trying to get close to Diluc again and his feelings came back tenfold, making him finally confess. In front of you and Jean. the tension was thick when Jean finally caught her breath to inform Diluc of your relationship with her.

Horrified yet still adamant, Diluc stood his ground and looked at you both, millions of emotions flashing through his red irises. Jean looked at him longingly and of the old memories they shared protecting you. And you... were trying to understand why you desire them both in the same level.

Your honesty over the situation suddenly opened up the idea of polyamory and it seems that despite the tension between the two ex/knights, with you as their mediator and lover, they were willing to try or wait until you choose only one of them.

Spoilers: You chose both in the end.

How The Relationship Goes

While things go nicely between you and the other two, when it comes to them alone it was... weird. You pretty much carry the triangle here as they were both wary of displaying affection with each other, and most of it has to do with the reputation they have to uphold.

Jean protects you at day, Diluc makes sure you're safe at night. The nature of their work had you evenly split between the both of them and you three chance a fully present meet up by evening when Diluc is still on his shift and Jean has finished her work early.

Speaking of, you and Diluc fret over Jean's overworking albeit different in approach. Diluc would be brash about his opinion, calling her out while still offering materials that may help ever so subtly. While you are more adamant, sometimes dragging her off her seat and you taking over her work while she rests on the couch.

Since her work correlates with yours, you always put double the effort to help her with commissions to make sure it gets cut faster. This sometimes backfires with the both of you overworked, a disappointed Diluc pulling you both to the Winery to relax by the fireplace without the scandalous rumors sparking.

When you show physical affection Jean, she always reciprocates it the best she can, happily granting you attention and letting you cling to her during work. Your presence grounds her, relaxing her at the same time with your bouts of comfort.

When you indulge Diluc with affection, he's stoic and cross armed usually. Because of the nature of his work at the tavern, giving him some loving would need to be done while he works or not at all. The customers would find you behind the counter, clinging to his waist as Diluc serves the drinks nonchalantly, sometimes he wears glare if people were about to comment on it and that usually shuts them up.

Behind closed doors however the Ragnvindr indulges you too with his affection, still stoic but reciprocal, the rarity of it making it the more precious.

Dates RARELY happen between you three because of the fully loaded schedule all three of you have. It only ever happens when you all suddenly have free time or you cry about it.

The both of them spoil you a lot more than you'd realize. Diluc gifts you and Jean materialistically, while yours were small trinkets, Jean's are more for functionality or items that had slipped past her lips once of which Diluc remembers.

Sugar daddy Diluc for the both of you, motherly Jean in retaliation, and you're just their precious darling that will never be hurt under their supervision.

In time, Diluc and Jean would end up getting closer but still behind closed doors for safety. It was only ever you that's so shameless to pour out affection in full display and these two are too intoxicated by your love to pull you away.

During daytime on a weirdly usual occassions the people of Mond frequently spots your trio strolling hand-in-hand around the city, lively chatter about anything and everything before going back to your stuffy workspaces. Diluc would part a few feet away from the headquarters with a kiss on the head for you two. And when he turns back, you and Jean would giggle to yourselves before going to work.

Bonus: Diluc has asked for a professional painter to paint you and Jean, said canvas hanging at his office in the Winery. Jean has a Kamera photo of you three by her office too. And you have them both in a locket.

As Leverage

Your highly advantageous position to garner the heart of not only the Acting Grandmaster's but also the holder of the wine tycoon (and Darknight Hero) had made you a target for many lecherous beings.

While those with mind do not outright take you away, opting to trying to get to your good side as leverage, there are rascals like the Abyss Order who just does what they want and can.

The moment you disappear, both of them are immediately alerted due to their schedules coinciding with yours. And with your kidnapping, they too slip into the shadows, never to return for days.

It was one of the scarce moments that Diluc and Jean are in perfect sync, knowing each other's plans and next move, falling into each other's pace as they carefully concoct their plan for your retrieval.

Jean would definitely cry. As she was the one who mostly basks in your presence, there are many parts of her breakdown that comes to play: the heavy work left behind, your comforting presence that keeps her alive, and the fact that she lost you when she's supposed to keep an eye on you as per silent agreement with Diluc.

She'd cry at him, telling him she's sorry for being careless, and Diluc would comfort her in his arms without ending up as broken as her. This moment had established a bond between them that would be a solid foundation to your triangle, but also a better understanding of how important you are to them.

You disappear three days maximum with how quick and smart they are about the kidnapping.

Abyss Mages were almost forgotten with how quiet they suddenly got after that incident. That massacre.

While traumatized, you are also more than happy to see the newfound closeness between your lovers, as you melt into their tight cuddles after rescuing you.

There may or may not be talks of plans about you and Jean moving in the Winery officially.

Ugh, so cute!!! my bi ass was on full blast here-

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel

[helloalycia]

worth the wait [two] // daisy johnson

summary: same as the first chapter – it was too long to post in one so this is the remainder of it!

part one | part three | part four | part five | part six | masterlist | wattpad

"What do you think?"

I raised an eyebrow as I poked my head inside the van, glancing around at the cramped space that had stupidly been turned into a living space. There was also, weirdly enough, a computer in the corner which made absolutely no sense.

"I think I have no idea what I'm looking at," I admitted, before looking to an excited Skye beside me. "What is this?"

She bit her lip to contain her grin as she patted the van's door proudly. "This is my new rig."

I almost laughed. "You're kidding."

Her smile lessened. "I'm not."

Now I definitely laughed. "Skye, c'mon, be serious. Whose van is this?"

Her smile disappeared as she clenched her jaw with annoyance. "It's mine. Sorry it isn't fancy enough for you, your majesty."

When I realised she was serious, I lost my smile and looked between the van and her. "Skye, where the hell did you get a van? You can't even drive!"

Clearly holding in her anger, she began to push past me and slide the doors shut. "He said you wouldn't get it," she mumbled to herself, but I heard.

"He?" I questioned with raised eyebrows. "Who the hell is he?"

"Miles," she snapped, stopping moving and looking to me. "Miles is the one who got me the van. He said it was a bad idea to show you and clearly he was right, Y/N. You took one look at it and laughed. He was right."

I smiled tightly, trying not to get worked up at the mention of Skye's new friend. She'd befriended this 'Miles' guy within the past few months and wouldn't stop meeting with him and his friends. He was in the grade above us, but just like her, he'd skip class and do God knows what.

Ever since she'd been hanging around them, she'd been standoffish and distant. She wouldn't contact me as much when she ran away, and she'd been skipping school more often than usual. They were clearly a bad influence on her, but she reassured me she was in control of her own life and knew what she was doing. Being the idiot I am, I fell for her pretty smile and convincing eyes, but this was getting too far now.

"No offence, Skye, but I wouldn't start listening to a guy who can't even make it to class on time," I said to her with a hint of annoyance. "Why do you need a van anyway?"

"Why not?" she countered with her arms crossed. "I thought you'd be happy that I'm finally taking responsibility. Growing up."

My expression softened. "I've never once said that you had to do either of those things."

"You don't need to say it," she mumbled, looking down at her shoes with a frown. "I know you think it. Everyone does."

I stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder and finding her eyes with mine. "Where is this coming from? Skye, I have never thought that. All I've ever wanted for you is to be safe and happy. I'm just worried."

She shrugged me off. "Well, now you don't need to be. I've got this."

"You're seventeen, you should be in school studying, not staying in a van," I said tiredly. "You've been missing so much. How are you gonna graduate?"

She avoided my eyes. "That's another thing... I've been thinking and, well, I don't think I want that."

I widened my eyes with disbelief. "What?"

Still avoiding my eyes, she continued, "I don't think I want to graduate."

I was too surprised to find words so quickly. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"How can you not want to graduate?!" I asked suddenly, finding my words. "It's what you do! It's what we all do!"

She met my eyes with apologetic ones. "It's what you do, Y/N. I don't want to be at a place that makes me feel like shit. I can't keep pretending I fit in when I don't."

"This isn't you," I told her sternly. "We were supposed to graduate together. You're not stupid, Skye. I can help you study. You can't just give up."

"I'm not," she said with certainty. "I finally know what I'm doing. That's all."

I squeezed my fists together to contain my frustration. "And what's that?"

"The Rising Tide–"

"For fuck's sake!" I cut her off, before hitting the van door with frustration.

"Miles has taught me a lot!" she defended. "They do a lot of good, Y/N! I just want to be apart of something bigger. Something that can help me help others. And something that can help me find my family. My real family."

I clenched my jaw, knowing I was too late in convincing her otherwise. Whatever Miles and the others had told her about their stupid hacking group had worked – she was dropping out of high school and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

"You're gonna be going to university and we both know I can't afford it," she said gently. "We couldn't stay together forever, Y/N. And my foster family definitely don't care what happens to me. I don't fit in anywhere."

I looked to her with glassy eyes. "You fit in with me. You always have."

She pursed her lips as she stayed quiet.

"I'm sorry I didn't make that clear enough," I added bitterly.

"That's not it and you know it," she muttered, shaking her head. "I have to do this. I have to figure myself out. Alone."

I felt stupid for letting her do everything she did leading up to this point. If I had just tried a little harder, maybe things could have been different.

"You're not alone though, are you?" I asked rhetorically. "You've got your new pals at the Rising Tide. It's their damn fault you're doing all this."

"They're not as bad as you think!"

"You've changed because of them!" I argued back. "They created a barrier between you and I. It's because of them that you've... that you've..."

"What?" she snapped, glaring at me. "That I'm finally thinking for myself?!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and straightened up. "Forget it, just– forget it. I've got a midterm to study for."

She snickered harshly. "Of course. Don't want me slowing you down."

I stayed quiet and turned around to leave. I couldn't see past my anger as I left her with her stupid van. 

Of course, the two of us had been friends for a lot longer than that silly argument, so I was quick to realise how much I actually cared about her and her life, and wanted to apologise for how harsh and unsupportive I sounded.

The next day after school, I decided to head over to her foster family's place to hopefully talk to her. I'd had enough time to think about it and knew I was a lot more levelheaded now that I'd had some space.

I knocked on the front door and waited before an older blonde woman answered. I recognised her as Skye's foster mum, Sally.

"Hi, Mrs Collins," I greeted with a smile. "I'm looking for–”

"Mary doesn't live here anymore," Sally cut me off instantly, surprising me.

I had almost forgotten that Skye's foster family knew her as the name she was given by her orphanage – Mary Sue Poots.

"She doesn't?" I asked with confusion. "But I thought–"

"Goodbye, Miss Y/L/N," Sally interrupted, before slamming the door in my face.

I blinked with confusion before turning around and walking down the steps. It had been a while since I last visited Skye at home. In fact, she made sure I never visited her at home. I guess now I knew why. But then where the hell was she living?

As I walked around the neighbourhood trying to think about where Skye could be, I saw a familiar van parked up on the side of the street and put the pieces together.

Guiltily, I approached the van and sucked up a deep breath before knocking on the side. It didn't take long for the door to slide open and reveal Skye herself.

"Hey," I said quietly, noticing her surprised expression. "Can we talk?"

She licked her lips nervously and nodded, before moving to the side to let me in. I climbed inside and watched as she shut the door before settling on the seat in front of me. I looked around and realised the little details I hadn't noticed yesterday. The little things that made this place Skye's and nobody else's.

"I'd offer you a drink, but I don't have any," she joked to lighten the mood, and I couldn't help but crack a small smile.

I breathed out before meeting her eyes. "Skye, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have reacted like that. If I had known that this was your home, I–"

"You didn't know," she said, shaking her head with embarrassment. "I didn't want you to know. It's my fault."

I pursed my lips, watching as she looked away with pink cheeks. It hurt me to know that she was embarrassed when I didn't care about any of this, I just cared about her.

"I want you to know that I respect your decision to join the Rising Tide," I said gently, making her look up. "If it's what you want, you should go for it."

"It is," she said with certainty.

I chewed on the inside of my mouth before asking, "Is there no way you can finish high school though? Graduate with me?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to, Y/N."

"But that's the bare minimum," I pleaded. "Hacking isn't a lifestyle. You need to work, too, and I can promise you that most places won't look to hire a high school dropout."

She leaned back in her seat and shrugged nervously. "Miles isn't graduating either. And he's got some friends who haven't graduated. They're all doing fine."

I looked down and pinched the bridge of my nose to contain my frustration. I promised myself I wouldn't argue with her, but the mention of her other friends was like a trigger.

"What now?" she asked with annoyance, realising I was annoyed. "You clearly have something to say about them."

"It doesn't matter," I said, biting my tongue.

"Sure it doesn't," she played along.

"It doesn't," I agreed.

"Yeah, and the Hulk isn't bright green," she said sarcastically.

I looked up and glared at her. She stared back challengingly, practically daring me to speak. So, I did.

"Your new hacker friends are the reason you're making these choices," I told her straight. "They're the reason you're making a huge mistake. The reason you're dropping out. And for what? So you can hack like them?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know you look down on us, but we're more than that."

"Skye, I don't give a shit about them!" I shouted without meaning to. "I only care about you!"

"Then stop talking crap about my friends!" she returned angrily.

"Why do you care about them so much?!"

"They gave me a place to stay when I had nowhere! They made me feel like I belonged!"

I frowned, anger replacing with hurt. "I always offered you a place to stay. I only ever wanted you to be safe. You never needed to be different with me. You belonged. Always."

She swallowed hard and looked away from me ashamedly. "Well it doesn't matter anymore. I'm leaving."

I breathed out deeply. "School? Our town? Leaving what?"

"All of it," she said quietly. "I don't expect you to understand."

I looked down to my fumbling hands, a tear slipping from my eye. I had never felt so angry at someone before in my life. She was treating me like I was a stranger, as if I wasn't somebody who knew her inside out. She was treating me like she treated everyone else except her new friends. And I couldn't deal with it anymore.

"Fine," I said, before moving to open the door. I jumped out her van and didn't spare her a glance as I said, "Have fun with the rest of your life. Sorry I didn't care enough."

She didn't say anything and I didn't expect her to. With a broken heart and headache, I left and didn't bother turning back.

—

"What do you mean she's run away?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Mr Lock said apologetically. "Her foster family got the note this morning. They're doing what they can to find her. She always turns up, you know that."

I knew her family didn't care if she was gone or not, so I knew Skye definitely wouldn't be found. Unlike usual, Skye hadn't contacted me before leaving, so something told me she wouldn't be turning up.

Our argument was over a week ago and I hadn't seen her since. It had been eating away at me the way we'd left things, but I couldn't find it in myself to face her. I had no idea what to say anyway. And I wasn't sure when she was planning on leaving, so I didn't think it was important right now. Clearly, I was wrong.

"I just thought you should know," Mr Lock said with a nod. "The police will come by soon to get a statement from you."

As usual. Except this time, I actually had no idea where she was.

I nodded, my mouth going dry. "Thank you... can I go now?"

He nodded hesitantly. "Of course."

I left his office and headed straight outside behind the bleachers where nobody could hear or see me. The first thing I did was try to ring Skye, but there was no answer and no way to leave a voicemail. I tried several times, hoping she'd pick up, but she didn't. And that's when I remembered the burner phone.

Immediately pulling it out, I turned it on and saw the message from her appear on my screen. I was quick to open it, my heart racing like it did every time she ran away. I knew she wasn't coming back this time though.

Hey, Y/N. I know you probably hate me, but I felt like I owed you this. I said I was leaving and I have. I can't tell you where. And I'm not good at goodbyes. I've had too many of them and I couldn't bring myself to say it to you. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I never wanted to, but I guess some things are inevitable, huh? I've managed to do it all my life, this isn't any different. I'm just sorry if I hurt you in the process. Anyway, this is pretty long and I don't even know if you read it, but yeah. I'm sorry. I wish things could have been different.

The text ended there and I found myself rereading it to myself over and over, her words imprinted in my mind. I knew we'd argued and exchanged hurtful words, but I never in a million years thought she'd leave without saying goodbye. I thought I meant more to her than this. But no. I was just another foster family she ran away from. And I wasn't so sure I'd see her again.

[yikesharringrove]

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

-

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense  to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it. 

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

-

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

-

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

-

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

-

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

-

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

-

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

-

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

[babiesdreams]

Vampire Jaemin- Requested by honey <3

That smell +18 Na jaemin 

Warnings: Mentions of blood, suicidal thoughts and angsty stuff in general. [If you suffer/ are going through any of the described scenarios, pls get help. If you need to talk to someone, you can trust this blog as your safe place] Unprotected sex, overstimulation, sexy jaemin.

This decision is not something that simply came out to you like a sudden thought. You’ve been wanting this for your whole life. The simple thought of disappearing, stop the noisy daily life you were forced on living... it was the only thing that made you happy.

Thinking about the silent and peaceful life you were about to get into, it was the only thing that could calm you down. Your fingers grabbed the knife placed on table next to the bathtub. Your hand hesitated for a second, but then it held the knife tighter putting the pointy tip over your wrist, applying enough pressure to cut the flesh slowly, leaving a messy blood lake behind it. 

It hurted more than what you expected, making you scream loudly as the blood kept coming out, uncontrollably. Your hand felt weak, letting the knife drown on the full bathtub. Tears started falling down your cheeks as the blood slowly painted the clear water.

The smell of the blood was so pure, you had never smelled anything like that. A sudden noise kept you awake, even if your head felt dizzy. A pale looking boy entered the room, looking likke he’s been hiding all along. You look at him confused, not enterily sure if he was real or part of your imagination. Could a human being be so perfect?.

“What did you do?” He asks anxiously. His nose kept on making sounds as he smelled the weird bloody scent. “Who are y-?” You couldn’t really manage to finish the sentence as you lost conciousness inmediately. The boy riped his shirt, putting it over his nose, avoiding the scent. His arms grabbed your, now heavy body, looking at the cut you made on your wrist. His eyes rolled into his head at the view of that much blood. 

“Calm down Jaemin” He whispered to himself. His teeth bit your skin, letting more blood to come out of your neck. He sucked all the blood in, drinking every little drop as you weirdly became more and more conscious. “Get off” You whispered trying your best to push him away, though your weak arms could only leave slight caresses on his skin. 

He let you go after a couple of minutes, getting his shirt off his nose and putting it around your cut, trying to stop the bleeding. “Get off” You repeated with a completely exhausted voice. “Shut up” He shouted at ou while he covered your whole arm with the shirt.

--------------------------------------------------

You wake up on your bed, covered by an unfamiliar sweatshirt, feeling completely exhausted, like you never felt before. You turned your head and you saw him sitting down in a chair. 

“You fucker” You say angrily, getting up and walking towards him. He looks at you, judging your every word. “I saved your life” He says calmly. “You should thank me” 

“You ruined my chance to live in peace” You shouted at him, as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks. “You don’t get to live after that, so what’s the point anyway. You should try to change your life. Doing that doesn’t help, god” He says angrily. 

You start crying louder and messier, lying down on your bed, as you felt helpless. His words were right but damn, you hated living this way, you hated...

“Hey, hey I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so... Hey listen, I just wanted to give you another chance, to enjoy life. I couldn’t... I couldn’t just let you die like that” He says slowly, calming you down as his fingertips brush your back carefully.

“What’s your name?” You say in between cries. Your voice sounds distant as the sweatshirt, as the fabric block the sound of your crying voice. “Na Jaemin” He replies quickly. “That’s a cute name” You say still crying. The boy chuckles and caress your back lovingly. “You dummy” He says smiling.

You take your head out of the sweatshirt sleeve and look at him angrily, crying louder at his words. “No, no , okay you’re not dumb” He says panicking. You laugh at his cute reaction and hug him softly. “Why do I feel like I know you?” You whisper in his ear.

The boy looks at the wall, not giving an answer at all. Silence fills the room for a whole minute. “I... don’t know” He simply whispers. You close your eyes, letting your head rest over his shoulder as your whole body relaxes. Jaemin opens his mouth, wanting to explain you how he turned you into a vampire, and what it meant. Wanting to tell you everything you should know. But your lips are quicker.

“Jaemin” You say cutely. The boy shuts his mouth and simply hums at you. “I’m horny” You say even with a cuter tone. He chockes on his own saliva, making you laugh uncontrollably. “You what?” He shouts incredulously. You laugh out loud at his panicked self, pulling off the hug. 

“It is true tho, I’m horny” You say, keeping the cute tone on your voice. The boy’s cheeks turn red slowly, letting you giggle a little more at his shyness. “React, Na Jaemin” You say, squeezing his cheeks cutely. He grabs your wrist strongly. “Don’t do that” He grunts under his breath.

You furrow your brows, worried at his sudden serious nature. You look at your wrist, covered by a bandage. Your eyes quickly get teary, remembering that moment. “Blood’s smell... It makes me go crazy, so keep it away” You nod at his words, not really understanding them.

His mouth tho, starts getting moist due to the saliva drooling out of his red lips. He starts getting closer to you, closing his eyes when he’s almost touching your lips with his. Your eyes close as well, letting his tongue get into your mouth. 

His fingertips run through your body, making different paths along the curves, getting underneath the sweatshirt that covers your body. “Jaemin” You say breaking the kiss. He backs up and looks at you directly, as if asking “what’s wrong?” with his shiny eyes. “I feel weird” You say caressing his fingers with yours. “Isn’t this weird?” You ask him, now aware of the weirdness of the situation. 

This stranger was inside your house for some reason, he saved you and now you wanted him. You wanted him so bad. This was a new kind of neediness. There was something inside of you that you couldn’t really control. Something that wanted to get the boy so badly...

“It’s my fault” He says looking down. His black hair covers his facial features as his eyes get lost on the folds of the bedsheets. “I’m a monster, Y/n” He says in a soulless voice that really gets into your heart. “I’m a vampire, I know, that’s crazy, omg, I can’t believe vampires exist... You can skip that part. Just, look, I have known you for long enough by now, and when I saw all that blood I couldn’t think straight. The smell of blood is simply too much, it invades my mind, and I can’t control myself. I turned you into a vampire...”

“What?!” You scream, not quite understanding the situation. “I’m sorry, I wanted to save you, and it was the only way... I... God I’m sorry”  Tears starting going down his cheeks. You looked at his sad expression, wanting to be mad at him, but completely failing.

“It’s fine...God” You say lifting his face with your finger, and looking straight into his teary eyes. “So now I’m a vampire too?” You ask him confused. “Yeah... Well not yet, you’re transitioning, that’s why you feel weird....” His voice gets weaker and weaker as he speaks.

“What do you mean?” You look at him even more confused. “Well, this system was created by ancient vampires, they decided that for the sake of our species, when a vampire turns a human, they become attracted to them inmediately, so that they can have... you know.... babies” His cheeks turn into a cute shade of pink.

“God...” You say sighing, releasing your hold on his chin. “Does it go away?” You ask keeping a certain distance. “No, It never goes away, it just...gets...”

“What?!” You scream at him “It gets what?” The boy backs up slightly and looks at you with puppy eyes, keeping a pouting expression. “More intense...” His voice sounds like a mere whisper. 

“Oh my god. So I’m just supposed to be needy for you 24/7?!” You shout, getting off the bed and standing next to it. “I.. I guess” He says looking down, embarassed at the situation that he got himself into. “Fuck.. Jaemin.. Why would you ughhh”

“I’m sorry okay, I wanted, I wanted to save you...” Jaemin says looking down, again. “Um... it’s fine I guess. Just let me have a minute, I’ll take a shower..” You say getting to your bathroom.

You prepare yourself to see all the blood and remember everything that happened last night, but the bathroom is absolutely clean. Even cleaner than usually. “I cleaned it” Jaemin clears out, still lying on the bed.

“And i get all that, let me get a break, buttt” He stands up, walking closer to you. “But?” You ask before his hands surround your waist. “It gets worse every minute, every second...maybe you should let yourself go first” His low voice whispers inside your ear and you completely lose it.

You can feel how your body is desperate for his touch, but your mind keeps on telling you how weird the situation is and how you should stay away from him for the moment. “Ahh.. Let me shower” You manage to say, struggleing at every word. 

Jaemin chuckles at how cute you were when you were shy. “Don’t get too horny in there” He whispers getting his hands off your waist. Your cheeks get as red as they can possibly get. 

----------------------------------------------------

The shower helped you get away from your dirty needs at least for some seconds. But when you saw Jaemin, all those feelings came back stronger, making you stop and stare at his body, lying on the bed.

He turns, feeling your presence. “Are you ready?” He says with a seductive voice letting his head fall out of the bed. His view is completely upside down, looking at your body and expression from the posture. You blink slowly, trying to hide your inner desires, but the boy is faster.

“You are ready” He shouts, jumping off the bed, excited. He gets to your position fastly, as he’s excited to start his little game. “I can’t wait to have kids with you” He says smiling. “W-what?. We are not having kids today. Nah-huh. Not in this household” You say pushing the boy away. 

“Plus, I’m on birth control, so forget about that” You say looking away from him. His hands trap your waist, keeping you closer. “Okay, but the process is fun” He whispers, using that damn voice again, gettng you on your limit. His hands travel down your body, getting to your clothed cunt as he does.

“You look so cute when you’re shy, did you know that?” His body moves, making yours follow. “Huh?” You simply say, but you understand his words when his fingers get more aggresive. You can feel his cold fingertips moving against the fabric that covered your clit.

“Damn, I would have liked to fuck you while you were wearing my sweatshirt” He whispers, as an inner thought. His hands quickly turn your body, making you face him direcly. Your eyes study his already big smirk while his arms grab your body, putting you down in bed.

His body follows yours slowly. You can see how his mouth is drooling again, as he gets closer to your pussy. His hands remove your pants and underwear, letting his eyes get fixed on your exposed body. His tongue comes out, brushing your folds slowly, tasting the flavour of your juices.

“You are already so wet...” His tongue passes again through your folds “Fucking love it” His voice lets you know just how much he’s enjoying, making it hard to control the moans from coming out your mouth. “Fu-ck Jaemin” You moan out, unable to control yourself.

The boy rolls his eyes back, getting his tongue off your folds. His fingers though, get into you without a single warning. His lips are now pressed against your neck, licking the marks he did last night, and leaving some bruises around. Then they get to your own lips, moving into a heated kiss. 

His fingers get faster into you as the kiss gets more heated, making you feel as well just how wet you actually are. “Fuck” He says under his breath. You look into his eyes, trying to guess what was wrong.

“Your arm” He says with an even deeper voice. You gasp lightly seeing how your arm wasn’t wrapped anymore, as the bandaid got off during the messy moves. The boy breathes slowly, and you can feel how his bulge grows against your thighs. 

“It’s fine” You say blushing, your hands grab Jaemin’s face, forcing him to look at you. “Jaemin, it’s fine” You repeat calmly, making the boy calm down as well. His body stays the same, nonetheless.

He slowly gets his pants and boxers off, as you try your best to keep your arm away from him. His length quickly gets into you, stretching your walls slowly. His cute low moans mix with yours as his pace starts speeding up. 

“Fuck Jaemin” You moan loudly, making the boy smile and get faster. “Cum for me baby” His low voice says while his hand caresses your cheek softly. You put your arms around his neck, keeping him closer to you and completely forgetting about the effect your blood had on the boy.

He breathes in, slowly and starts getting even faster, hitting parts of your insides that had never been touched before. “Fuck Jaemin” You manage to say as you cum.

Your whole body shakes but the boy doesn’t seem to bother. He continues thrusting into you, getting faster with every thrust, with every second. He doesn’t even bother when he cums inside of you, as he keeps his pace.

You try to keep your arm away once you notice the cause of the mess, but it’s completely impossible as his hand strongly grabs yours still. His tongue licks your forearm clean, drinking every drop of blood coming out from it. 

“Jaemin, stop, fuck” You shout, feeling a second wave of arousal coming. The way your body shakes this time, makes something click inside his head, finally realizing what he was doing. He gets out of you, letting all the different fluids come out as well and inmediately his face turns into a concerned expression.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Are you.. are you” He starts panicking, studying every inch of your body, looking for possible damages he might have done. “That was amazing, holy shit” You let out, in between giggles.

“You’re so hot like that” You finich off, before placing a kiss onto the confused boy’s lips

--------------------------------------------------------

That was loong hahhahhahaa

Masterlist –requests open– How to request?  Check out your score.

[spitpr1ncess]

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

-

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

-

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

-

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

-

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

[kuroosmikasavolleyball]

Like A Disney Movie But Awkward

Abendrot

(n) the color of the sky when the sun is setting; a certain afterglow.

____________________________________________

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

| previous | masterlist |

____________________________________________

a/n: there have been so many delays(I’m so sorry), but this is the final part! I hope you enjoyed this series. It’s kinda wonky because it’s my first one but in the future, it’ll def get better. Let me know what pairing you want to see next!

Part 5 summary: (Y/N) can’t get the sunset or Cedric out of her head, so she asks him to go watch the sunset with her. Totally just like friends, right? After falling(literally) in love and a bit of advice from the twins, (Y/N) has everything she needs to confess. But will she? (I mean no shit it’s a happy ending)

pairing: cedric x fem!reader (in ravenclaw)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

____________________________________________

The excitement that was brought along with the weekend and the quidditch games was gone when Monday struck through. Most teachers were understanding enough on Friday to lessen the workload, but Snape still assigned a 6-inch paragraph on Golpallot’s Third Law. The twins laughed at (Y/N) when they heard what homework Snape gave since they weren’t in Potions class anymore.

Cedric announced, well actually, scratch that. Cedric told the twins and (Y/N) that he was going to enter the Triwizard Tournament; Fred and George announced it to basically the entirety of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

“Maybe I should’ve kept it a secret until I actually entered.”

Cedric whispered to (Y/N), who was currently by the pond with the three boys.

“I think I would’ve been offended if you didn’t tell me.”

“Duly noted. Now, what are we supposed to do for Charms again?”

Chuckles rose and (Y/N) leaned over to check Cedric’s textbook.

“Since it’s water we’re handling, we need to research and take notes on a way to breathe underwater.”

Fred’s head suddenly popped up from the draft advertisement for Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes(3W), “That sounds cool, no? Breathing under water. I reckon we’ll have sprouted tails and gills if I try that spell. Do tell though; how do you cast the spell?”

Cedric laughed, “It sounds like you’re going to test that spell no matter what the consequences. I think there’s one about some sort of weed you have to eat, and maybe you can do transfiguration on yourself, or..”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on doing work and lazing around. (Y/N) had an idea about seeing the sunset again now that she fell in love with it. It was addicting.

(Y/N) tiptoed behind Cedric after spotting him outside near the courtyard. She quietly reached for his arms and suddenly shook him in hopes of scaring him. It worked, sort of..he turned around and jumped simultaneously, tripping over (Y/N) and landing on the floor, grasping her to prevent too much damage.

They both groaned as the pain shot through their backs, Cedric quickly scrambling off of (Y/N) to avoid her seeing his blush getting crushed by him.

“Ugh..remind me to never scare you again.”

They both laid on the grass, no energy to get up from the slightly too close situation they were in.

“Anyways..are you free tonight?”

Cedric cocked his head, turning to look at (Y/N) to see her already gazing at him.

“Um..except the fact that we have classes tomorrow and should probably sleep early, yeah I’m free. What do you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to see the sunset… with me. I saw a glimpse yesterday during the game and I think I have a good spot to see the view. You up for it?”

“..Definitely. The sunsets near the quidditch pitch are one of a kind.”

“I know right?! Bring your broomstick.”

After finishing all her work and rushing out the Ravenclaw room when Kimball told her to use protection, she bumped into George and Fred.

“Woah, where are you going so quick?”

George dramatically pretended to faint. “Are you..sneaking out? Freddie, catch me. We’ve finally turned little Ms. Follow The Rules; I couldn’t be more proud.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. “I might be..what’s it to you?”

“Ok defensive queen. We can’t find Diggory anywhere and we were about to ask you, but I think I know why he’s missing now. You guys finally confessed??”

Why is it so easy for her face to heat up?

“Oh, god no. We’re just going to see the sunset.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if we joined you both, right?” Fred snickered.

“No! ..I mean.. ugh fine, you guys win. I want to tell him...”

“Aw look, she’s in love. Don’t worry, pretty boy is hooked on you.”

“Shush..I have to go…thanks.”

She zoomed past, thankful to get away from the boys towering over her intimidatingly. After a quick stop to the quidditch locker room, she met Cedric and they snuck out of the exit near the gardens.

“Where are we going?”

“Just follow me.”

Out of instinct, (Y/N) grabbed Cedric’s hand and pulled him towards the field. She mounted her broom and told Cedric to do the same. They flew to a hilltop not too far from the quidditch stands and heard chuckles behind her when Cedric found out what she was planning.

“Here’s the lucky spot; I think it’s high enough to see the sunset clearly.”

The sky had already become a mixture of the most compassionate shades of orange and blue. Cedric produced a blanket that was magically folded in his pocket and they sat, conscious of the closeness.

“It’s so ethereal… and weirdly calming.”

Cedric wanted to say that (Y/N) is way more ethereal and calming, but he kept it to himself.

The sun touched the horizon and started sinking into a sea of warm tones. Cedric glanced towards (Y/N), seeing the beauty in front of them as a reflection in her eyes. He wanted to tell her, so badly. But the fear of messing up everything held him back until his thoughts vanished when she turned her head towards him too.

“I’m cold.” (Y/N) grumped with a slight smile.

Cedric’s arms had an irreplaceable feeling to them and (Y/N) wished time would stop. She did have feelings for him anyways…

“Hey I have to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“(Y/N)..I’ve wanted to tell you..but I don’t really know how to.”

“Can I say it first?”

“Wait what??”

“Wait, were you not going to say..oh my god did I misunderstand..shoot I- “

Frantic speeches were then cut off by a soft touch of lips. A simple warmth spread through both their bodies immediately into a rapid fire of feelings.

Cedric pulled away.

“So you were thinking the same thing as me.”

They both laughed as their cheeks heated up and they looked at the sky again. The sun has now almost completely disappeared into the dark abyss of mountains.

(Y/N) broke the silence. “You know, I thought of you during the game..and a lot of other times. *chuckles* Because the sunset kept coming up in my mind, and I remembered when you told me a word for this..view.”

“Is that why you wanted to come up here? I just thought you wanted a bigger gesture to say something..I’m just glad I had the same words in mind.”

“I like you. A lot. Sorry, I just wanted to say it.”

“I like you too. Way more than I thought earlier because I was scared, but now..yeah.”

(Y/N) grinned and a mutual understanding passed through their eyes; before wasting another second, they kissed again. Slowly and gently, as the sky turned darker.

Cedric whispered against her lips. “You’re my abendrot.”

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extra a/n: lol this was so much like a disney movie ending pls- I’m going to start writing angst,,,

[hogarthwrites]

almost

pairing: samuel drake/reader (m/f)

genre: angst, smut

warnings: graphic sex

words: 3,229

summary:

Part two of Your Type. You thought you lost Sam forever, and you were just about to get over him when he came back. Your feelings for him are stronger than ever, but he's still so emotionally closed off.

note:

This is the second part of your type! Sam and reader are older in this part. I might add a third part to it too.

Present Day

In the last letter Sam sent you while you were away, he sounded excited about finally finding his mother’s things. After that, nothing. When you went home for the summer, you couldn't find him or contact him.

The lady said he just disappeared without a warning, and she put up a few posters and even reported it to the police, but there was just no trace of Samuel Morgan anywhere in the state.

You spent a lot of nights crying, worried sick about what might've happened to him. You comforted yourself thinking he just probably left for that job he was talking about, and not that he was lying face down in a ditch.

Years went by, and before you knew it, you were frowning at your own reflection, unsure if you wanted to count the white hair suddenly popping up out of nowhere. You splashed water on your face and put your lab coat and walked back to your office.

Even though you tried your best to forget him, you still missed Sam. You'd replay that day you had a picnic with him in your mind, wishing things were that simple again. It was unfair how you’d put him on some kind of pedestal, comparing every relationship you ever had to him.

“Got a patient for you,” Chloe barged into your office. It wasn’t unusual for her to come to you after a trip, covered in wounds and bruised up, but this time she was with someone else. The last time she did this was for a man named Charlie who had broken his leg.

“Good to see you’re alive, Frazer,” you mumbled, not looking up from your papers. “Is it Charlie again?”

“You think you could stitch this up, doc?” A deeper voice said and you looked up to see a tall man grabbing at his bloody arm.

“Oh my god,” you quickly stood up and led him to the examination table. “What the hell happened?”

“He fell and scratched his arm on a weirdly sharp plank,” Chloe snickered. “I’m pretty sure he’s concussed, but I really can’t tell.”

“I’m fine , Chloe,” he insisted.

“What’s your name? How old are you?” You looked at him, his familiar brown eyes searching yours.

“It's Sam,” he gave a small smile, and your heart fell. “Been a while, huh?”

“ Sam?” You gasped. “Is that really you?”

Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. All the feelings you kept trying to bury away just came surging back. Suddenly, you were 18 again, madly in love with your best friend. You took a step closer, wondering if you should hug him. It didn’t feel real.

“Right,” Chloe looked perplexed. “I see there’s a… thing happening here, so I’m just going to get some coffee. Don’t die, Sam, we have a flight to India in a few weeks.”

He simply chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry. This is Chloe’s job.”

“Nice to see you’re still as deranged as when we were kids,” you started cleaning the cut on his arm.

“I like to think I’m still as charming as ever,” he smirked.

“Hm, at least I know you aren’t concussed,” you pressed the cotton full of hydrogen peroxide on the wound and Sam winced. “I might have to stitch this up though.”

“You’re the doctor.”

The silence was a little too awkward as you began to stitch him up. His eyes were on you, making you nervous. He was a lot taller now, tattoos decorating his arm and neck, his messy brown hair was longer and hung in soft curls behind his neck. Like you, he looked older, but he still made you feel the same way.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “This is what you’ve been up to. What are you? Some kind of kids’ doctor?” He looked at the stuffed animals on the table next to him.

“Yeah, I’m a pediatrician,” you nodded. “Chloe’s one of my closest friends and probably my oldest patient. Other than you.”

“If I’m old, you are too,” he smiled at you.

“How do you know her? I don’t think she’s ever mentioned you before.”

“We’re just business partners. I think she used to date Nathan.”

“Nathan? Where is he now?”

“Oh, he’s married. Can you believe it?”

“Well, it has been a long, long time,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, who’d have thought, huh?” Sam chuckled.

You finished off his stitches and bandaged him up. “Alright, keep this dry and bandaged for 24 hours then wash around it with clean water.” You glanced at the scar above the stitches. “I’m sure you know how this all works already.”

“I sure do,” Sam grinned.

It was quiet while you washed your hands on the sink.

“It’s funny,” Sam said and you turned to look at him. “I thought we’d be more… excited, if we saw each other again.”

“I thought you died, Sam,” you felt a lump in your throat. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry in front of him . “You stopped sending letters and you stopped phoning me. I don’t know what you expect me to feel. What happened?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Sam stepped closer and took your hand. “Please, let’s get some drinks sometime. I”ll tell you everything.”

“I don’t know,” you pulled away. “This is just too much for me.”

“Alright,” he sounded defeated. “If you ever change your mind, meet me at the bar on Main Street tonight.”

Sam’s invitation racked your mind all day as you looked after patient after patient. Of course you wanted to see him again, but he left you hanging for more than two decades, making you believe he was dead this whole time. Now he waltzed right in the door when you’ve been trying to forget him.

You sighed and opened the little chest on your desk. Who were you kidding, you still kept the stupid pendant he gave you all those years ago. It glinted in the fluorescent light, taunting you. You know you wanna see me again , his voice was in your head. Sam was in your head again.

Fuck it. You hung your lab coat up and grabbed your keys.

He sat at the bar with a beer in one hand, a book in the other. Treasure Island . Of course.

“Will you ever get tired of that book?” You nudged his leg with the tip of your heels.

“Glad you can make it, scout,” Sam smiled. Here I go again , you thought when you felt your cheeks heat up. “Beer?”

“Why not?” You shrugged and took the seat next to him.

“Rough day at work?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. My best friend who I thought was dead for twenty-something years showed up out of nowhere. And get this, he wanted me to meet him here of all places,” you knocked back your beer.

“He sounds like an asshole,” Sam chuckled.

“You have no idea.”

He sighed. “I never meant to leave you. Will you hear me out?”

You rested your cheek on your hand and gave him a look. “I drove all the way here, I don’t think I have much of a choice right now.”

Sam told you his story. Breaking into an old woman’s home, forced to go into hiding, shot and spent fifteen years in a Panamanian prison, surviving a burning pirate ship ? It almost seemed too extraordinary, and knowing Sam, you weren’t sure if there were all just pretty lies.

“How can I be sure you’re not bullshitting me right now, Samuel?”

“Would this convince you otherwise?” Sam lifted his shirt, revealing the scars left from the bullets.

“Wow,” you reached out, wanting to touch them. You looked up at Sam and he nodded. “God, I'm so sorry, Sam.”

“You could say it's a miracle I even survived that.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I guess life just wasn't done with me yet.”

There were no words left to say. You downed your beer. Somehow you’ve lost track of how many you’ve drank.

“I missed you,” Sam looked at you in a way you've never seen before.

Your hand was suddenly in his. Was he getting closer?

His lips met yours and you melted into the kiss. You've imagined this scenario for so long, it didn't feel real. Please don't wake up , you thought as you wrapped your arms around Sam’s neck. I hope this dream never ends.

It was a nice dream. You were reunited with Sam. He kissed you. All you felt was warm.

You stirred in bed, pulling the covers over your chest as a gust of wind blew into the room. Then, an arm around your waist. Who’s that?

You sat up in surprise, looking down at the hairy arm draped over your naked body on a bed you didn't recognise. Could it be? As you glanced to the other side of the bed, you knew it wasn't just a dream.

The motel room Sam was staying in looked different in the light. It was a lot smaller than you thought and you noticed his belongings piled up on the table in the corner. A bunch of books, papers, and some clothes.

Sam was gently snoring and you brushed the stray hairs from his forehead. He still looked peaceful when he slept, and it broke your heart to think of how stressed and lonely he was in prison.

“Mornin’,” he garbled.

“Good morning, Sam,” you lay back down on the pillow next to him.

He yawned and blearily looked at you. “Great view.”

“Shut up.”

You leaned over and kissed him softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Soon you were climbing on top of him, feeling him get hard under you.

“God, you’re insatiable,” you laughed.

“You’ve only got yourself to blame,” Sam gave you a shit eating grin.

Your hands were on his broad chest as he entered you. It felt as good as the first time and you hummed in delight. You moved your hips back and forth, watching as Sam screwed his eyes shut in pleasure.

His hands moved to grab at your ass, guiding the movement of your hips against his. It was slow and sweet as you took your time, enjoying the way he felt inside you.

Sam sat up to kiss you hungrily, his lips making his way down your neck to your breasts, sucking on your nipple. Your breathing became more erratic as you held his head in place, tugging at his hair. Wanting more, you moved your hips faster. He let out a moan while his face was at your neck, kissing the hot skin softly.

Sam’s hands and his mouth continued to explore your body, teetering you to the edge.

“Cum for me,” he whispered and that was enough for you. Your fingers tangled in his hair and moaned out his name as you reached your high.

He didn’t even give you time to recover when he flipped you over on the bed. He was inside you again, slamming his hips against yours, desperate for his orgasm. You took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You feel so good,” he groaned. “I missed you so much. Fuck.”

Your back arched off the bed and your fingers sunk into his hands as your own orgasm hit you again, revelling in Sam’s grunts and praises laced with lust.

He gave a few hard thrusts before his movements faltered and he pulled out just in time to cum all over your stomach. He collapsed on the bed next to you, just as out of breath, but he was smiling in contentment.

“Do you have work today?” He asked after a while.

“Yeah,” you reached for your phone on the nightstand. “In, shit, an hour.”

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “Seems like only yesterday I was reading over your history essays.”

“Where would I be without you, huh?” You rolled on top of him and kissed him. “I gotta go.”

Sam sat up in bed and smoked a cigarette as he watched you get dressed. The bed looked inviting and all you wanted to do was crawl back in and into his arms again. Maybe I'll bring an overnight bag next time , you thought. Will there even be a next time?

“That's bad for your lungs,” you plucked the cigarette from his lips and put it out on the ashtray on the nightstand.

“Don't forget. You clean around the stitches, okay?” You gently touched the bandage on his arm. “Call me or swing by the office if it comes off or anything.”

“Will do.”

About last night … You wanted to ask him more, but your alarm went off.

“I'm gonna be late,” you sighed.

You were about to stand again when Sam took your hand and pulled you in for a kiss. It started off as sweet little pecks, but as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the kiss got deeper and you couldn't help but moan into it.

“Sam, I can't,” you pulled away. “I have to get to the clinic.”

“Go, save the world, one boo boo at a time,” he smirked as he kissed your hand.

“You're insufferable,” you laughed.

“You mean irresistible.”

“You haven't changed a bit, Samuel Morgan.”

The air was cool as you held onto Sam’s waist with one arm, the other holding a picnic basket. This time, it was his idea to have a picnic at a lake just outside the city. He still drove a motorcycle, and not having ridden one in many years, you clung onto his denim jacket as if your life depended on it.

There was a picnic table and a little grill by the lakeshore and you set the table while Sam tried to figure out how to use the grill.

“Have you been here before?” You asked as you took out a bottle of champagne that Sam slipped into the basket at the last minute.

“Honestly? No,” he smiled at you. “I asked Chloe and Sully, but they didn’t know any picnic spots, so I Googled it.”

“You know how to use Google?” You snickered.

“I’m not that old.”

“Sure, Mr. Radio Tower.”

Sam was proud of the burgers he grilled and had asked you to take pictures of it with your phone so he could send it to Nathan. He was in a good mood, reminiscing about all the trouble he caused when he was younger.

The sun had started to set when you both moved to the shore, boots off, soaking your feet in the chilly water. You squatted next to Sam who was skipping rocks on the water.

“I could never figure out how to do that,” you picked up a stone and attempted to make it skip, but it made a small splash and sank into the lake.

“It’s easy,” Sam laughed. “Here,” he placed a smooth, flat stone in your hand, placing it between your thumb and forefinger. “Now it’s all in the wrist.”

He gently pulled your arm back and forth, flicking your wrist at the last minute. “You just flick it hard enough to make the stone spin.”

“Uh huh,” you nodded. “You make it look easy.”

“C’mon, just give it a try,” he let go of your arm. “Just,” he flicked his wrist. “Like that.”

“Like this?” You copied the gesture he made. The stone flew off your hand and jumped off the surface of the lake before plopping into the water.

“Hey, you did it!” Sam gave you a pat on the back.

“What do you know,” you were smiling like an idiot. “Still a great tutor after all these years.”

“What can I say?” He was still the same cocky Sam.

You leaned into him and pulled your cardigan around you tighter. There was something that’s been bugging since you were reunited and spent more time together. You felt great around him, the old emotional and intellectual connection was back and probably stronger than before. It almost felt like there was something between you and Sam, but you didn’t know if that was what he felt as well. After all, he did reject you before.

“Listen,” Sam spoke before you. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“What is it?” You didn’t know if you were nervous or excited, but you were definitely anxious.

“This job with Chloe, it might be dangerous. Usually I know what I’m getting into, but I’m not an expert on whatever she’s be researching on so I’m really just going to depend on dumb luck.”

“You made it out of prison and a booby trapped pirate cave just fine,” you tried to lighten him up.

“Asav’s a dangerous man. Even more so than Rafe.” Sam looked serious as he stared out into the horizon. “Just… I just don’t want you worrying about me.”

“After this conversation?” You shook your head. “Gee, I guess I’ll try, Samuel."

“It’s just been really good the past few weeks,” Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for everything.”

You looked up at him. “What are you trying to say, Sam?”

“Just in case I’m a goner, you know…”

“No, I don’t know,” you stood up. “Hell, I don’t even know what’s going on between us.”

“Come on, don't be so dramatic,” he stood up and tried to take your hand, but you pulled away.

“ I’m being dramatic? You’re out here telling me your last will and testament!”

“I’m just being realistic, alright?”

“No, Sam,” you picked up your boots and pulled them on. “You don’t get to do this to me. I lost you once before, I don’t wanna do that again.”

Sam put up his hands in defeat and sat down next to you and you turned away in an attempt to hide the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want to imagine a world without Sam again and you were angry that he’d just come back out of the blue, make you feel like everything was alright again, then just take it all away again.

“Just take me home,” you sniffled.

You tried not to cry into the back of Sam’s jacket as you held on to him. He seemed to drive a lot slower than before, and it was agonizing being so close to him.

As soon as he parked his bike in front of your house, you silently got off, hugging the picnic basket to your chest. Sam was anxiously tapping his finger on the grip and you stood there, unsure if you wanted to say something to him. He got off the bike and stood in front of you, twiddling his fingers.

“Thanks for today,” you said weakly.

“Yeah,” he nodded once. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah.”

He took a small step forward as if to hug you, but he held back.

Hug me, you asshole , you thought. Please .

“Alright, well, I gotta go,” Sam took a step back. “Take care, alright?”

There was a lump in your throat and your vision blurred as you blinked back tears.

“Sam,” you called, and he looked at you expectantly. What else was there to say, though?

“Yeah?”

Be careful. I love you .

“Thanks for everything.”

Sam smiled softly, taking your hand and softly squeezing it.

“See you around.”

[vaindumbass]

ice ice baby

Regulus looked at the air, and despaired. You should go to an amusement park, Sirius said. It’ll be fun, Sirius said.

Regulus didn’t think it was fun. They had protested that they were too old to go to amusement parks alone, but Sirius had said that actually, you are at the perfect age to go alone, because minors aren’t allowed to go unsupervised. Then Sirius had stuck out his tongue.

So here they were, in this way too busy, way too loud and way too hot amusement park. To top it all of, the only attraction that Regulus was really interested in had the longest queue they had ever seen.

No wonder, of course, since it was one of the most famous spots in the entire Hogwarts park, the Forbidden Forest. It was a rollercoaster where all sorts of targets, in the form of strange creatures, would pop up, which you then had to shoot or spare.

Regulus had always wanted to try it, but unfortunately many others thought the same thing. They looked at the queue one last time before deciding to at least get something that they could eat during the wait.

It was still way too hot, so they bought some ice cream in the futile hope that it might cool them off. They dragged their feet a little while walking back, but came to an abrupt stop when the attraction came into their line of view.

It was deserted. The initial line was reduced to not even a quarter of its original size. Regulus quickly looked over their shoulders to make sure nobody else had seen it, and then speed-walked forward.

As opposed to what they thought, the attraction was still open. Luck had to be on their side today. That was the last thing that went through their head before all thought became impossible. The most beautiful person they had ever seen was behind the counter.

The beautiful person in question had dark eyes deeper than Regulus had ever thought possible, warm brown skin, and hair that was an absolute mess, but the kind of mess that practically begged for someone to rake their hands through it.

This person also opened their mouth and started talking to a still-dazed Regulus. “I’m sorry, but food isn’t allowed in the Forbidden Forest.

Regulus, who would always blame the fact that their brain wasn’t properly functioning at the moment, decided that the best plan of action was to wolf the entire ice cream, cone and all, down in two bites.

The beautiful person (James, he/him, according to his badge) not only had a beautiful face and voice, but of course his laugh had to be perfect too. 

“Well,” James, said, still smiling in a gorgeous way, “that’s one way to solve that.”

Regulus, who was at the moment unable to talk due to the fact that they had just stuffed an entire ice cream cone into their mouth, nodded in the most dignified way they could.

~~~

Regulus went to visit the Forbidden Forest again. Not only because it was an amazing attraction, and because he had accidentally shot a unicorn last time and wanted to make up for it, but also a little, tiny bit because of James. 

They didn’t want to bother someone just doing their work, so this time they endured the re-formed queue without any food. Stupidly enough, Regulus was distracted and weirdly nervous enough that time flew by, even though James probably wouldn’t even remember them.

“Hi,” James said when he caught sight of them, a teasing smirk around his lips, “No ice-cream this time?”

The rollercoaster couldn’t compare to the thrill Regulus felt now.

James remembered them? After a while they managed to gather enough of their wits to form a second thought: That sounded like a challenge.

~~~

“Lily, love of my life, best girlfriend ever, most amazing flower in any garden–”

Lily rolled her eyes (lovingly). “As much as I love you singing my praises, you can cut to the chase. What is it?”

James kneeled down before where she was sitting, leaning his head on her lap and making his best doe-eyes at her. “Give me your next Forest shift?”

One of Lily’s hands came to rest in his hair. “Sure. Wanna tell me why?”

James’ eyes lit up. “I met the love of my live and they’re so–”

“You called me the love of your life only a minute ago.” Lily said, amused, one eyebrow raised.

“You are! But they are so cute and nice and funny and their smile– so I think they might just be the love of my life too, you know?”

Lily nodded. “They?”

“Oh. Yeah, they had a–” James, momentarily forgetting the word, waved a hand around before his chest.

“A badge?”

“Yeah! And they were so cute and I think I might have a chance.”

Lily scoffed, “Of course you have a chance.”

“Really?” James said, grinning up at her. “How do you know?”

“I’m your girlfriend, I know the perks of dating you the best.”

James kissed her on the nose. “I suppose that’s fair. I know all the perks of dating you too! There are seriously so many, like how amazing you are, and-”

“Thanks, love, but could you tell me why you need the Forest shift, specifically?”

James blinked. “Right. That was where I met them. They had ice-cream for the line (they’re so smart!) but it was just around the weird moment where all the queues mysteriously disappear.”

“I have a new theory about that, actually.”

“Please tell me.”

Lily bent down to press a kiss to his head, smiling softly. “Sure. After you’ve finished your tale.”

“Yes, of course. So they still had their ice-cream just before entering, so they stuffed it all in their mouth in one go.”

“So attractive.”

James sighed dreamily. “Yeah. They looked a bit like a hamster. It was cute.”

“If you say so.”

“Then, they came back a second time! I really wanted to talk to them, so I said, no ice-cream this time?”

“Smooth”

James swatted her lightly on the arm. “I wanted to start a conversation, okay? I panicked a little.”

Lily looked at him adoringly. “Well, as long as you smiled at them while doing that, you probably won them over.” Her hand left his hair and traced along his face. “You’ve got a nice smile.”

James kissed the palm of her hand. “Thank you. But you know what they said then? They said: not this time, no, but just you wait.”

“You must have smiled at them. They sound absolutely smitten.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Lily bowed a bit closer to him. “But when it works out–”

“Don’t you mean, if it works out?”

“When it works out, don’t forget to tell them about me, okay?”

“Sure!” James said, eyes sparkling, “I love to talk about you.”

~~~

Regulus was really stupid. Regulus was in line for the Forbidden Forest. Regulus was also holding two ice cream cones. These three facts might be related.

They were going to ask James out. With ice cream. It seemed a good idea three minutes ago, when they were still on the phone with Sirius, before they hung up because Sirius simply couldn’t stop chanting “do it, do it do it do it do-”

The ice cream was melting, and a little of it was on their hands, but they knew it was all worth it the moment they were in front of James.

James showed a dazzling smile and said: “A classic. What’s better than one ice cream? Two ice creams! You still aren’t allowed to eat it in the rollercoaster, though.”

A man was glaring at them behind their shoulder, but they ignored them. “I was actually not planning on it? I came here to ask if you would- If you’d like to eat it with me.”

“I’d love to! I’m not allowed to eat on the clock, though.”

Regulus tried to hide their disappointment. They hadn’t known. One of the many downsides of growing up in the wealthy Black family was that one did not know anything about working in retail. It probably hadn’t helped that he went to Sirius, another former part of the Black family, for advice. 

“But wait!” James suddenly exclaimed, taking out his phone and starting to type, “I can ask my girlfriend to take over here!”

Regulus felt as if they were punched in the gut. Was this James’ way of telling them that he wasn’t interested? He had seemed so genuine, though.

“Did something happen?” James asked, when Regulus still hadn’t said anything in response.

Regulus looked at those beautiful brown eyes, and found themselves incapable of lying. “I just- I wanted to ask you on a date, is all.”

James scrunched his face up adorably. “Yes? And I agreed?”

“You just said you have a girlfriend?”

“I do, but that wasn’t a no.”

“Oh”, Regulus said, feeling a little stupid.

“Yeah, Lily, my amazing girlfriend, will be here soon, so maybe you can wait for a bit in front of the Room of Requirement?”

Regulus, who finally started to realize that James had said yes!!! smiled brightly, and said. “See you there!”

Then they went to stand over by the lost and found section of the reception, a smile still on their face, ice cream dripping over their hands.

The smile didn’t leave their face until after their date was after, and only got bigger when they exchanged numbers, and talked about a second date.

[obxcunt]

Love bites || (6)

pairing: jj maybank x reader [eventually] || rafe cameron x reader [currently]

warnings: violence, angst, typos, cursing.

summary: it was supposed to be a good summer for you, the last one in the obx before going to college, the last one with your friends and family. Unfortunately, a sudden and mysterious death is about to completely change your life, pushing you directly into a brand new world and into a very sexy vampire’s arms.

A/N: I just finished the part 6 and decided to give it to all, happy? Not my favorite part to be honest, not very confident about this one but i hope y’all are going to enjoy it!

part five || masterlist || part seven

The sun disappeared, the darkness was now surrounding the island as you entered Kiara’s bedroom to look at yourself in the mirror: examining your outfit. The witch glanced at you from her bed, where she was sitting.

“You’re beautiful.” She complimented. “You’re okay? You seem a bit nervous, Y/N.” You sighed, glancing at the brunette’s reflection through the mirror.

“I don’t know.” You turned around. “I don’t like lying to my friends, hiding things from them.” You laughed nervously. “And tonight, i’m going to steal from them and violate their privacy.” You sighed again, moving closer to the bed through the monologue. “So much happened to me last week, it’s still hard to accept it. Waking up everyday feels strange, because nothing makes sense anymore, it feels like a constant daydream or nightmare. This isn’t supposed to be real, it can’t be real—” You whined, rubbing your face. “It is real, this is my life.” You paused, licking your lips and looking away. “I’ve been complaining a lot recently. I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, look at me.” She said and you did. “It’s understandable, you’ve been through a lot. It’s not easy at first but trust me, you’re gonna get used to it.” You nodded, crossing your arms. “And, you’re not alone!” She added with a smile. “I’m here, we are here.”

Last week has been tough, exhausting, interesting and exciting. You wanted, needed to learn more about this brand new world who intrigued and scared you at the same time. Which means you started hanging out with the Pogues: especially Kiara & JJ. You became friends with the whole crew, the brunette already having a special place in your heart after only a few days.

“Alright, Y/N!” JJ shouted from the hallway, walking towards the bedroom with determination. “The party already started, we should probably—” He paused, getting lost in your eyes as soon as he entered his friend’s bedroom. “I—” He swallowed hard, looking down at your outfit, admiring the makeup and hair on his way back to your eyes.

Kiara smirked. “Isn’t she beautiful?” She asked him, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “JJ?”

“I— Yeah.” He murmured. “Beautiful.” He confirmed, looking straight at you with adoration. Kiara chuckled lightly, bringing him back to earth. “I— We need to go.” He shook his head, looking down. “You’re ready?” You nodded. “Good, good, good.” He sighed, looking back at the brunette. “I need to talk with Kie about something. Wait for me downstairs.”

“Okay…” You said, frowning.

You were clearly confused on the way out, the blond boy looking at you as you walked to the stairs, waiting for you to be downstairs before turning back to his best friend: who couldn’t stop smiling.

“You need to stop doing this!” He whisper-yelled at the witch. “I’m serious, Kie.” He sighed, looking back at the hallway with worry. “We are friends, nothing more and—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She said innocently. “I was complimenting her, nothing else.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think she looks beautiful tonight?”

“I do! Fuck—” He said frustrated, running a hand through his messy hair. “Of fucking course. She looks beautiful all the time.” Kiara laughed at him, enjoying the sudden vulnerability. “Shut up!” It was new.

“You need to tell her the truth, JJ.” She suggested. “Come on, it’s been so long—” JJ groaned, walking out of the room. “Okay… Be careful!” Kiara yelled, rolling her eyes. “But this conversation isn’t over!”

———————————————————————

“...It’s okay.” You reassured him. “You don’t have to come with me, JJ.” You were both walking towards the mansion, passing the cars on the driveway. “It’s too dangerous for you to be here.”

He scoffed, clearly not impressed. “I’m coming.” He said, looking at the house with disgust: the music a bit audible from the outside. “I won’t come inside, obviously. I’m going to stay outside, look and listen, to make sure everything—”

“What about Ward?” You asked, stopping. He turned around to look at you, both hands hidden in his pockets as he shrugged his shoulders. “I think it’s a bit suspicious to walk around his house while everyone is inside—”

“Relax, Y/N.” He said, walking up to you. “I’m staying to make sure nothing happens to anyone, especially you.” You smirked. “If i see anything weird, or Ward’s car coming or Rafe—”

You frowned. “What about him?” You asked. “He’s not the problem, he’s not gonna do anything to me or anyone, JJ. We just have to make sure he doesn’t see me in there.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” He sighed. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I won’t touch your precious boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Be careful, don’t get caught.”

“I’ll try.” You said, turning around and walking towards the front door, the blond boy following your steps. “Or i’ll have to fuck with him again.” You teased, laughing. “I’m just ki—” You paused, glancing at him, noticing his annoyed expression. “I— Nevermind. Don’t do anything stupid, JJ.”

Finally: you entered the house discreetly. You looked for someone, a familiar face through the crowd: Rafe or Topper. After five minutes, you moved to the living room, ignoring the dancers and smokers around on the way.

“Fuck!” Rafe screamed with enthusiasm. “Hey, Y/N! Look everyone, it’s the Kook Princess!” He added with a smile.

Something’s up, you thought. You walked towards him, looking at the tall boy on the couch. Rafe was talking with some women and men: mostly strangers. You sighed, looking down at the coffee table: noticing the cocaine all over it.

“Hey, Rafe.” You said. “What’s going on here? I thought you weren’t doing or selling drugs anymore.” Everyone looked at you weirdly, the Kook boy standing up to talk. “What is—”

“Do you know where—” He wiped his nose. “Have you seen Topper?” He asked, ignoring your last sentence. “Hey, hey, hey.” He wrapped one arm around your shoulder. “Where have you been? It’s been a week!” He laughed nervously, forehead covered with sweat and pupils going crazy. “Hanging out with Pogues, huh?”

“Rafe…” You whined, not in the mood for this conversation. “I— I don’t know where Topper is.” You looked around, searching for the blond Kook through the crowd. “I’m gonna look for him.”

You moved away from him. “Wait!” He shouted, following you in the living room. “We— We need to talk about something.” He sighed, licking his lips. “I— What happened last week? Why are you doing this?”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?” He rolled his eyes. “Rafe— I need to use the bathroom, we’ll talk later.”

You left him alone: going straight to the office. You wanted to leave this party, which means you had to deal with this right now and people were too busy doing their own thing to notice anything: thankfully. You entered the room, locking the door behind you. You walked straight to the painting, moving it carefully and sighing at the sight of the box.

“Shit.” You whispered. “What’s the fucking code?” You asked yourself. “Rafe’s birthday? Sarah’s birthday? Rose—” You paused, searching for the answer. “Their mom’s birthday.” You remembered the date: after learning it from Rafe in the past. “Yes!” You shouted, opening it.

You weren't expecting this: weapons, books, money, papers and old pictures. This looked insane. You took your phone out: taking pictures of the inside, texting them to JJ. You sighed, grabbing something off the box: Ward’s journal, bingo. You opened it, going through the pages.

“What the fuck.” You murmured, noticing familiar names: such as your father, mother and JJ Maybank. “Shit, not him—” You noticed the word suspicious next to it.

You looked at the pages attentively, taking pictures and sending them to the blond vampire right away. You needed to leave: stress washing you over. You turned around, glancing at the weapons and other things inside before standing up: throwing the journal back in. You examined the photos, noticing a few familiar faces: Rafe’s grandparents, there were a part of this, obviously.

Someone knocked on the door. “Y/N?” Rafe called. “What the fuck are you doing in my dad’s office?” You groaned: someone probably saw you, after all. “Let me in!”

You turned around, closing the box and cleaning the mess before walking to the door: unlocking it. “Hey, calm down!” You said, the Kook boy pushing you while walking in. “I just— I needed some alone time.”

Rafe scoffed, frustrated. “In Ward’s office, Y/N? Really?” You hummed, closing the door and leaning against it. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting so weird lately!”

You laughed nervously. “Says the man on cocaine.” He grimaced. “I’m disappointed. I can’t leave you alone for more than two seconds—” He laughed too. “That’s not funny, Rafe!”

“You’re overreacting!” He shouted. “You’re not my mother. I take care of myself!” You snorted, rolling your eyes. “I’m not joking with you!” He yelled, the aggressive tone making you tremble. “You don’t care about anyone, but yourself.”

“Wait, what?” You asked, hurt. “I’ve always been there for you, Rafe! We’ve been friends for years! I had to take care of you so many times, without complaining or anything—”

“You don’t have time for your friends anymore, Y/N!” He cut off. “You’re too busy hanging out with Pogues!” You sighed, head falling against the wooden door. “You don’t call or text, it’s like we never existed.”

“I’m not allowed to have other friends?” You asked, raising your voice as well. “I wanted to leave the Kook life for a few days, try new things, meet new people! I needed this! They are really nice people, JJ—” He clenched his jaw at the mention of the blond vampire, grabbing yours firmly before slamming your head against the door. “Rafe, stop—” You cried, the sudden pain making you whine, both hands moving directly to his wrist. “You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t even talk about him!” He said. “I can’t believe it, you’re fucking with Maybank, a dirty Pogue.” You frowned, struggling under his grip. “I knew something was wrong at the country club the other day.” He chuckled, ignoring the fear in your eyes. “You’re such a—” He paused, getting interrupted by an object breaking the window next to the two of you, the impact and sound making him jump back.

“Fuck.” You murmured, touching your jaw. “Don’t even—“ He walked closer. “Stay away from me, Rafe!” You yelled glancing at the Kook boy, who was slowly realizing what he just did. “Leave me alone!” You added as he tried to approach you again. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N…” He said, raising his hands in panic. He never meant to hurt you, he was losing control. “Listen—” You opened the door, running away from him. “Y/N!” He called again, again and again. “Come back!”

You ran to the front door: pushing people on your way out, not caring about anything anymore: besides leaving this place. You flipped someone off as they were complaining, opening the door and going out in a rush. You wiped the tears rolling down your cheeks, sniffing and looking around: searching for JJ.

The blond boy appeared next to you. “We need to leave!” You said, sniffing again. “I— Please.” He looked angry, jaw and both fits clenched. “Ward knows something, we really need to leave.” You said, using the journal as an excuse.

“He touched you.” He murmured, glancing at the door and face. “This motherfucker touched you!” He yelled, moving towards it, getting pushed back as you stopped him. “I— I heard everything and—” He paused, huffing. “I couldn’t do anything else!”

“Wait.” You sighed. “The window, it was you? You didn’t had to—“ You paused, breathed in and out. “I’m not feeling well, can we please go home?”

“I had to do something!” He shouted, veins popping out on his neck. “I— I’m gonna kill him.” Your eyes widened. “You can’t let him—”

“He’s drunk and high!” You shouted back, increasing his anger, you shouldn’t be defending him but he’s still your best friend. “I know it’s not an excuse but—” You sniffed and looked down. “Please, take me home, JJ.” You begged, looking at him with tears in your eyes.

JJ remained silent, pulling you against his chest: both arms wrapping themselves around your waist. You started crying against his t-shirt, the sobs making him sigh.

“This— I’ll never let him touch you ever again.” He murmured against your hair, holding you tight. “Never, Y/N.”

Rafe Cameron just lost the only person he truly loved.

———————————————————————

tag-list: @prejudic3-deactivated20201112 @starkeyrafe @thestorysofargone @ifilwtmfc @callmeimpetuous @katiaw2 @your-local-candle-addict @iccyyyybitch @agirlwholovescoffee @hvrcruxes @mayybankz @magicwithaknife @obxmxybxnk @lus-shh @bibliophilewednesday @k-k0129

[oh-my-may]

Sugar, spice and everything nice ✵ Osamu Miya x reader

making christmas cookies with Osamu! ft. an Atsumu appearance at the end!

pairing: Miya Osamu x gender neutral reader

warnings: very mild swearing? (also this was not proof read so forgive any mistake you might come across)

genre: fluffy fluff

word count: 2.7k

Day 1 of my december/christmas event! I won’t be posting the works in chronological order/ the way they are on the list and rather in the order I like best. Decided to post this one first because I recently also made cookies and it really got me in the christmas mood :) Have fun!

Also sorry that this was not posted on the 1st as I was planning on, but I was really struggling with uni and time management lately, but I wrote this on one afternoon and I am kinda proud!

Your eyes slowly traced over the scenery in front of you: baking ingredients neatly plastered all over the counter, the packages even sorted from biggest to smallest, starting with the flour and ending with eggs. In front there stood a bunch of bowls, all of the same kind and just in different sizes, all of them stacked together. The work space of the kitchen had been cleaned and the light bouncing of the counter almost blinded you if you looked at it for too long. And of course, in front of all the counters, dressed in a candy cane coloured apron and messy hair stood Osamu, who was going over all the ingredients for what felt like the fifth time, making sure nothing was missing. Every now and then he looked up to give you a small smile before he returned to the task at hand.

After a few minutes you had enough and sighed dramatically, leaning over the counter as you stood opposite of him. “Samu, do you really think this is the way to do this?” The man in question looked up at you in confusion, the expression and widened eyes suddenly making him look several years younger. “Why would it not be? I’m just making sure everything is in order.” You bit your lip as a smile made its way to your lips. You finally moved and made your way around the counter, your fingers brushing along the border of the kitchen counter. “Look, I don’t know about you, but to me making Christmas cookies was always more of a messy experience, which in no way is to be seen as negative.” You slowly took his hands, which still hovered over the ingredients, and pulled him closer to you. “What I really like about you is that compared to your brother you like things neatly organized and ordered, but maybe put that aside for today, mh? For me.” He analysed your face critically for just a split second before he sighed and looked away. The way you looked up at him with your big eyes have always had a strong effect on him. “Alright”, he sighed and raised one of his hands to brush over your hair. “Then you’re the boss for today.”

You face brightened up immediately and you clapped your hands in an excited manner as you moved past him to play some festive music and he could only watch in delight, seeing as this made you so happy. He helped you put on an apron and then obliged to your commands as you researched your favourite recipes and slowly got to work.

Frankly, his preparations made the whole process a lot easier and faster in the beginning, as you just had to mix all the ingredients together. Everything was still in order and neatly organized during the first round, you had big fun rolling out the dough and deciding which shapes to cut out of the dough in front of you. You two bickered over the decisions, Osamu insisting on making the cookies look “elegant” with a bunch of fancy decorations like almonds, walnuts, even pistachios and expensive chocolate. You smiled at him as he explained his ideas but then slowly put your hands on his broad shoulders and got on your tip toes, before leaning in and cutting his words off with a soft kiss. You felt Osamu tense up and relax under your grip as his hands followed your hands from his shoulders down your extended arms to your waist, pulling you closer. But you leaned away too soon, tipping the tip of your finger against his lower lip. “You could have just told me to shut up, y’know” he mumbled and you grinned, shaking your head. “We both know that that is not the truth, ‘Samu.” Osamu looked not especially pleased as you clearly compared him to his brother, as they were both the same when it came to this. You giggled and turned away, trying to slip out of his grip. When he didn’t let you, you pouted and reached for the first thing near you – which, unfortunately, was the package of flour. You took a hand full of the white substance and threw it right at him in defence, not thinking twice. Poor Osamu got blinded by the white mist and struggled to breath for a few moments, coughing in some of the powder. “Oh my god” was the only expression the could leave your lips repeatedly as you took in the scene and watched your boyfriend struggle and dance around weirdly in an attempt to get rid of the haze in the air, waddling his arms around. You really wanted to help but all you could do was laugh more intensely with every second that passed.

Eventually, the flour disappeared and all that was left of it was a small film of it on the kitchen counter and the floor. And, of course, Osamu as well. His silver hair was now coated in white chunks of flour and you could see some smudges of it on his face and apron. He considered you throroughly for a while, his eyes scanning your figure from top to bottom, before he also grabbed the flour and you gasped, putting your hands up in defence. “WAIT! PEACE! I want peace! I’m sorry!”

Osamu stopped in his tracks, watched you for another five seconds and then sighed and slapped the flour on the counter. “Fine, then. We should continue on with the cookie baking or we won’t be finished until tomorrow morning. But this isn’t forgotten. I will take my revenge.” You nodded, trying to take his words seriously, but you couldn’t help but let a few wheezes escape your mouth in the process. “You’re right, we should continue.” You got closer to him again only hesitantly, until he took your wrist and pulled you next to him with an annoyed look, but you knew better. Just as much as you, he enjoyed these little games and playful times in your relationship and you smiled at him as you both resumed work on the cookies.

This time however, after the first trays landed in the oven, the dough preparation was messier, as you needed to focus on many things at once. Making sure you got the measurements right, cleaning up the used bowls and other materials and checking on the cookies in the oven. You got a bit more experimental with the cookies this time, adding more spices or other ingredients to create new textures for the dough. You didn’t speak much this time around, rather you enjoyed each other’s company, the festive smell lingering in the room with you and the bright melodies echoing from the walls, finding their way right into your souls. Sometimes Osamu would playfully bump into you as you were cutting out the cookies, and when you looked at him he had already gotten back to work, yet there was a mischievous smile lingering on his lips.

When you were finished cutting out the cookies, you were ready to put in the remaining trays into the oven, but Osamu halted you, putting another figure made up of dough on the tray you were holding. “What’s that?” “A cookie.” “It has a weird shape.” “It’s not finished just yet. Stop judging my work now and focus on not burning your fingers babe.” You rolled your eyes but took his comment with a smile, considering his thoughtful figure scanning the recipes after you were done with your task. There was still flour on his features, but for whatever reason it made him even more charming, as the soft yellow and red lightning from the Christmas decorations illuminated him. Some of the lights were reflected in his dark grey eyes, making it seem like there were tiny stars dancing in them. He looked up suddenly when he noticed your figure not moving, a questioning look in his eyes. But they grew a lot softer and formed into a smile when he took in your features and walked up to you, lacing both of his big hands on either side of your face, squishing the soft skin of your cheeks. “You’re so adorable, sweetheart.” He cooed and moved his nose against yours. Your breath hitched as you finally realized what he had meant. Even though it was already warm in the room, you had still managed to blush wildly at the sight of your boyfriend, your face heating up unnaturally in the process. A chaste kiss is left on the tip of your nose, before Osamu takes his hands off your face and places them on yours instead, intertwining your fingers. “Let’s wait until the last cookies are finished, yes?” He mumbles just above your ear, warm breath brushing along your hair, causing your to shiver. A consenting hum left your vocal folds as you leaned into his large figure, his heartbeat right under your ear beating at a slow and steady rhythm. Before you knew it your bodies were moving slowly, feet brushing over the tiles on the floor along to the soft beat of Cold December Night now flowing through the speakers. There was something incredibly reassuring about the weight of his head on top of yours, his cheek brushing over your hair and his hands on your waist and back trailing nonsense patterns on the fabric of your sweater and yet you felt it right through your skin. During the last chorus of the song your felt Osamus hand wander up from your waist, along your neck to your face, his fingers holding up your face to him, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip before pulling you in for a kiss, starting up slow but slowly pressing you towards the counter, your hips pushing against the edge of it. Your hearts beat sped up with every time Osamus lips captured yours, every single time a bit more passionate than the last. You tasted the sweetness of his mouth, asserting that you certainly where not the only one to try some bits of the raw dough, smiling at this realization. But then something cold and weird hit your face, something with a structure you couldn’t determine right away. Your eyes suddenly opened in shock, staring at your grinning boyfriends face through a soft haze of white. It took you a whole second to realize what had just happened “SAMU!” you screamed in horror, his unstoppable laughter ringing in your ears. You sighed in frustration and angrily moved your hands to your face to brush away the chunks of flour that surely found its place on your cheeks and even forehead. Osamu took a second to look at you, before he returned to laughing wildly. You blew away some hair that was messily hanging in your face, letting the situation wash over you and watching as your boyfriend enjoyed his victory. You couldn’t really be mad at him, you had it coming after that situation earlier today. So there was nothing left to do for you other than sit it out.

After Osamu had finally calmed down, he got closer to you again, his hand hovering over your head. “You look like a vampire, sweetheart.” You just glared at him and he chuckled, sighing. “Alright Dracula, the cookies should be done soon, come on.” He dragged you to the oven, where you prepared the different chocolates to dip in and decorate the cookies with, as well as all the sprinkles and icing. When everything was done, you hurriedly decorated all the baked goods. Trying to make special patterns on the cookies turned out to be a lot harder than you both thought and sure enough one time Osamu got distracted and upset, so he just pressed his in chocolate covered finger to your nose, but you ducked away the second he tried to lick it off. “That’s nasty, keep that kinda behaviour out of the kitchen, Miya.” “But you liked it just a few minutes ago.” He whispered sheepishly and grinned, earning an elbow hit from you. You will sure as hell not sacrifice hundreds of cookies for his horniness, that was for sure. After several such attempts and only two clap backs from your side, he finally gave up and resumed to decorating the cookies. He even got every much into it, which surprised you somehow. He kept on giggling to himself, but he wouldn’t let you see what he was doing. “Not until it’s finished and dried!” he insisted, so you went back to decorating the rest of the cookies.

When you were finished with all the cookies, the first ones you had worked on had already dried and you tried to steal looks at Osamus work. “What were you giggling about earlier, huh? What’s so funny about decorating cookies?” He looked at you almost a bit offended. “Isn’t Christmas supposed to be a holly jolly time? Am I not allowed to be happy and smile?” You sighed and playfully smacked his arm, but he turned away before you could do it a second time. “Fine, take a look. I really tried my best… With some.” He added the last part in a quieter but amused tone as you considered his cookies. You finally recognized the shapes, he had taken many of the human/ man formed cookies to decorate. Grunts escaped your lips as you looked at what could only resemble Osamus team mates, considering the colour of their clothes and hair. Everything else somehow… Didn’t look as recognizable. “What happened to their faces.” “I lived out my inner fantasy – punching a volleyball in everyone’s face. This is what I imagine it to look like.” You couldn’t hold the laughter anymore as your eyes kept on flying over the tray and got stuck on a collection of cookies that all portrayed the same person. “Is that your brother?” you laugh loudly, looking at all the cursed faces on the cookies. Osamu nodded proudly. “Looking as good as never before.”

After your laughter has faded out into a long sigh, your eyes landed on the last cookie that Osamu made, considering it carefully. “Is that-“ “That’s us, babe.” Osamu states proudly and lifts the cookie up so you can look at it better. “I hope I don’t offend you with this, but it’s just really hard capturing your real beauty on a damn cookie. You look nowhere near as bad as your dough twin-“ You cut him off with a quick kiss. “Shut up, it’s perfect. I wouldn’t have been able to do any better.” You giggle against his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss like the one before, this time you could just hope he didn’t have any ulterior motive of pressing baking ingredients in your face. But of course this time you were interrupted as well.

“Eww, don’t you two know that the kitchen is a commonly used space in this house? Would you please mind NOT spreading your hormones across every surface in this damn house?” Atsumu enters the house in that exact moment, the sight in front of him not exactly being the first thing he expected OR wanted to see. When you both turn to look at him he drops his bag, his expression changing to something between confusion and disgust. “What the hell happened with you? Are you not supposed to cover the cookies with chocolate and not other people?” When neither of you answer he just grunts and sloppily moves past you to investigate the products of your work. Osamu rolls his eyes at his twin and you grin, the anticipation building up. You could only imagine what Atsumu’s reaction to his cookie-selfs would be like, but the reality was so much better.

“YA! SAMU! What the hell is this? Ya think this is funny or what?” Atsumus angrily picks up one cookie of himself and points it at his brother like someone would with a sword, however it was not frightening at all. Osamu turns quickly to wink at you, before he answers his brother “I don’t know what your problem is, this looks better than you ever have or will.”

~ Cue them bickering and fighting in the kitchen and you kinda have to intervene before someone gets hurt because this is a KITCHEN and you don’t want to imagine what this could end like with all the knives around and such~

THE END

[yutahoes]

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Fourteen)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning:  Fluff (?), Sexual Thoughts, Shower Sex

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

14. Bungeoppang

Yuta jolted awake when he felt the side of the bed cold. Did she leave already? Is this like Paris all over again? But she was so clingy last night that she even forced him to sleep next to her on the same bed. Now, she’s already gone? That girl, really. But when he went outside, he could hear her In the kitchen. “Hey.” He greeted, seating by the counter to watch her. She smiled at him while transferring the rice on the plate.

The girl placed a plate of rice and omelet on the counter, in front of him. “Sorry. I figured I should at least cook breakfast.” She claimed then handed him a spoon. “It isn’t that good but I think it’s pretty decent.” He nodded then took a bite of the food. Omurice? “That’s the only Japanese recipe I remembered.”

He laughed at that thought. “And why are you remembering Japanese recipes now?”

“To cook for you.” She answered, leaning by the counter. “I thought you might miss home-cooked Japanese food.” Why does she keep on surprising him? “I have to go to work. Can I borrow your clothes?” he nodded, even offering to drive her to work but she declined.

Yuta was cleaning up the plates when she went outside his room in his shirt and jacket. “Isn’t it hot?” he asked, mentioning the jacket she put on. When she removed the jacket, he realized why she needed that. Now, the thought that her naked breasts is touching the fabric he once wore is not leaving his mind. How hot is that? “I can just drive you to work.” But she shook her head, saying that she doesn’t really want to bother him. “Is this the last time I’m seeing you again?”

(Y/N) giggled at that, shaking her head. “Well, Lucas is still here in Korea so I can’t stay at Jungwoo’s. Can I stay here tonight?” Yuta nodded. “I’ll just cook dinner tonight. What do you want?” He stepped closer, pulling her by the waist. “I think I know,” she mumbled that made him grin. “Then we’ll have sushi.” A confused look was all Yuta could muster. Sushi? Is she that oblivious?

--

But the possibility of her serving him sushi naked is high. He remembered reading a scene like that from the manga that their publishing house created. And it made him giddy the whole day that Doyoung is eyeing him weirdly. He honestly wished that time can get faster and he wouldn’t get stuck in these meetings. To his annoyance, Doyoung announced that he had another meeting since he didn’t attend yesterday.

He even drove fast just to get home earlier but the house was too quiet, no signs of her. Where is she? All this excitement for nothing? Is she even coming over? Or his hunches were right once again? He won’t see her again. Instead of pondering over it and obsessing over her, he decided to finish the work he left in the office.

But he is really worried about her. He should have insisted to buy her a phone. Or maybe, he should plant a microchip to track her always. No, he thought, that’s another level of obsession. He shouldn’t be like that. The doorbell disturbed his thoughts and he quickly stood up to open the door. The girl was standing there, smiling timidly and he opened the door widely for her. “You’re here. Have you eaten already?”

But the girl stopped in her tracks, slowly staring at him. “Oh yeah. I promised sushi. Sorry.” But Yuta shook his head. “I’ll cook something for you. Wait up.” And she quickly disappeared to the kitchen.

Yuta followed close by, watching her. Something is not right. “Are you okay?” he asked, sitting by the counter stool. “We can just order take-out.”

“Can we?” she asked, turning to him and Yuta nodded. “I’m really sorry.”

“What do you feel like eating?”

“Bungeoppang.” She answered quickly then stared at him when she realized what she said. “Nevermind. Let’s just order something nearby.”

But Yuta was typing things from his phone already. “Can you wait for me?” he asked that made her blink in surprise. Wait for what? He took the keys for his car and a jacket before going out of the house. Where is he going this late?

Hours dragged by and (Y/N) was already sleepy when Yuta came in the door with a plastic bag at hand. “I hope they’re still hot.” He claimed while pushing a bag full of fish-shaped buns to her.

“Where did you get this? This late?”

Yuta sat beside her on the couch. “Myeongdong.” She was surprised. Did he travel that far just to get this? “The ahjussi said that he made that extra special.” When she asked why they’re still open, he confessed that they’re not. “I have to tell him that my wife is pregnant and is craving for buns.” He said with a grin that made her chuckle. All this hassle just because she wants some bungeoppang. Yuta is really something else.

He was working on his laptop while she’s eating the red bean filled buns. Why does this food really comfort her? And why did Yuta have to bother a person just for this? “Yuta…” she called and he hummed without taking his eyes away from the laptop. “Something happened at work today.” She heard the laptop close but she focused on her buns. “My work got rejected today.” The guy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to disappoint them but Johnny said it’s still lacking. I also don’t want to waste Taeyong’s money in sponsoring me.” She admitted. “I don’t think I’m cut off for this job.”

“That’s a bummer. You’ve been doing so well.” Yuta claimed. “I remembered reading the one you made on the plane and that is pretty good. You have real talent.” He said sincerely that made her smile. Why is he so comforting? “It might not be your time yet but I know you’ll be a really great manga artist someday.” She actually never thought of being a great manga artist and she only dreamed of publishing her own manga. Who would have thought that Yuta will be the one to make her realize this impossible dream? ��If you need help with anything, just tell me. I can drive just to get you those steamed buns.”

(Y/N) giggled at that. Now, her mood is lifted. Yuta’s smile is really infectious. “Sankkyu…” She said cutely in a Japanese way that made him laugh. “Otou-chan.”

--

When (Y/N) woke up that morning, Yuta was still snuggling in bed like normal times. She remembered Yuta’s smile when she begged him to sleep next to her. She remembered him fully clothed last night but now, his shirt was already discarded. Well, the weather is kind of hot. And Yuta is kinda hot. The image of a God is still etched on Yuta. It will be a blessing to have kids with the same look as him.

The guy’s eyes opened and he smiled when he saw her watching him. “Good morning.” he greeted and she smiled. “You didn’t leave the bed, that’s a good sign.” She giggled then sat up that made him pout.

“Yuta,” she called. “Do you want to shower together?”

The guy didn’t need to be asked twice as he stood up almost immediately, following her to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth first and he marveled at how good she looked in the morning. How seductive she looked with white suds surrounding her mouth. He wanted to replace those with something white as well and wanted to replace that toothbrush in her mouth with the muscle hardening on his body now.

When she bent down to spit out the toothpaste in her mouth, her ass lightly grazed on his hardening cock that made him moan. Showering is really out of the question now. She pulled him inside the shower stall, removing his pants then her clothes. "Can I fuck you?" But she giggled. “So we are just going to shower?” he asked when she turned around that her back is facing him.

The girl giggled, “I did ask you to shower. Do you have something else in mind?” she turned on the shower that water started cascading down their bodies. Yuta smirked, the audacity of this girl to tease him. “Then let me clean you up.” He claimed as he held her closer, wrapping his hands on her waist. His hands traveled upward to her breasts, rubbing the hardened nipples using his thumb as she moaned at the sensation.

Yuta’s hands were warm compared to the cold water from the showerhead. And can she miss his hardness poking her from the back? “Do we have time to do this, Yuta?” she asked, smiling when his right hand moved down to her core. He smirked, “Time to do what? I’m just going to clean you.” He claimed, inserting his fingers inside her core. This fucker, really.

His left hand alternated in rubbing her breasts while his right hand curled inside her, earning moans from her. “You’re so wet for someone who doesn’t want to do this.” He whispered, bending her forward that her hands automatically held the tiles from the bathroom in an attempt to hold into something. His fingers were quickly replaced with his hardening cock.

(Y/N) had to bit her lip to prevent her from moaning too much. She can’t believe that it is Yuta, once again, who was giving her the sex she wanted. He thrust so hard that if not for her arms, she might hit her head on the bathroom wall. Why is Yuta this wild in the morning? Is this the sex she missed when she left that morning in Paris? She should have stayed. She came in that position, then another one in Yuta’s embrace. “Let’s not do this again.” She claimed while breathing hard, recovering from her high. The guy only had to raise an eyebrow at him. “Shower sex looks so hot in manga or in porn yet it is so slippery.”

He only laughed at that. “Well, we have a tub.” He said gesturing at the tub located next to the shower stall. “Next time.” She claimed then reached for his body wash, slathering it on her body. Yuta grinned, this is just like being married to her. If she lives here with him, will this be an everyday scenario?

Instead of eating at home, they decided to just grab breakfast on the way to work since they’re both late for work. Maybe they should refrain from having sex in the morning, they’ll have trouble at work if this continues on. “Are you coming over tonight?” he asked and she shook her head, explaining that since she needed to do her illustrations from scratch she needed to stay late. “Can you promise me that you’ll eat lunch and dinner properly?” he asked and she smiled. “No, I’ll just order food for you. What do you want?”

She giggled at that. “You are such a dad, Yuta.” She teased. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” He shook his head when she went out of the car. How can he not worry about her? When she’s this stubborn? Before he could start his car, he caught glimpse of Jaehyun’s car parking. Maybe there is a way to really take care of her.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

Chapter 13 / Chapter 15

A quick thank you to @puzziw​ for telling me about the proper tagging and for uplifting my confidence to write. Also, thank you @markresonates​ for telling me about the word count. Also to @scentedbabybreath​ for liking the story, I hope I haven’t disappointed you yet. 

Happy Holidays to everyone! 🎄