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ibis-gt · 3 years ago

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*slides you 37 pennies* how would luther handle trying to go on a public date with cam (movie, restaurant, etc.) with the whole… affection turns height to no.

had two requests for this one so here u go! luther does his best to keep it together for date night. 2750 words, warning for brief mention of violence in a movie and some hanky panky between consenting adults. not explicit, just a little spicy.

~~~

Four months into their relationship, and Luther has more of a handle on things now.

He’s got the size thing totally under control. He hardly ever shrinks just because Cam looked at him anymore. He can take a compliment like a champion. Those soft, sweet, gentle smiles that spread across Cam’s face like molasses? Barely make him lose an inch. Physical contact? He’s… still working on that one.

But at the very least they can have date nights in public now, as long as Cam behaves himself, and Cam is quite willing to behave himself. Most of the time.

It’s a snowy Saturday night in December, and they’ve got a date planned. Cam will pick Luther up at eight, they’ll go have dinner at a local sushi place, watch a late night special feature from the 80s, and then come back home for some wine and light snuggling before bed. An absolutely perfect night, if Luther can make it through enough of it full-size.

He’s still debating his outfit when a gentle knock at his front door heralds his beloved’s arrival. Five minutes early as usual.

“It’s open!” Luther calls. “C’mon in and help me choose, will you?” He’s standing in his bedroom in a pair of black slacks with the horrid green jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, staring critically at his two choices of top. A lovely turquoise turtleneck, or a stylish electric blue button-up. The floor creaks behind him as Cam ambles in. “Which one do you think is better? I guess it depends on what you’re wear - eep!”

Luther squeaks and jumps as Cam presses his lips to Luther’s neck, big warm hands sliding up his arms to rest on his bare shoulders, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

“Both look nice,” Cam murmurs in his ear. “But I think I like the blue one better.”

“C-cam,” Luther whines, his face going pink. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to get out the door.” The hands remove themselves, and Cam pulls back, chuckling.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. All that exposed real estate, you know.” He lets out a perfect wolf whistle. God damn him. Luther glares over his shoulder and folds his arms, letting annoyance take over.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you’re going to ruin it,” he pouts. “Go on, out. Wait in the living room if you’re going to be like this.” Cam puts his hands up in a placating gesture and retreats, but that damn smile doesn’t leave his face. Luther tosses his hair and huffs, secretly proud of himself. He didn’t even lose a half inch. He turns back to consider his options.

Well, if Cam is so focused on his neck tonight, that sweater might be the better option to afford him some protection. But he said he liked the button-up better… It’s lighter than the sweater so it won’t keep him as warm, but that means he can steal Cam’s big coat later on. The turtleneck would completely cover the green jumpsuit, but the blue of the button-up actually compliments it nicely. Luther nods decisively. The button-up will be perfect.

He dresses quickly, gives himself a final once-over in the mirror, unbuttons his top button, and heads out to see Cam. His boyfriend - his boyfriend! The thought still sends a thrill through him - has picked up the cat, Scrunge, and is stroking her head, making little baby noises at her. She purrs in her usual way, fast and loud, like a revving motorcycle. Cam sets her down when he sees Luther and sighs happily.

“You look fantastic,” he says.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Luther crosses the room and fondly brushes a loose strand of hair behind Cam’s ear. Cam’s in a dark grey v-neck shirt and black suit jacket, slightly tarnished silver cufflinks adorning the sleeves. He’s got his big heavy winter coat draped over one arm so he doesn’t overheat in the relative warmth of the apartment. Luther sneaks a covetous little glance at it before grabbing his own shabby coat off a hook near the door.

He bends down to give Scrunge a goodbye scritch behind the ears. “Behave yourself while I’m out,” he tells her. “No tearing around the place and knocking things over.” She meows plaintively. Luther retrieves her bag of treats and gives her two as a bribe, which she accepts happily.

“Okay,” Luther says, straightening and shrugging on his coat. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Cam says, and takes his hand.

They walk to the restaurant. No point in searching for parking, it’d take longer than just hoofing it anyway. It’s been snowing on and off throughout the week and piles of dirty slush cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, but Luther’s coat is keeping him warm enough for now. He and Cam hold hands as they walk to the restaurant, and Luther doesn’t even shrink a little bit. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks his feet might leave the ground.

The place is only a little busy, so they have a short wait before they’re shown to their table. They get their usual orders. Luther prefers simple rolls and nigiri so the taste of the fish is front and center, while Cam likes to get the complicated, loaded rolls for the variety of texture and flavor. While they wait for their food to arrive, Luther fills Cam in on Scrunge’s latest reign of terror in his apartment, and how much it’ll cost to fix the cracked frame of the painting she’d somehow managed to knock off the wall in her frenzy to catch the fabled red laser dot.

The food arrives. Cam offers Luther a taste of his rolls - he’s gotten something deep fried with cream cheese, cucumber, and crab, and another loaded high with four kinds of fish, topped with roe. Luther tries the one with all the fish, but passes on the deep fried one. He trades Cam a piece of mackerel nigiri. Then he continues on talking, telling Cam about his week, how work’s been, the new guy they hired, and the annoying new habit his coworker’s formed of singing along with the music on the jukebox, regardless of whether she knows the lyrics or not.

Luther suddenly catches the look in Cam’s eyes. There’s something… hungry in them. It’s the only way he can describe it. It’s not regular hungry, because he’s practically ignoring his food in favor of listening intently to Luther’s rambling story. He’s leaning forward, arms folded on the table in front of him, drinking in every word Luther has to say. He’s hungry for him. The realization hits Luther like a truck and he stops mid-sentence, jaw dropping, a blush starting to spread across his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, innocent as ever. How could he even know the effect he has on Luther? How could Luther ever explain?

“N-nothing, um, I… I’ve been talking a lot, why don’t you take over for a bit? What’s keeping you busy at work?” It was delightful to listen to Cam ramble on about his job. Luther barely understood a word of it, but his enthusiasm was adorable and, importantly, not about Luther. He could keep it together and breathe a bit, work on calming down the scramble of emotion in his gut.

Sure enough, he wins himself a good fifteen minutes of calm while Cam talks on about carburetors and mufflers and manifolds. He could be making it up for all Luther knows. It’s not until Cam realizes his deep fried roll has gone cold that he breaks off to eat. They finish their food, decide to pass on dessert, pay, and head for the theater.

It’s only a few blocks away, a fifteen minute walk at most. The night has gotten a little colder and darker, and now stray snowflakes drift and spin through the air, catching the streetlights and twinkling like stars. Cam has a lot of fun pretending he’s a dragon, his warm breath turning to steaming clouds in the freezing air. Luther’s shivering now, his old secondhand coat doing little to protect him from the chill. Cam notices, of course, and whips his own coat off in an instant.

“Oh, please,” Luther demurs, “You’re so chivalrous, but really, I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking like a weathervane in a hurricane, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, I’m my own space heater.” Cam arranges the coat over Luther’s shoulders neatly and slips his arm around Luther’s waist, pulling him in close. It’s so warm and so nice, and so very, very close. Luther’s shivers slacken and cease, and then one more shakes him, different from the rest.

“Oh no,” Luther whispers, “I was doing so well, please…”

Luckily, he only loses about three inches. His clothes are a little looser, and he’s engulfed a little more by Cam’s huge coat, but he’s still a perfectly normal height. He sighs in relief.

“So what’s this movie we’re seeing?” Luther asks, trying to take his mind off of things.

“Oh, so it’s this old sci fi cult classic based on a book no one’s ever read. I saw it the first time when I was like… eight? And it scarred me for life, really, and now I’m obsessed with this shit. The special effects are super gnarly, and they hold up okay, even though you can totally see the tube for the fake blood in the decapitation scene. Don’t worry too much about following the plot, it’s not really the point of the movie, but what you should know ahead of time is…”

Cam rambles on like that, filling the night with fog. Luther snuggles in closer and listens happily, totally at ease. He made it through the most important part of the night, and once they get in the theater, he can relax. It doesn’t matter if he shrinks in the theater - from what Cam’s said, the only people watching this late-night special feature will be die-hard fans who’ll be glued to the screen, and in the darkness they won’t have to worry about anyone catching sight of them.

That also means, of course, that Cam might get a little handsy once the lights dim. If he’s being honest, Luther would be disappointed if he didn’t.

They get a seat in the back row. As the previews start up, Cam reaches over and takes Luther’s chin in his hand, turning it gently so they face each other. For a moment, he just holds them there, staring into Luther’s eyes with an adoring softness that makes Luther’s heart sing. Then he leans in and kisses him, just once, softly on the mouth. Luther shivers and loses another few inches. Cam lets him go, but Luther’s not satisfied. He grabs Cam’s collar and pulls him down for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier. Cam chuckles against his mouth and nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment. Luther sits back heavily in his seat, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grips his armrests tight, trying to pay attention to the trailer for the newest slasher flick as it blares out through the theater. No dice. He’s losing height fast now, shrinking down to four feet tall, his normal clothes hanging off his frame.

They stay apart for all of a minute before Cam’s hand sneaks across the seat and slides into place on Luther’s thigh. He strokes his thumb back and forth in a slow rhythm, humming happily. Luther gasps and shrinks more, staring wide-eyed as Cam’s hand covers more and more of him, soon easily encompassing his entire thigh.

He’s maybe two feet tall now and he can’t see the screen over the seat in front of him. Cam glances down, catching the pouting, grumpy look on Luther’s face, and presses a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Here, sweetheart,” Cam murmurs, and picks Luther up with one hand. With the other, he frees him from his clothing so that he’s only clad in the jumpsuit. Cam settles Luther gently on his lap. This has fixed the problem of not being able to see the screen, but only momentarily. Luther goes bright red and dwindles down even further. By the time the previews have finished, he’s only eight inches tall.

As the opening theme blares with discordant trumpets, Cam pinches the back of Luther’s jumpsuit between thumb and forefinger and lifts him up. He dangles Luther in front of his face for a moment, expression torn between adoring and apologetic, then brings him in close for a gentle kiss. He sets Luther on his shoulder and hands him a piece of popcorn.

Luther hides his burning face behind the buttery morsel. He’d been expecting a little hanky panky, but nothing so direct. Stolen kisses, maybe a fake yawn that disguised Cam putting his arm around Luther, a little playing with his hair. Going for the thigh like that… that was entirely unexpected. He’s beginning to suspect Cam was trying to get him tiny.

The movie is just as gory and weird as promised. Luther isn’t super squeamish, but more than once he turns and ducks his face into Cam’s neck, squealing in disgust, his voice quiet enough at this size that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else. Every time, he feels Cam shake under him with silent laughter, enjoying Luther’s reactions.

The movie ends before too long, and the other theatergoers file out, chatting animatedly with one another about the flick. Cam holds his hand up to his chest, and Luther pushes himself off Cam’s shoulder, landing gracefully in his palm. Cam sets him down on the armrest while he folds up Luther’s discarded clothing and tucks it in an inner pocket of his big coat. He looks down at Luther and tilts his head to one side, lips pursed in a calculating expression.

“You’re just a little too big to hide comfortably… here, let’s fix that.” Cam puts his elbows on either side of Luther on the armrest and looms over him, completely blocking the dim theater lights overhead. Luther takes a few involuntary steps back and bumps up against Cam’s hands, linked together behind him to form a ring penning him in. “You’re all mine now,” Cam breathes, quiet as a whisper. “So tiny and cute. I’m going to put you in my pocket and carry you home, and then… well, then we’ll see what I’ll do with you, hm?” A crooked, meaningful grin spreads across Cam’s face, and that hungry look comes back into his eyes.

It works like a charm. Luther’s legs shake, his heart pounds, and he shivers. He dwindles down to half his height, a mere four inches.

“There we go,” Cam croons, and scoops him up in one hand. Cam stows him safely in his coat pocket, held in a loose fist to keep him safe from jostling and the cold. He exits the theater and moves through the crowds easily. People tend to make way when they see a man his size coming towards them.

Luther curls up against Cam’s fingers and sighs happily. Cam’s hand is warm, calloused in places but soft in others, and the pocket sways gently with his gait. It’s so safe and cozy, combined with the late hour and the exhaustion of the day, it’s the perfect recipe to knock him out. He fights the heaviness of his eyelids as long as he can, but only makes it a few blocks before he’s fast asleep.

~~~

“Whew, cold one out tonight,” Cam says as he unlocks the door to Luther’s apartment. He can already hear Scrunge wailing on the other side. “I hope you weren’t too frozen in there.” He pushes the door open and addresses the cat. “Yes, we’re home, hello darling, we missed you too.” She winds around his legs and purr-meows at top volume. “Okay, okay, other people are trying to sleep,” Cam hisses. “You’re gonna wake up the whole floor, shitty kitty.” She mrrps in disapproval.

He pulls Luther out of his pocket. “So, babe, do you wanna - oh.” The little dear is asleep, snoring softly. Cam smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, sighing as he plops himself down. Scrunge leaps up into his lap immediately and puts her front legs up on his chest, sniffing at Luther in his hand.

“Poor dear’s all tuckered out,” Cam murmurs, giving her a scritch. “Let’s let him rest.”

#asks #writing #cam and luther #gulliver's hanahaki #g/t #giant tiny #hit post before i remembered tags exist oops

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thebadbatch · 3 years ago

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Hey! Could I get a wrecker x gn reader with prompts 7 & 10 from the fluff section? Where the reader is having trouble sleeping after a mission so wrecker helps them by going on a late night adventure to cheer them up? If that makes sense? ☺️ thank you!!

A/N: I hope you enjoy this! I can definitely see this happening canon but with Omega! Wrecker is such a sweetheart i'd love to be friends with him omg…

Wrecker x Gn!Reader

Plot After another tough Mission you struggle to sleep but that is something your close friend Wrecker can help with through a little adventure.

Warnings: Difficulty to go back to sleep but very fluffy and eventually you manage to sleep!

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

Midnight Mantell

"Fall back!" Hunter's voice sliced through the already buzzing air, blaster shots lingering in the air and flying past your skin. With a deep breath you continued to fire your duo blasters, stepping backwards besides Wrecker and doing everything within your power to avoid the heated fire. You don't really remember how you all exactly got into this messy situation as everything felt like a blur. Blasting down a couple more clankers you turned and made a run for the Havoc Marauder with the rest of the batch who had continued to throw bullers behind them. "Tech, get the ship online and straight to Ord Mantell." With a quick nod, Tech ran ahead and began to power on its systems. That all too familiar hum of the attack shuttle always filled you with a feeling of safety and comfort as it always meant you were all about to leave together and safe. Turning to fire some more bullets, one of theirs shot against your cheek making you wince and throw yourself back into the ship. You were used to close calls but you swore they were getting more dangerous per mission. Sighing at the sting against your cheek, you fired a few more bullets as everybody else made it onto the Marauder safely and signalling for the ramp to be closed and to take off for our next destination. Laying on the flour completely worn out, Wrecker joined you after removing his signature helmet.

"That was definitely something new." You laughed a little and nodded whilst re-attaching your blaster back against your armour.

"Why is it always us that get sent into traps?" You asked, sighing and finally being able to capture your breath once again. The ship finally lit up with the colour of the stars in hyperspace, Ord Mantell just a short while away. Crosshair was leaning against the wall nearby, cleaning his firepuncher as soon as he could.

"Because we always need the credits." He sighed, putting a toothpick back between his lips. Wrecker laughed lightly before sitting up,

"Why don't we get some rest before Ord Mantell? You look like you need it." Rolling your eyes you dragged yourself upwards with a light huff, pulling yourself toward the bunks.

"Thanks Wrecker!" Playful sarcasm rang throughout your tone as you reached your bunk, his laugh making you smile to yourself as you allowed the cool and comforting texture of the blankets to greet you. Closing your eyes, sleep greeted you almost immediately - thoughts of the mission still lurking in your head. You definitely needed this and by the time you woke up, you were all, sure to be at Ord Mantell.

Once your eyes opened, you rubbed them gently and began to make your way into the cockpit a little worried you missed landing which you did. Looking around the room you noticed it was just you and the planet lay within the darkness of night. What were you supposed to do now? There was definitely not a chance you could fall back to sleep now especially with the dreams you had about the mission and the sting against your cheek. Moving to the side, you began to fumble around with the Med kit and grabbing a single bacta wipe to place against your cheek which just made you hiss a little at the harsher stinging until it settled down. Footsteps soon accompanied you along with a gentle voice,

"Hey y/n, aren't ya sleepin'?" You smiled gently at his voice before turning around to face him.

"Nah I can't get back to sleep. I'm sorry I slept through landing!" You grinned slightly toward him. "I trust it was a smooth landing as always?" Your playful tone made him chuckle a little before he began to help apply a light patch of bacta over your cheek.

"Oh yeah, completely." Gently patting your shoulder he gave you a light smile in return to yours. "Hey, why don't we go out for a little? It might help ya sleep." Tilting your head at him you began to put the Med kit away with a light laugh.

"Are you suggesting we sneak out to view Ord Mantell?" He just nodded at you, gesturing toward the ramp.

"Why not? Not like they're gonna miss us, they're out like a light - even Hunter." Your response was just to let down the ramp whilst keeping your gaze trained on Wrecker.

"Just remember this is your idea so you better take the fall if they wake up earlier." Grabbing his blaster he walked out with you, the cool night air instantly hitting your face as your eyes became glued upon the city lights before you. You could even hear some faint music from the various bars and clubs being carried over to you by the wind. Stepping forward Wrecker followed you whilst rubbing the back of his neck.

"Where do you think we should go?" With a light laugh you pulled him by his arm, taking you both further away and closer into the city.

"I've got some spare credits, why don't we grab a couple of things? Kinda like midnight snacks." His face soon turned into a state of confusion at your words.

"Midnight snacks?" He paused for a moment in thought, "What're they?"

"They're just treats you have late at night! Come on, it'll be fun." Gently tugging him further along, you both finally reached the city's paths which were still buzzing even at this hour of the night. Pushing past a few people, you both approached the market stalls, many of which were selling a variety of mouth-watering food and a selection of sweeter treats. Rolling your eyes over the colourful selections you hummed lightly, "Have you got a favourite treat?" He replied without hesitation,

"Mantell mix!" Your eyes fell upon the purple toned treat, instantly grabbing two boxes of the kind and paying the kind twi'lek who seemed pretty pleased yet confused with your purchase. Passing the box to Wrecker, you clung to your own and began to walk back out of the city with him all while embracing the cotton textured breeze that greeted your skin. Warily you took a bite of the sweet treat and instantly grinned ear-to-ear.

"How come I've never tried this before?" You asked, beginning to eat a handful whilst Wrecker did the same. "This is brilliant!" He laughed at your enthusiasm as you both allowed your legs to take you both elsewhere.

"I have it all the time, we should do this more often!" You just nodded until you allowed your eyes to trail to the sky above you, thousands of stars littering the sky with the slightest hint of a golden sunrise starting to take over the night sky.

"We should! Let's go eat these back at the Marauder just in case." Wrecker agreed pretty quickly and you both made your way back into the ship's warmth. Upon arrival, you both shut the ramp behind you and lounged around in the pilot's seats laughing and dropping the occasional Mantall mix upon the floor. Eventually you had both managed to drift back into slumber and once the rest of the ship had woken up, Tech wasn't really pleased at the mess. It was definitely worth it though and a loving memory with a close friend you'd keep forever

#The bad batch #Bad Batch #the bad batch x reader #Wrecker x reader #Clone Force 99 #Starwars #Mantell Mix #Fanfiction

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y��all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor xyou #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #thor odinson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt12

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feliix · 4 years ago

Text

Bluff ⇢ PJM (18+)

⇢ Pairing: Jimin x Reader ⇢ Summary: Working at The Big Kahuna with Park Jimin consists of a lot of suggestive flirting with no actions made to follow it up. But after a summer filled with endless amounts of sexual tension, it’s finally time to let things loose. ⇢ Word Count: 3.8k ⇢ Rating: M ⇢ Genre: Smut, PWP, Coworkers to Lovers, a lil bit of fluff ⇢ Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, teasing, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstilulation, dom!jimin, sub!reader ⇢ Banner made by @hobiance ⇢ A/N: thank you @jinterlude for beta reading this and @jinned for hyping me up always ily ily ily ♡ (the end is not edited so sorry rip) ⇢ Written for BHQ’s Bangtan Boardwalk Summer Collab

Working at the Big Kahuna hasn’t always been such a breeze. During the busy season, customers are in and out of here, renting jet-skis, paddle boards, and kayaks alike, all day long.

It's a little blue hut right on the water, a walk-up window that you sit behind overlooking a wooden dock. It’s small inside the hut, just enough room for you and one other person to work a shift, but it’s cozy, and the view is unbeatable, so you don’t really mind. The sandy beach surrounding you holds a plethora of water-sports equipment, ready for rental and just dying to be used at this point.

But now it's late in the season, the weather is cooling down, and fewer people have been showing up. It doesn’t quite matter to you, though. Fewer customers mean less work, and the less there is to do here, the better.

You’d think it’d get boring with nothing to do, but with a coworker like Park Jimin, things are always interesting. To be frank, he’s a flirt. But so are you, which is why working here this summer has been nothing short of a dream.

The flirtatious banter between you goes no further than just innocent teasing. It’s just something to keep you occupied while you get through your shift. Not that you’re complaining, though. If it did ever go somewhere further, you would not be mad about it. He’s hot, and you’re both young and single, so something’s bound to happen. You can cut the lingering sexual tension with a knife, and the longer you’re around each other, the thicker said tension gets.

So far today, there have only been two customers; a dad and his son who came in a few hours ago to rent out a couple of jet skis. When things are slow around here, the two of you seem to match the energy. It takes twice as long to clean up after people leave with twice the amount of energy expected just to complete a simple task. All you want to do is sit on your stool behind the counter and look pretty – nothing more, nothing less.

But even though the customers left over two hours ago, Jimin has yet to clean off the jet-skis. After losing a close match of ‘rock paper scissors’ the daunting task now belongs to him. And even though the equipment probably won’t be used for the rest of the day, it still bothers you that Jimin has been pushing off the task for so long.

All he’s doing is sitting on the stool next to you and messing around on his phone. Every once in awhile, he’ll snap a quick selfie, pushing his hair back with one hand and adjusting his look for the camera. He’s probably Snapchatting another random girl, whatever lucky lady has the pleasure of having his attention for the day. Not that you’re jealous or anything...

“So are you gonna clean those jet-skis or..?” Your voice is passive-aggressive, slightly taunting, and that bothers Jimin.

His eyes roll back into his head, a deep exhale leaving his mouth, “Yeah, when I feel like it.” A sly smirk grows on his lips, knowing his careless words and procrastinating actions are driving you up the wall.

Now it's your turn for your eyes to roll back into your head. You are just about to stand up and grab a rag to clean them yourself, but you will not let Park Jimin get his way again.

That’s how working with him went. It’s like he knows he has some kind of mindless control over you, that you’ll just pick up his slack once he flashes you with his pearly whites. Damn him and his little crooked tooth that makes your heart twist a bit more than you’d like to admit.

“Can you just wipe off the jet-skis already? You did lose the bet.”

Your tone is kinder this time, adding a head tilt to make you seem a bit more friendly. He doesn’t buy it.

“Be careful ordering me around like that. Keep it up, and I’ll have to show you who’s actually in charge.”

There he goes again with the suggestive flirting. Except his actions never follow through. He just throws words like that out there, making your knees weak to rile you up. That’s half of the fun. The other half is watching you try to muster up some confidence to respond while your face flushes and legs squeeze together.

“You’re bluffing.” You roll your eyes once more. Part of you thinks that he is, but that deep-seated desire for him is nearly at its peak. And the small tinge of hope you have that he’s being serious suddenly becomes not so little – right at the moment, his feet begin pacing over to you.

“Am I?”

The left corner of his mouth lifts upwards, his eyes growing dark and eerie as he gets closer and closer. You swallow thickly, your heart beating faster as he approaches you. Without realizing, your legs clamp shut, squeezing together for dear life to ease the throbbing ache of your pussy as Jimin slowly closes the distance between you. And before you know it, you’re standing up from your stool; your heart caught in your throat as your mouth runs dry.

So badly you want to hold your ground. To keep yourself back from jumping his bones, grabbing the back of his neck to crash your lips into his. But you need restraint. He’s the one who's bluffing; he’s the one that has to make the move.

“M-mhm,” you hum, saving yourself the embarrassment of actually trying to speak in a state like this.

His hot breath fans across your cheeks and deep breaths pass his plump lips as he stands just inches away from you. Being this close to him is too intimidating for your liking. You're trying your best to keep your stance, but your knees are quaking, and your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it.

But the closer he leans in, the quicker your heart begins to race.

“How about now?” He whispers over your lips, just a hair’s width away from brushing over them. Instantly, your eyes flutter shut, inhaling deeply to regain your composure and to get a grip on your sanity. If you let yourself go for one second, you’ll fall into him – but that’s what he wants.

“Mhm,” you repeat, too afraid to open your lips in fear they’ll touch his. Not because you’re scared to kiss him, but because you are too damn stubborn to be the one to kiss him.

You feel a gust of air push onto your lips as an airy chuckle leaves his mouth, “Cute.”

You swear your heart skips a beat when he says it, how he says it. His voice is low and seductive, dripping with lust and drawing you in, capturing your attention though you aren’t even looking at him. But even still, you're immersed with the thought of him. The predicting thoughts of the feeling of his lips on yours, and the soft texture of his light brown hair as your hands card through it.

It’s getting harder to hold back and stand your guard each time a soft breath lands on your lips. The sweet smell of his cologne overwhelming your sense of smell as heat from his body radiates onto you.

But suddenly, you find yourself not holding back any longer; your will power rapidly decreases as his hands rest on your waist. And when he tightens his grip around you, it's game over.

That strength you’ve been gripping onto for dear life is gone. Your lips crash into his in a heated kiss, his mouth instantly moving steadily against yours. They’re so much softer than they look, his pillowy lips encasing yours while his hands pull your body tightly into his own. His tongue soon traces over your bottom lip before he catches it between his teeth, tugging on it slightly in a way that drives you wild.

A stiffness forms beneath his shorts, pushing right against your body as he pulls you into him. Arousal quickly floods between your legs at the feeling, a needy moan vibrating past your lips and onto his. You’ve waited too long for this, the whole summer aching to feel his body pressed up against yours like this. And now you can barely hold it together just from a passionate make-out session – you’ve already soaked through your bikini bottoms, and he’s barely touched you.

But once his fingers find the hem of your shirt, you know this isn’t the furthest it's going to go. Internally, you’re singing praises, thanking whatever higher power allowed you to be in this position and this very moment.

And just when he’s about to pull away and rip the clothing off your body, he remembers where the two of you are. Quickly, his hands leave your body as he races over to the shack window. You roll your lips into your mouth, savoring the taste of him on you as you watch him reach for the heavy overhead door to shut. He closes the metal gate with a rough grunt, the slam of the door onto the countertop echoing through the small hut. And just like that, the room is filled with darkness, only a tiny beam of sunlight making its way through a small window in the back.

The sound of footsteps shuffling back in your direction calls you back in. Jimin’s figure appears again in front of you, the small amount of light peeking into the hut bouncing off his slender form. He’s just inches from you, but the sexual tension in the atmosphere feels like a million pounds weighing down on you.

Jimin’s hands reach back for your top, pulling it over your head in one swift motion. He wastes no time removing his own shirt, your hands effortlessly reaching out for him, running your fingers down his defined torso. His skin is hot, whether it's from the temperature outside or the building heat within him is up to your interpretation – but you’d like to think of it as the latter.

As he leans back into you your heart flutters, the now-familiar feeling of his breath washing over your lips comforting you.

“Fuck,” Jimin hums over your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His hand wanders down under your thigh, gripping the muscle while lifting your leg with his strong arm. His body presses into yours, feeling the rough outline of his cock through his swim trunks right over your core. You’re dripping; arousal seeping right through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms and onto your cotton shorts that do absolutely nothing to conceal your desire.

He can feel it for himself once his fingers graze down your body, finally meeting the flimsy fabric covering your core. Jimin’s digits flatten across the area, dragging them across your slit ever so slowly, making you shudder at his touch.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as he applies some pressure, pressing and rubbing your clit through the material of your shorts. You let your head fall back, bucking your hips into his hand to feel more, but the layers between you keep you from getting what you desire.

You’re too needy for his touch, unable to withstand much teasing before crying out for him. “Jimin,” you whine, “stop teasing me, please.” Your voice is high pitched and drawn out, begging for him to just rip the remaining clothing off your body.

“Hmm,” he hums, satisfied with your begging. “Tell me what you want.”

A knot forms in your throat, desperate enough to keep begging, but your pride prevents you from letting any words out. Your body language should be enough, pressing yourself further into him and raking your fingers up his back and running your fingers through his hair to try and entice him.

“With your words,” he says firmly, stopping the movement of his hand over your core. You keen into his touch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you’re unable to look him dead in the eye. Not while you’re so desperate and needy for him, and not before you’re about to admit it.

“Jimin,” you whine again, dragging out the last syllable of his name for greater emphasis. “Want your fingers inside me.”

He smirks in response, satisfied with your words. “Already so wet for me,” you shiver as a deep, lust-filled voice leaves Jimin’s lips, his fingers slowly pulling the fabric of your shorts to the side. It sounds different from his normal voice; usually light and airy, something you could pick out of a crowd. But this was a whole different Jimin – one that you certainly like.

The cool air meets your soaked core, giving you a quick chill. Instinctively, you lean into him, the shiver running down your spine as his fingers begin to circle your entrance making it hard for you to stand up straight.

But all you can focus on is his erect member now rubbing against your thigh as the pads of his fingers smeared the wetness along your slit. Your eyes are sewn shut, your head digging deep into his neck as your only supporting leg quivers.

You’re so sensitive to his touch, it’s becoming difficult to control your body. Your eyes are closed so tight you can see stars dancing behind your eyelids, just focused on the feeling of his fingers dancing along your core. As his fingers work their way upwards, a high pitched moan leaves your throat. It catches you off guard once he begins rolling your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly, making you keen over in pleasure.

“Fuck, Jimin. Feels so good,” your fingers grip the roots of his hair, tugging and pulling at it to ground yourself. But once his lips begin moving over your neck and his hand supporting your lifted leg tightens, you can’t help but let out a wanton moan.

You find yourself grinding down onto Jimin’s fingers, needy for more of him, and yearning to feel him inside of you. You’ve already asked once, you already feel like you could come right now and he hasn't even been inside you yet.

He can read your body language well, bringing his fingers to trace the extent of your slit back until they meet your entrance once more. Swiftly, he dips two fingers into the arousal that's pooling from your core. Finally. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as just his digits carefully caress your walls. The slow movement of his fingers plunging into your depths takes your breath away in an instant.

The bulge rubbing against your leg is doing nothing but teasing you. Each time his finger slides in and out of you he ruts into you, begging to be touched. You pick up on this, snaking your hand between your bodies to palm at the evident cock outline he's sporting. A sudden gasp leaves his lips at the feeling, his eyebrows raising in succession as his cock jumps in your grip.

His movements stop as you squeeze his member, now unable to focus at the task at hand with you teasing him like this. A rough grunt leaves his lips, removing his fingers from your core instantly. You immediately feel empty and bare without them inside you. So your jaw drops, confused and ready to ask what his deal is – but Jimin has other plans.

His hand holding your leg up quickly leaves your thigh. You don’t even have time to react before his hands are gripping your waist, spinning your body around, and bending you over the desk as he steps behind you. Air is sucked out of your lungs as your chest meets the wooden desk, cheek pressed onto the hard surface as Jimin harshly grips your hips.

“Such a tease,” he shakes his head, one hand coming down to leave a playful slap on your ass. You wince in reaction, the quick tinge of pain turning into pleasure. Arousal floods from your core as his hand rubs over the affected area, soothing the skin over the material of your clothes.

Jimin’s fingers loop themselves over the waistband of your shorts and under your bikini bottoms, tugging them downward. He doesn’t bother to even take them off fully, just shimmies them halfway down your thighs so that he has full access to your dripping pussy.

He’s quick to slide his swim trunks off his body, his fully erect member springing from the confines of the fabric. Your heart is pounding in your chest, heaving as you try to catch your breath. But he’s not one to wait, wrapping his hand around his shaft and pumping it a few times before lining it up at your entrance.

You brace yourself for his length, but it doesn’t come. You’re desperate, arching your back in attempts to push him inside of you, but he just shifts his weight backward.

“Ask nicely.”

His voice is stern; teasing but direct. Rolling your eyes, you give in, unwilling to play another game of cat and mouse while he already has you bent over and ready for the taking.

“Please Jimin,” you moan, “please fuck me.” Leg bouncing impatiently as you wait for him, he lines himself up with your entrance once more. The light pressure of his tip pressed against you makes you stir, bouncing your leg in anticipation as your hands look for something to grip onto.

A steep gasp passes through your lips as his cock slides itself into you; your velvety walls squeezing the veiny ridges of his member as you take him in. He’s thick and long, his length continuing to push into you until you’re filled to the brim.

You can’t help but clench down on him as you adjust to his size, your walls squeezing his thick cock as he bottoms out his thrust. A string of curses leaves his lips as your walls squeeze around him from every angle. The arousal spilling from your cunt coats his cock deliciously.

Jimin’s hands quickly find their place on your hips, holding you steady as he begins to rock backward. His cock slides in and out of you slowly but forcefully. He makes sure to bottom out each time, taking his time to pull out and then slam himself into you with such force.

“So fucking tight,” he moans, his thrusts beginning to quicken in pace. Your arms extend before you, gripping onto the edge of the desk to keep yourself steady. His powerful thrusts fail to subside, the force he rocks into you causing his member to prod your g-spot.

The sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat fill your ears. Soft whines bubble past your lips with each thrust, his power shaking you and the desk underneath you.

Smoothly, Jimin’s hand reaches downward, snaking between your legs and gathering your arousal on his fingertips. His fingers graze over your clit gently, immediately making your body jerk in reaction. Slight pressure is added by his hand, soon to make a slow rubbing motion.

“So...close…” you manage to get out while you pant for air. You can feel a knot tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap if he keeps on like this.

“Cum on my cock, princess” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The pet name is what gets you, your walls already beginning to spasm as he applies more pressure to your clit.

Euphoria takes hold on you as you release, your vision becoming fuzzy as your body grows limp. Jimin pushes you through it, his fingers continually moving over your throbbing bud as you release over him. Your legs shake, the strength of your orgasm so strong you lose all control of your body. His name leaves your lips like a mantra, chanting it over and over with curses intertwined.

It takes you a bit to come down, oversensitivity quickly setting in as Jimin’s trusts continue. His fingers are more gentle now, lightly toying with your clit as you do your best to try and swat his hand away. But you’re too lethargic, too drawn out from your orgasm that took all your strength away from you.

“One more,” he says, “doing so good for me.”

And soon enough that familiar knot in your stomach was making its way back to you, if it ever left in the first place. The repetitive tap of Jimin’s tip deep inside you has you so far gone; your pussy clenching and unclenching around him completely out of your control.

But it's getting to him too. The added lubricant of your orgasm mixed with the squeezing of your walls around his cock is bringing him close to his own end.

“Gonna...come,” he moans, his hands leaving your overstimulated clit to grip onto your hips. The pace of his thrusts quickens, his brow furrowing deeply as he focuses on chasing his high.

All it takes is one powerful thrust, and you were coming undone around him once again. “Fuck, fuck!” You nearly scream, pushing back into him to meet his thrusts, helping him through an orgasm of his own.

The everlasting sensation of bliss takes over the both of you. Jimin’s thrusts grow languid and sloppy, his torso slowly falling on top of your back. You lie like this for a moment, letting him collapse over you and feel the heat of his body radiate onto yours. It feels nice, close having him inside you like this while his arms wrap around you in silence.

“We should've done this sooner,” his voice breaks through the quiet room. A small smile forms on your lips as you internally agree, showing him with a nod of your head.

Slowly, he stands up, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling empty for the second time today. A mixture of your and his cum dribbles out of your cunt, Jimin noticing and quickly swiping it up with his finger. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, watching his movements closely to see what he’ll do next.

Swiftly, his hand finds its way to his mouth, his digit slipping past his lips as he licks the juices from it. Your jaw drops in reaction, his finger leaving his mouth with a soft pop of his lips.

He notices you gawking at him, raising his eyebrows as you suggestively in response. “I’d like to try it right from the source next time.”

A slight chuckle leaves your lips, in disbelief while still being very turned on. “Next time.” You hum, liking the sound of that as it leaves your mouth.

“There will be a next time, won't there?” Except his question comes across as more of a statement, his tone firm and gestures sturdy while he reaches for his swim trunks to pull back up.

You follow his actions, standing back onto your shaky legs to pull your swimsuit bottoms and shorts up in one quick motion. There will definitely be a next time.

#bb2020 #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #smutcentralnet #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #cypherwritersnet #kpopuniversenet #jimin x reader #jimin smut #park jimin #jimin fanfic

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bigboobyhalo · 4 years ago

Note

ok time for art excitement that i can’t fit in just the tags !! this’ll probably be repetitive n possibly incoherent !!! you can also interpret my many exclamation marks for happy stimming :] !!

dream !!!! oooooooo the way his jacket is shaped is so nice !! ooooooo this is amazing :D !!!!!!

skdjdjkd george’s expression i love these so much !!! mushroom n goggles !!!! these are all so amazing :D !!!!!

sapnap !!! the demon horns <3 !!!! all the little variations in their outfits like him having one pant leg cuffed n the other not are so cool :D !!!!!

callahan is adorable oh my gosh <3 !!! ooo n like the minimal shading on like the inside of the hood n his hooves !!! this is so pretty !!!!!!

sam :D !!!!!!!!!! o i love this !!!! (he looks so happy and un-traumatized skdjdkkdk) the apron n gloves this is so v sam !!!!

ponk oh my gosh his expression he looks so small skdjdkkd !!!!!! leaf !!!!! oooooo i love the coloring like on the mask n his pants especially are so pretty !!!!!

BAD !!!! ah the legs look so cool !!! he’s got chains !!!! and tallness hehe !!! oooo his hands !!! o he is so demon-y i love him !! (v pfp-potential .....) so v cool !! i adore the way you draw bad !!!!

tommy !!! these are such good like expressions n like well not as much poses but like the way they’re standing n holding themselves are all so v in character these are so good !!!!! band aid guy hehe !!! ooo pockets :] !! i love all the colors from your color chart !!

tubbo !! aww these are such nice outfits n like the lineart !!!! all of these are so shapey n nice i love them !!!!!!!

fungi <3 !!!!!!! o he is so fox guy :D !!! theyre all monochrome but your use of like color n contrast is so good !!!! fluffy :] !!

punz !!!!!! ah !! the shape-y-ness is so nice !!! your art is so pretty n so all the characters are like so distinct !! commie you are so a cool :]

purpled !!! not a surprising color !!! i really like the expression and like coloring choices you did for him :D !!!! v lovely !!!!!!!!

wilbur !!! ooooo light n dark shading !!!! these are so cool !!!!! like his hair being floofy n the roundness of his face n shoes but then the like lines n straightness of his clothes n legs !!!! i aspire so much to draw like you :] !!!!!

hehe evil sheep dude !! ooo horns !! also a really cool one for like both light n slightly lighter n dark shading !! like the tie versus the suit versus his shoes !!! these are so nice n pretty !!! n i love the way you pose them n all the expressions :D !!!!!!

skeppy :P !!!!! ha short. box :] !! ooooooooooo the shininess n texture on his legs o that’s so cool i really really like this skeppy design !!! he’s box but also diamond :] !!! big hoodie :D !!!!!

eret !!! oooo the contrast between the sunglass n the coloring looks so cool !!! ah why do these all have to be so pfp-potential skdjdkdkkd !!! the way floofy hair like is distinct from the other like smoother lines is so pretty !!!!!!!! your art is like just so good n fun to look at !!!

jack manifold !!! o this is epic !!!!!!!!! the coloring on this is incredible !!!!!! it’s monochrome but everything is so distinct this is amazing !!!!!!!!! even his 3d glasses are easy to tell theyre different shades o this is wonderful !!! he’s so like corner-y? like the like are so sharp n nice :] !!!!

niki !!! o this is so the perfect color for her !!!!!! i love this outfit !! w the long sleeve shirt underneath n the overalls !!! o this is so pretty :D !!! niki <3 !!!!!

skdjdkjdjd o this expression is so correct for quackity !!! i mean it’s your style so they’re all v shape-y but w quackity’s hoodie it’s a v nice variation between curvy n straight lines :D !!!! and wonderful coloring for the different shades !!!!!!!

hbomb !!!!!!!! woah this is so incredible !!! like he’s almost fully colored in plus having a plaid pattern n like all the values are nice and like separate !!! i really really love how you made them all looking like how they did when they first joined this is such a good concept n really really wonderful designs for everyone !!!!!!!

techno !!!! oooooo big cape :] !!! earrings !!!!! commie you are so epic these are incredible !!! oooooo the jewels on his crown n cape are so pretty :D !!!!!

ant my boy <3 !!! i already rambled about him in the tags but your art is wonderful n i love him so he gets extra appreciation out of bias :] !!! v epic ant art :D !!!!!

philza !!!! oooo the shading like under his hat o that’s so cool !!!!!! skdjdjjd i like how far down the neckline is smdjndslkdjdk !!!! v pretty :D !!!!!!!!

connor !!! o he is so v shapey this is so good !!!!! n his expression !!!! these are amazing !!!!!! v cool coloring too !!!!!

puffy !!!! ooooo i really like this color for her !!! v fitting :] !!! oooooo !!! like shapey-ness for her specifically like the way the curl ones of her hair contrasts the v straight lines of her shirt oooooo this is beautiful :D !!!!! i really reallu like this outfit for puffy w the shorts n sunglasses n all :] !!!!!!!!!!

woah !!!! the coloring for ranboo is so pretty !!!! his eyes !!!!! o that’s so cool !!!!!!!!! oooo the jewels on his crown :D !!! o this is so good to look at !!!!!!!

foolish !!!!!!!!! ooooo his emerald eyes :D !!!!! oooooooooooooo v cool foolish outfit !!! hehe tall :] !!!!! aww the shark is lovely n blushing :D !!!!!!! o you have no idea how happy your squiggly blush makes me it’s so cool !!!!!

HANNAH <3 !!! o this is INCREDIBLE !!!!!!!!! the vine arm !!! that’s epic !!! this design is wondeful !!!!!!!!! oooooo the pattern on the skirt !!!! this is so pretty !!!!! rose shoes :D !!! this makes me so happy !!!!!!!!!! ah !! n like the little floaty leaves :] !!!! oooooooo there’s so much detail but it’s like v well spread out n v nice to loook at !!! n the way the curliness of her hair contests the straightness of her outfit but then the wavy vines on her arm n then versus the straightness n slight curve of her legs !!!! o this is so pretty !!!!!!!!!

commie you are so cool n i am in such awe how did you draw ALL of these you did not announce this that long ago skdjdjdjdj

... also i just realized i don’t know if you’re ok with typing quirks. uh oh :/ uh well anyways your art is very cool and i really really adore all of these :D !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKIGN NCIE I KEEP REREADING IT AND LIKE I CAN’T REPLY TO THIS ALL BUT JSUT KNW THAT THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME OHHHHHH MY GOODNESS TYSM TYSM TYSM i have no clue how i got it done so quick im mentally unwell ig

#ask #FUNNY BC THIS MADE ME HAPPY STIM ACTUALLY!!!#also im cool w/ typing quirks as long as they arent gonna mess up ppls screenreaders #starsandfluff

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war-sword · 5 years ago

Text

𝚗̶𝚘̶ 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕

summary: Y/N is Draco’s angel, his true love, sent to turn his life around. Nothing could ever break them apart. A/N: this was my alternative version of my winter exchange fic, but since it’s no longer for that i took out the Christmas elements, but you can still see the prompt I had in it (snow). hopefully it’s not too obvious tho, haha. words: 2.3k taglist: @clockworkherondale @accio-rogers @mayorofzillyhoo @diademofdraco @drawlfoy @ladybuginthetardis @lushlavenderskies @socontagiousimagines @acciodracoo @eltanin-malfoy @silentexplorer18 @shawn-is-bruh @heavenlycat567

◈◈◈

Draco Malfoy loved Y/N L/N.

Their love had been rather unconventional. Draco could still remember their younger years in school, the days when they were younger and he definitely did not like her. Y/N was sweet as sugar, and everyday she’d take the acid words Draco would throw at her and turn them to cotton candy. He used to hate her for it. Now, it was one of his favorite things about her.

She would return his sneers with a smile. Drive his storm clouds away with sunshine. It was a battle to see who would crack first, and Draco vowed to disturb the peaceful waters of Y/N’s personality for as long as they were in school.

Until one day, he didn’t.

It was like waking up from a dream. What once had been effortless able to call atrocious in every way, Y/N’s features left him at a loss for words, for how could he describe such beauty? Her honeyed voice slowly sounded less annoying, and became downright intoxicating. Hands so holdable and lips so kissable. Y/N turned from the object of his loathing to one of devotion.

Draco, who never got nervous, had a heartbeat of a mile a minute the day he decided was time to relay this strange new development to Y/N herself. He could seek no comfort in the solace of his friends, who all thought he was losing his mind. Pansy especially liked to preach he’d lost his mind, and Draco was terrified that was exactly what Y/N would say when he told her. In a quiet corner of the castle, Draco stumbled over his words trying to describe the complicated transformation that had occurred in his heart, while Y/N waited ever so patiently with a confused look on her face. He decided the only way he could ever explain it all was to take her face into his hands, and kiss her.

“I’ve waited months to do that,” Draco had said as they pulled apart.

“I’ve waited forever,” Y/N replied.

Y/N pulled Draco into her sunshine. She enthusiastically introduced him to all her favorite pastimes–– feeding the fish in the Great Lake, finding cozy nooks in the castle to drink tea in, drawing outside on the lawn, or climbing the most inviting trees. Draco would hold onto her tight when she would squeal at the sight of the Giant Squid, and lay beside her while she would sketch him as he napped. She never wanted to share her drawings, but sometimes when she left it alone, he would sneak a peek. She was so talented. Draco called her his angel, sent from Heaven to make all his dark days light again, and he loved to tell her so.

As the years passed, Draco slowly had to give up on trying to get his friends to accept Y/N. After a particularly raucous argument with Pansy in the common room one night, Pansy had screamed at Draco they couldn’t be friends anymore, if he was never going to wake up to Y/N’s poisonous psyche.

“I’ve told you time and time again, there is something wrong with her! She’s hiding something! I know it! What does a girl like her want with someone like you?!” Pansy screeched.

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Draco roared back. “It’s fine if you don’t like her! You never even had to talk to her, but it’s been almost two years, Pansy, and if you can’t even glance at us without a nasty look on your face then leave us both alone.”

Pansy was fuming. “Do you love her Draco? Actually? Because you used to hate her guts.”

“Why would I ever lie about that? Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, all you’ve ever been was a pain in my ass.”

“Then do me a favor and don’t ever talk to me again,” she sneered. “And especially don’t come running when it falls apart.”

Draco’s last year at Hogwarts had been rough, being totally alienated from his housemates. As angry as Draco was with Pansy for turning the rest of his friends against him was well, he knew he would always have Y/N. Every evening he knew he could count on her for a smile and a kiss that he swore could erase all his bad memories.

“I’m going to marry you one day, Y/N,” Draco said plainly one day as they relaxed in one of their favorite spots by the lake.

Y/N lifted her head from where it was resting on his chest. “Really? Are you being serious?”

“Of course, angel,” he said, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I swear everytime I look at you it’s like I’ve never been more in love with you.”

The look of happiness on Y/N’s face could have probably gotten him through the rest of his life.

Draco didn’t mind that she changed him. His face became dotted with freckles with all of his newly spent time outside. He treasured every nick and scar that now covered his hands from his and Y/N’s adventures. On a larger scale, he would be forever grateful that Y/N had turned his opinions around about muggles and muggleborns. Y/N made him a better person, he just knew it. She made him whole.

Now, out of school, Draco and Y/N had a life of their own in a house together. They ate their dinner by the fire, and in the evenings Y/N would make him his tea just how he liked it before bed. In the days, Y/N had her dream job of working as a seamstress, and Draco was more than happy to help her in the shop with bookkeeping. He never wanted to be too far from her.

One night, Draco watched Y/N dance around the kitchen as she cooked, completely entranced by the sight of her. He especially loved the sight of the sparkling diamond on her ring finger, as she delicately dipped it into the soup to give it a taste. They still had a few months to go (Y/N wanted a spring wedding), but Draco felt like it couldn’t come fast enough.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he jumped up to stand behind her and wrap his arms about her waist. He planted an open-mouthed kiss on her neck that made her giggle.

“It smells delicious, angel.”

“It’ll be ready soon,” she says, offering him a taste. Draco hums into her ear.

“Tastes even better than I thought.”

Y/N pulls bread, fresh from the oven. They have their warm meal at the table while cold wind swirls around outside the house. They eat their meal in mostly comfortable silence, and as they’re finishing Draco notices something out the window. “Y/N, look! It’s finally snowing.”

“What, really?” She runs from the kitchen where she was getting another slice of bread to join him at the window. Sure enough, white flakes are beginning to come down.

Draco grabs her hand. “Let’s go out. You love snow!”

Y/N breaks out into a grin. “Okay. Yes!”

They break out into giggles as they throw on their coats and hats and scarves, stumbling into each other as they pull on their thick winter boots. They trapse outside, and Y/N giddily lifts her hands to the sky to catch the flakes on her mittens. “Draco, look, it’s already starting to stick! We’ll have so much snow by the morning!”

Draco’s chest swells with affection as he watches his fianceé spin in circles. “Yeah, we probably will. Come on, let’s walk around while it comes down,” he says, reaching out a hand. Y/N takes it and they start to walk down the lane from their house to the street.

While it’s freezing outside and Draco can no longer feel his face, it’s all worth it to see Y/N get excited about the snow beginning to cover the ground. By the time they finish their walk and are making their way back to the house, several inches have fallen and the sun is setting, nearly dark. The lights that are still on in their house cast a warm glow across the now-white ground. Y/N throws herself down onto the lawn on her back, and starts to swish her arms and legs. “Dray, come make a snow angel with me.”

Instead of laying down next to her, Draco gets down and lays right on top of her. Y/N laughs and tries to push him off, but he insists on peppering her with kisses. “You’re my snow angel,” he says, pulling back to admire her, cheeks and nose flushed from the cold.

“I love you so much.” Y/N reaches up to brush some snow from his hair. “You look so pretty in this light…” she trails off, her grin slipping from her face. “Draco, what time is it?”

“Um, I’m not sure.” He rolls to the side and pushes up the sleeve of his coat to look at his watch. “Nearly eight. You want to go in?”

Y/N scrambles to her feet and holds her arms out to offer to help him up. “Yes, please. Come on, it’s time for tea and bed.”

“What’s wrong? We’re having fun,” he says reassuringly. Y/N just grabs his wrists and hauls him up, rushing towards the house.

“Nothing!’ I’m just… cold! I’m cold. Please, let’s go in.”

“Um, alright. Let me get some more wood to put on the fire.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m sure it’s fine, let’s just go in.” Draco allows her to pull him back inside the house. She yanks off her jacket and kicks her boots off at the same time, bolting into the kitchen.

Draco lets out a chuckle, slowly taking off his layers. “Y/N what’s the rush?” He peeks around the corner to see Y/N in the kitchen, frantically waving her wand to summon teacups and tea bags. He turns back to the hall closet, shaking his head, and starts to put her haphazardly scattered clothes away in the closet.

By the time he gets to her discarded hat, he finds himself staring at it with a sort of disconnected recognition. He knows this hat. The texture and pattern are familiar, so many memories attached as his fingers brush across the wool. And yet, he’s also seeing it for the first time. Why does he know this hat.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound and sight of Y/N sliding into the entryway, tea sloshing over the side of the cup. Draco turns slowly from looking at the hat in his hands to looking at her.

“Draco, here–” She shoves the tea in his direction. The cup is ratting on its saucer in her shaking hands.

Everything is coming into sharper focus now. Y/N’s frantic face, her shallow breaths. His nostrils are filled with a familiar and homely scent, but there’s nothing from his childhood it reminds him of. Draco ignores Y/N’s pleas to take the tea and pushes her aside to walk into the living room.

It’s covered in him. Moving photographs of him and Y/N in frames. His jumper he’d had since 6th year is draped over the back of a chair. Dishware he remembers receiving from his mother are stacked clean, next to the sink. Dishware he’d gotten when he’d moved in with Y/N.

All these memories, so clear in his mind, yet no recollection of them actually happening. Draco feels like he’s been transplanted into someone else’s consciousness. No, someone else is in his.

He turns again, where Y/N still stands in the entryway. Her eyes are now filled with tears.

“Y/N, what am I doing here?” A heavenly aroma wafts from the cup she’s now white-knuckle gripping. “Y/N,” Draco asks again, more forceful this time. “Why. Am. I. Here.”

“Draco,” she stammers, her voice cracking. “P-please…. Please just drink the tea.”

Draco starts to back away from her. Reality is hitting him fully now– the shiny diamond winking on her left hand, books that were his from the Manor sitting on the shelves. And so, so many photos. “You’ve been drugging me. You’ve been giving me amortentia.”

The china slips from Y/N’s hands, shattering on the floor in a deadly starburst of porcelain and potion. She sinks to her knees, her eyes taking on the vacant look that Draco’s held just moments ago. “I’m sorry, I just wanted–”

“Me,” Draco snarls, reaching for his wand in his pocket. “You just wanted me. You’re sick.”

Y/N had started to sob. “There was no other way! I-I could n-never get you to notice me.”

“BECAUSE I HATED YOU! I HATE YOU!” Draco yelled. Y/N curled even further into herself, laying down on the floor in a ball.

Draco didn’t turn his back on her, but he grabbed as many things as he recognized as his into his arms. He moved back towards the entryway to put his shoes back on, shaking with rage at Y/N and also fear of having nearly five years of his life taken from him. Y/N reached out as he walked past to brush his leg, and he pulled it away as fast as he could. “Don’t touch me,” he snarled.

“Draco please, you have to remember,” she begged, eyes red from crying, pieces of broken teacup stuck to her hands. “You love me. You tell me all the time.”

“No, I do not. I never have, and I never will. And if I ever see you again, I swear to Merlin I’ll kill you myself.”

#..... uh sorry?#as you can see.... i had some reservations about making this my exchange fic lol #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #my writing

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gasp-iwrotesomething · 5 years ago

Text

Sanctuary (SFW)

Summary: Caleb North is callous and reserved and irking to just about every person he meets--including MC. But as she begins to understand and explore Cal’s heart beyond the thin film he had set into place, MC starts to believe that surely there’s more to those stunning blue eyes than what’s on the surface. When MC becomes more than someone he’s in debt for, will Cal come to embrace her hospitality or will he deny himself sanctuary?

Word Count: 4,344

Genre: Fluff (SFW)

Warning(s): none, just straight detective Cal evaluating the feelings he’s conjured for MC

A/N: This is based on the song Sanctuary by Joji, I highly recommend listening to the song while you read this; it’s very beautiful!

Cal couldn’t sleep.

Too many thoughts purled in his mind and staved the heaviness that was supposed to settle in his eyelids. Even when he attempts to close his eyes tight and focus on slipping off into his dreams, nothing happens except for more thoughts to herd together in his head. Groaning, Cal drags a hand down his face grudgingly. This didn’t happen very often for him; being restless because of emotions. Emotions. There was a lot the bittersweet gunslinger was known for and displaying--hell, even struggling with--emotion isn’t one such example. He wasn’t sure where the ache in his heart stemmed from--maybe faulty wiring? A fluke in his cardiovascular system? Chemical imbalance in his head? Whatever the reason, Cal didn’t like it. He recognized the sense of longing parading in his heart, jerking his heartstrings like a pampered child throwing a tantrum. The feeling caused a frown to flip Cal’s expression inside out. He hated that feeling. It made him vulnerable--unlocked the heart he had bolted and chained and boarded shut hundreds of times over. Why now, out of the 27 years he’s been alive and kicking, did his own heart and emotions betray him like this? Then, like an epiphany transmitted from an ethereal being overseeing his moping, a mental painting of MC winks in his thoughts and Cal scoffs reflexively, skeptical. There was no way that MC--a tiny inept girl who acted like she had already had her mid-life crisis seven times over and worked in a bike rental shop alongside her mom--was the cause of his emotional contusion.

Not only did the idea seem unruly and misplaced, Cal disliked it because, deep down, he knew that there was some waft of truth to it. She’s not that bad of a person for someone who works at a small bike shop... The trick shooter almost groans again but he stifles the noise, remembering that Avi was fast asleep just a few feet away from him. He rolls onto his side instead. But somewhere along the journey of executing his plan something falls through; a minuscule detail that nettled him more. The memory of MC curled up in bed beside him explodes into his mind, alongside the glitter bomb of emotion that sparkled and danced and spun in spirals within his rib cage. Frustration follows and Cal’s nostrils flare, crystalline eyes rolling. Why can’t she just be another civilian that Cal meets, forgets, and never sees again? A whole galaxy of regret and longing and some other irately balmy emotion unravel inside of him. Cal grasps a pillow and crushes it against his face and groans, the noise long-winded and muffled as it tickles his face. MC shouldn’t be allowed to have this all encompassing effect on him--both legally and morally. Lock her up for finessing her dainty little way into the brash and emotionless Caleb North’s heart--don’t forget to throw away the key for good measure.

Go ahead and bark after dark

But even through his fit of annoyance and denial, the one thing Cal couldn’t deny was the distance the two of them had breached--pared. The bland, snapping turtle of a woman had gained her character arch in Cal’s eyes. Now she was more than just the naive and narrow-minded girl Cal had to repay--now she was MC and nothing less than that. It was hard to place a title upon her head beyond anything other than her name; like she’d grown into the name ‘MC’ and earned her dish of respect. Cal thought so at least. Over time, her actions and dialogue told the gunslinger that she had more depth and required more than just a once-over to understand thoroughly--she wasn’t an easy puzzle to decipher. Maybe that’s what appealed to him most--the idea of being totally cognizant of her as an entire person and not just a voice that twittered this and that. Of deciphering something complex but so easy to dissect; swift access beamed into his hands. Cal’s eyes trace the pattern of the ceiling ahead as his thoughts follow a curved and callous rail, all dedicated to the feeling Cal kept aloof in his jumping heart. What was this emotion--this sun that shone in his chest? What did it mean? Why do I kind of, sort of, possibly not mind it?

Fallen star, I’m your one call away

Despite the wisps of confusion wound around his subconscious, Cal knew that it eluded to something bordering fondness--affection. The word sounds like a roll of barbed wire spiking his thoughts and he resists the urge to smack himself upside the head. Damn it all, why did she have to make it so much harder for him? Can’t she just bask on the throne of the person Cal disliked most and keep the crown structurally sound on her head? Again, the convulsing tangle of emotion sprawling throughout his body wrestles the irked retort down, defeating it unconditionally. He didn’t know a thing about requiting feelings and he definitely didn’t know a thing about harboring strong feelings for anyone outside the same six people--er, five if you discount Ripley as an animal--he’s known for years.

Cal only allowed himself to become attached to people who he could count on and trust--people who had his best interests at heart. Meeting a new person, much less dating, was too big of a step for the gunslinger to judge. Too much of a risk to take. He’d rather leave the whims up to whoever spectated his life and let them call the shots on his destiny. Of course thinking this revives his knowledge of the prophecy and the staccato of his heart trudges, suddenly faced with something almost as staggering as MC. But not exactly. Nothing could match MC’s oddities. How was he going to tell her about what he learned? About what fate had whispered in his ear, alluding that he was destined to die? That Avi was to replace him?

MC wouldn’t be game for that--who would be? Like a fallen star, MC is all his mind comes to center around, orbiting tireless circles around her. Somehow, in a cheesy, lovey-dovey sort of sense, she made the dazzling superficial lights of Vegas seem like they’re not shining as bright as they could be. Like MC was naturally able to emit something that could outshine the nacreous luminescence even without the use of actual light. Yuck, that was grossly romantic thing to think, Caleb. Though he cringes, his heart nods against his rib cage. And then too late does Cal realize that his face is freckled with the color of embarrassment--sheepishness. God, I hate that I just admitted that to myself. Didn’t I swear I’d never become a cheap hopeless romantic? But this didn’t feel like romance--it felt natural. Something too instinctive and pure to be labeled as ‘romance’ or even the more costly term: ‘love’. MC was a good person to know and a fun person to playfully debate with; someone who could turn even the most shallow subjects into an ocean of chortle-worthy discussion. She deserved more than she had and if Cal could, he’d give her what she wanted--all she had to do was give him a call and he would be there. Whenever and for whatever.

Motel halls, neon walls When night falls, I am your escape

Cal sighs. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to analyze the gallery of warmth strewed in his chest. But--as misfitting as it sounds when describing Cal North--he found himself wanting to explore the profundity of what he felt for MC. The more he knew about himself, the better after all. Like a reel of film shuddering to life in a cinema, memories of all that’s happened since he met MC flicker and coalesce grainy in his mind. There was the encounter in the store with the glue, then the coincident meeting to buy the medical textbook. After that, MC had saved him and in doing so had uncoiled a road of ruched destiny between the two of them. If she hadn’t risked herself to save Cal that day, would they even still know each other the way they did today? Cal doesn’t linger on the question, already knowing that the answer wasn’t tuned to the rhapsody of his emotions.

But what was the war in his heart became the enlightenment of his mind, casting in potential realities that made the ceiling’s textures swirl before his very eyes. Swimming in denied fates, Cal clutches the pillow he had just used to smother his grumbles and groans close to his chest. In that moment of thoughtlessness--or rather of moving out of reflex and not out of sole subconscious will, Cal experiences a scintilla of desire for something he didn’t immediately recognize--something that seemed close but so far form achievable. Like a pleasant fever dream reminisced in the heart of euneirophrenia. He found that the desire was wanting to hold MC the way he held the pillow; close and intimate, warm and comforting. His face burns again but he so does his heart, flustering as hot as a glowing coal in a furnace. But again, like a hero from some bootleg comic books, the sense of their connection being too organic to be love swoops in and saves Cal from dying form sheer embarrassment. Apparently even Cal North didn’t know what resides inside of Cal North’s heart.

The irony is more jeering than uplifting to the baffled gunslinger. It was easy to pretend to be suave but to naturally act cool and collected? Cal wasn’t the top of the field when it comes to that sort of spiel. But as if a nighttime pleasure he could rely on, MC’s presence in his mind sweeps aside the bitterness fogging his conscience. Like an escape of sorts, used to skirt around the hardships of being in love. Being in love? I’m not in love with MC--It’s not the way I am! Cal almost shouts the unsaid thought out loud just to wipe away all of the confusion and fuzziness clogging his chest. “I’m not in love.” Cal reiterates quietly. Maybe voicing the misgivings of how he felt would make the godly being overlooking him commiserate and wave its wand to make the sappy feelings maturing in him eviscerate. Maybe him rationalizing the way he felt made him a coward. Maybe Cal was in over his head and this was all just a conclusion he jumped to--and if that was the case, he might have beaten the world record for farthest jump. Having a heart capable of emotion is hard. Can’t I just be an insentient gunslinger who stars in a circus and doesn’t indulge in the world of romance?

When you lay alone, I ache Something I wanted to feel

But Cal was dodging the truth. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like the way she made him feel; the constant ray of heat that melted the ice encapsulating his heart. The only other person ever capable of that was Avi--and he was his kid, for god’s sake! And now with the way Cal wanted MC here with him, when had anyone else been able to have that effect on him? His history of partners wasn’t exactly the flashiest or the longest but he hadn’t felt an ache like this one. Like when he was on the rooftop with MC and he stopped her from jumping--the pang had been evident there too. Why? At the time they had only known each other for under a week and Cal felt like he was letting a precious artifact slip from his grasp. Almost as if her importance was too dire to him to risk it. Cal whirls around to face the fireplace and watch the glowing flames thrash against ruddy brick. How many more questions are you going to ask, Caleb? What are you taking this to be--some sort of funky game show about your love life struggles? A self-funded therapy session? It all flabbergasted him--why was he still investigating when he was supposed to be going to sleep?

Somewhere in between evaluating the choices he had made in thinking about MC and wondering why in the world he felt the way he did, Cal tiptoed off into a surprisingly peaceful slumber. Almost immediately, a dream formulates and engulfs him--foggy and thick like mist floating through the air. The first thing he’s greeted with is a familiar room that had a mellow blue palette of colors--bicycle tires line the walls of all sizes, family photos cling to the desk sequestered in the corner... Wait. With a jagged start, Cal recognizes the setting he was thrusted into. This is MC’s room! Moonlight flowed in through the window, casting the shadowed room into a silverish blue hue.

If you’ve been waitin’ for fallin’ in love,

On the bed, shrouded in the glow of the night sky, is MC. Her posture is relaxed, careless, and for some reason Cal’s pulse skyrockets. What is wrong with me? This feeling...

Babe, you don’t have to wait on me

Cal felt disdain at the implications it gave--the faint stench of love. Of something romantic, something he didn’t want to ever feel. Enthralled in his rancor, he doesn’t notice that he’d been speaking the entire time, saying something that felt teasing as it left his mouth. He felt detached from himself as he moved to sit beside MC, casting her a side glance without will. It was as if he was possessed by something else--unable to move but able to freely think and perceive the situation. In response, MC’s eyebrow hikes and her lips lopside; gently sloped. Again, that hauntingly pleasant ache rips through his chest--salt in a scratched open wound from years ago.

Cause I’ve been waitin’ for Heaven above,

Her lips moved and a sentence stemmed from her tongue, but it all slips from his mind. All that was certain to Cal was the continuous thump of his heart rattling his rib cage.

But an angel ain’t what I need

Nothing seemed surreal--everything felt fluid, easily coordinated to flow as easily as a trickling stream. Cal found himself holding on to everything she did, everything she said--despite the fact that he understood none of it. Suddenly he was bewitched with her and everything she was. A symbol of restored security.

Not anyone, you’re the one

Cal’s turn to contribute to their boneless conversation comes and he watches the way her features dip with contempt--the way they coalesce into something fond but certain. He found himself noticing more about her than he had first realized. Times when her smirtle dropped off were substituted by the scintilla of softness wading through her brown eyes, noticeable only when Cal wasn’t focused on what to say next. On autopilot, controlled by something unseen tugging him along on strings, Cal could marvel each expression she allowed to show. Each one was almost as breathtaking as the last with the specific emotion it was based on bringing it to life. He found himself wanting to bury himself into her very essence, wanting to meld with her like she was pool of everything he wanted--a pool of endless comfort, secluded from the world in her bedroom. A safe place. A sanctuary.

More than fun, you’re the sanctuary

Weirdly enough, Cal got the strangest itch that she felt similar--not exactly the same, but alike enough to be considered mutual. A common feeling shared but not prescribed the same title.

'Cause what you want is what I want Sincerity

And for a while, their mindless repartee continues on with empty words and fortuitously pretty expressions. Cal had never been one to daydream much--there was more important things to do than wish the world turned the other way--but it was hard not to fantasize about what could be. About what would it feel like to release the warmth bouncing in her chest--unleash the feelings he so desperately wanted to be fictitious. What would MC do? Would she sink his serendipitous boat or row it with him? How would a world like that look like? Just like this one, with pointless bickering 24/7, or something completely different? Caught in a web of effervescence, Cal didn’t notice that the steady heat cradling his hand was MC’s. An anchor that grabbed him from his active imagination, Cal notes the gentleness of her skin and the way she gripped his fingers carefully--like they’d fall off if she let go. And to be honest, Cal thought they might too with how he couldn’t will them to move even the slightest inch.

Souls that dream alone lie awake,

He hadn’t felt this at ease for a while--not since he had met MC, that was for sure. There were moments of rarity where he could escape all of the hardships of demon hunting and being a parent; moments where the world fell away and a bubble hid them away. Like a disguise in plain sight, it seemed any peace was turned to ash too soon--grains falling from grip. Cal knew this was a moment of that--a ripe example of being content with solitude together. His eyes memorize the gentle angles and sharp swoops characterizing MC’s face. Who knew Caleb North could find someone that soothing to latch onto?

They chatted and bickered and then chatted again, their faces obtuse with sly and challenging smirks. Even though he felt his mouth move and he understood that there were comprehensible words strung out, Cal’s head couldn’t perceive the meaning of it all; like a memory to foggy to make out, or a dream so pleasant that seconds after awaking, it’s lost on you. A weird sort of tension befell their repartee and an even weirder string of anticipation and need foam his thoughts. Like a psychic link between them, Cal could sense that the same thing was actively happening to MC as well. Suddenly, without seemingly any provoking required, Cal wanted to kiss her. He wanted it to happen so badly that it seemed like his heart would crash out of his chest and hop around the room.

I’ll give you something so real

MC’s eyes were intense as they bore into him, searching, seeking for something Cal didn’t understand. The tension between them is hot enough to burn, thick as sunny humidity and as tempting as the aroma of sweet cooking. Like a flower introduced to spring, the tension grows and thrives, winding vines of temptation around them. Without thinking, Cal leans into her personal space, blue eyes roving her face for signs of approval; permission. Fully expecting her to pull away, Cal is astonished as she mirrors his movements until their breaths mingled together. His heart might as well have ascended to overdrive as his thoughts melted into puddles of goo. There was a pause of recollection--consideration of what was about to be done--before the wall between was downed.

If you’ve been waitin’ for fallin’ love

Cal swayed towards her and their lips connected.

Babe, you don’t have to wait on me

The clock on the wall seems to silence and the seconds cease ticking by--almost like time was freezing to keep them swathed in this moment. She felt like velvet caressing his mouth--just the way he had imagined she would. As if choreographed, their tongues dance together in perfect harmony, their lips embracing over and over again.

‘Cause I’ve been waiting for Heaven above,

Cal perceived her taste as something sweet--a pinch of sugar sinking into his taste buds, something he’d never be able to get enough of.

But an angel ain’t what I need

Her teeth gently scrape his bottom lip and he’s caught in the moment, basking in the rejoice he felt here in her arms, kissing her passionately. She began to drown his senses and soon Cal started to wish things he’d never admit aloud.

Pull me oh-so-close,

He wished this kiss would never end--that he could live off her breath, off her lips, off of her kiss hugging his mouth for the rest of his days.

Cause you never know

He wished he could dwell in the sanctuary her proximity granted him and that she’d always give him permission to.

Just how long our lives could be

Their kiss remains platonic and affectionate, not a boundary crossed and not a checkpoint untouched. He pulls her closer, reigning in her warmth, just as all of it is sucked away and he’s left blinking sleepily at a distant crackling flame. It takes a moment for Cal to realize why MC wasn’t with him, enthralled in their own little world of kisses. It was a dream.

The disappointment is debilitating as Cal sits up, frowning to the point of almost pouting. Why couldn’t it have been real? He wanted it to be real. To be wrapped up in the vivacity of MC unrestrained--unguarded. Cal’s head swims with the tangible memory of MC’s mouth on his, exploring him intimately. It had felt so real and so right--like an event meant to happen in the forgoing future. He goes florid as a ripple of heat sounds within his body, loud in the way it made his heart squeal. There was no way, no way that was true; Cal refused to believe it. Was the future paved the way he wanted? That he’d live through the harsh destiny of the prophecy and come to grapple the idea of telling MC how he felt? Thinking this brings the prophecy back the to the forefront of his mind and it ricochets off all of the pleasant thoughts Cal had conjured. What was he supposed to do about that? He had already thought of a solution but it was insanely risky and if they had failed... well, there would be no more Caleb North beyond written on a granite headstone in some graveyard. He swats away the thought almost as fast as he thinks it, frowning to himself. That kind of thinking was going to jinx him in the end; he had to stay strong for the people around him. For Avi, for the troupe, for Ripley... For MC... What if he never got to say what he wanted to?

What if the emotion pulsing in his chest, sheltered by a bone enclosure, never saw the light of day? What if he let MC go without even trying to tell her the storm raging on in him? Cal shoulders the staggering idea aside and sighs, running a hand down his face. Maybe MC would be his cause of death; that’d be something he’d oddly be able to stomach. I’ll just write a note--in case this plan falls through. So she knows what was happening between us is real. Cal swings his legs off of his bed and stands, stretching drowsily. Maybe writing this was going to be the death of him too--except it’d be gruesomely embarrassing and would make him cringe even in the afterlife. Maybe I say too many ‘maybe’s to be surprised when they don’t happen. Cal quickly retrieves a scrap of paper and a pen and returns to his bed. Though the inflation of inspiration he had caught had been enough to motivate him, now it was nothing more than a shriveled echo in his head. Now he was faced with the doubt and uncertainty of writing the actual note.

If you’ve been waitin’ for fallin’ in love,

Cal uncapped the pen and stuck the end of it between between his teeth. What could he write? There was so much that he wanted to say--an avalanche of unsaid desires and feelings sprawling throughout his mind--and yet he didn’t know what to say. Do I go the poetic route and write some sort of evasive and cheesy poem? Do I be straight to the point and write what I want from her? Do I pull it off as a goof and just slide in my feelings? Cal ponders approach after approach, individually weighing the pro’s and con’s of each. Almost all of them seemed too dumb to even fathom except for one. I’ll just be blunt. Nothing’s more powerful than the truth, right? Cal swallows. Execution was solved and now came the hardest part: what words would he scribble onto this note? It was small so nothing like a novel in length. A sentence or two sounded the most reasonable and--even though he doesn’t have a plan set into place--Cal presses the tip of the pen against the paper, mulling over what he should write. Desires of all sorts stream through his head and Cal writes the first that shuttles to the front of his mind.

I want to kiss you.

Babe, you don’t have to wait on me

Blushing, Cal moves to scribble the phrase out and toss it aside; start anew. But he hesitates. It was blunt and didn’t betray the emotions his heart sang for MC so what was the harm in leaving it be? He visualizes a scale in his head and weighs the pro’s and con’s yet again, finding staggering disparity in weight between the two of them in the favor of the pro’s. It’s what I want and besides, it was innocuous. Acquaintances kiss when they want to all the time, right?

‘Cause I’ve been waitin’ for Heaven above,

The sharpshooter struggles to rationalize his feelings for the fifth time that night and just proceeds to give up, folding the note in half before tucking it inside the envelope. Whatever happened happened and if his true feelings are unveiled, then so be it. But oddly enough, he finds solace in the idea of watching her reaction--seeing what emotions she let show. Beyond the stereotypical surprise, of course. Maybe that’d help him understand the depth of her feelings and, coincidentally, his own too.

Maybe he’d find sanctuary right where he was in life--right where he wanted it.

But an angel ain’t what I need

As begrudgingly as Cal confesses, his opinion of romance changed:

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

~FIN~

#cal north #sin with me #lovestruck voltage

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hobbledhobbit · 4 years ago

Text

Paint and Patience

Another part of the tales of the Institute Green. This one following the Illustrator, Ms. Steam. .

A puff of smoke dissipated after swirling and distorting the stars it hovered in front of.

"Fear is strange. Was there any reason not to have it that you can be certain of?"

"For myself?"

"No, of course not." The pale man made a vague gesture into the building from their spot on the balcony. "Their fear."

He took another deep drag, awaiting her answer.

"All mortals have fear, Mr. Pale. The end always looms like the back cover."

He contemplated, letting his gaze take in the curvy and soft form of his coworker. She liked her candy striper outfit most of all and it let the inviting roundness of her form offer refuge in the form of a vast change in scenery from the black iron and gold speckled dark wood of their world.

"That's what I had figured too. But the fear is on all aspects. They love, there's fear; they succeed, there's fear; they give up...you get the idea."

Ms. Steam gave an amused hum before turning to him fully. "They are yellow. Maybe it's not the fear that gives you pause when dealing with them?"

Ms. Steam took the spent cigarette out of his hand and flicked it over the railing. He had a nasty habit of burning the filter when he was lost in thought. The smell was never pleasant.

Mr. Pale was slender and ordinary, his overall countenance being somewhat "beige", though his eyes held a sharp intelligence and his tongue a wicked wit.

Ms. Steam liked talking to the scrivener, he was always agitated over their charges and the conditions in which they were formed. The illustrator had an idea that it may be his only way to show his caring side for anything.

"I believe you're right," he finally said, "I am more enraged by those who live without that...I guess it would be more a concern for the welfare of others than fear…"

"Compassion?"

"Compassion! Yes, thank you. Those that lack compassion for others and make grand swathes of suffering. They hold my ire."

"Had one recently that's got you in this tizzy?"

"No. It'll be later this evening. I would feel bile rising in my throat if I had the capability. I taste the lies and excuses on my tongue and moving through my fingertips to take the last vestiges of their existence to print."

His voice grew ever darker, as he mimicked typing on his typewriter, his hands looking suddenly more large and sharp, his plain face gaining sharp edges and wider eyes, his teeth sharpening and slowly multiplying.

"Sickening, wretched filth!" He gurgled out.

Ms. Steam shrugged, unbothered. "We are only the record keepers. No need to grow attached."

He cleared his throat and fixed his appearance, brushing his blond hair back and suddenly looking more to his normal human-like form.

"We aren't machines, Ms. Steam. Every monster we document can feed our own monstrous nature, teach us our own excuses for screwing over other lives."

"What do you suppose we do for it then? Become judges for life forms that are under our care?"

"Teachers. I think the Evil need to be taught a lesson. We should make an example."

Ms. Steam waited for Mr. Pale to continue, but it was obvious from the way his eyes darted around in his head that the idea was still cooking.

She pat his head and made him look her in the eye.

"When you figure it out, set it up. I'm in thorough need of distraction. But for now, we must tend to our duties."

He gave a small nod and a tight lipped smile. It was no secret that he disliked his job, but he was the best at it.

She took her leave, walking in from the cold of outside to the warm hallway. Her shoes were almost silent upon the hard wood. The reflection of the candy striper outfit was blurred for a moment in the polished floor before it showed Ms. Steam in a plain, floral, flowy dress. She used the key around her neck to unlock her office door and step in.

The yellow glow of the human soul took a moment to take shape. Young and small.

"Sorry for being late," she smiled, "Are you ready for your portrait?"

The 'studio' was large. The ceiling was high and vaulted, the floor had many different colors and textures that one couldn't tell if it was made of dirt, marble, wood, or any of the other things floors are usually made of. There looked to be all sorts of settings along the long wall. Beaches to mansions, forests to kitchenettes, mountains to dumpsters.

The girl looked to be a little younger than a teenager. Short dark hair and brown eyes, sun-kissed skin and a strong jaw. She was in night clothes and looked overwhelmed, looking around from her seat on a fainting chair.

Ms. Steam went to her large desk and picked up some materials. She loaded a small tray with chalk pastels and paint.

"Take your time," she said to the girl, then paused giving her an understanding and patient look. "Tell me what you think is happening. This fear will go away soon, I promise."

"He killed Mom. I went to go hide my little sisters, but I guess he killed me too." She started to cry in earnest. "They're probably so scared. I don't know what to do! There's nothing I can do! I'm dead!"

She sobbed and screamed her dismay while Ms. Steam set up the easel near a beach setting.

"Angels are supposed to help the innocent!" The girl accused from her seat. She smacked her bare feet against the ground and stomped over to Ms. Steam. "You're supposed to protect us and God's supposed to deliver us from evil!"

"Deliver you where?" Ms. Steam turned to the girl, eyebrow slightly raised. She felt it wouldn't be the best option to tell the girl she wasn't an angel.

The girl's righteous fury was snuffed out by the calm of the question. She looked lost and on the verge of more tears.

"I-I don't know. If you're good, evil isn't supposed to happen to you." She sniffled, "And you're supposed to get rewarded for being good."

Ms. Steam sat on a stool to look the girl in the eye and wipe her tears with her skirt.

"I'm sorry, little one. The universe doesn't do good or evil. That's a human thing. Kind or cruel are choices people make."

Ms. Steam offered a hug to the child, who was falling apart again in tears. She accepted the hug, was wrapped in strong arms, and felt light as a cloud.

"The nightmare is over. I know it's scary to not know what comes next. But even your choices mattered so much at the end."

The girl was hiccupping through her sobs, clinging tightly to Ms. Steam. "They're so-s-so little and he's gonna hurt them!"

Ms. Steam rocked her lightly and pet her hair. "I know...what if I brought them here? Would you feel better knowing where they are? They would probably like to know where you are too."

Fear stabbed through the girl and she looked at Ms. Steam. "He killed them too?!"

"Long ago already. They're in my queue."

"What's going to happen?"

"I'm going to paint your picture of what you want to be remembered forever as. You're a good older sister. Brave, just, and with so much love in your heart that your last moments were thinking of nothing but protecting others. Rewards aren't in my job description, but I think that I could work one up for you."

"Holly!" Called two little voices from the fainting couch.

The girl turned and let go of Ms. Steam, running to the two blonde children running towards her in their pajamas.

"Katie! Kathy!" She called to the twins, hugging them tight to her and hurrying her face in their disheveled blonde curls. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" asked Kathy.

"Why are you sad?" asked Katie.

Before Holly could answer, they both noticed the beach and dragged Holly towards it.

Holly noticed that they were all in their bathing suits, and the studio had faded away entirely-there was only the beach then. She saw Ms. Steam still standing there, starting to work on the canvas in front of her. She gave Holly a wink before going back to her work.

Holly looked at her sisters who were already splashing in the water and got to playing with them. They built sand castles and played in the water together. The sun didn't bother any of them much, and they felt full and content.

Ms. Steam stepped back from her work, looking at the picture of Holly pulling her sisters through the water as the little ones kicked up a spray behind them.

The twins looked caught in a moment of trust and fun as Holly tried to teach them to swim.

The studio had phased back to its normal state, the girls now residing as the artwork. Ms.Steam added a single small cloud in the distance as her signature and bowed low at the piece.

"Thank you for the opportunity," she said.

When she stood back up, the canvas had a frame of glittering gold. She took it and wrapped it in plain brown paper before placing it in an adjacent room for delivery.

Ms. Steam dealt more with children and those that didn't have a command over their language. She found that younger children were more accepting of their fates than older ones. Responsibility and shame hadn't really had a chance to stick in yet and make them second guess everything.

She went about putting away her supplies and let out a sigh. She placed the last brush behind her ear and exited her studio. So long as her things weren’t all in place, the next soul wouldn’t show up.

The door she approached was labeled “Mr. Slow: Security” on a gold plaque. She knocked and entered, finding the large form of her colleague sitting at his desk, shining his shoes. He looked up boredly, eyes crinkling at the side once he recognized his visitor.

“Ms. Steam. What an unexpected and fun surprise. What brings you to my office?” His voice was deep and had an edge of threat to it. Unfortunately for Mr. Slow, she had taken the centuries to become immune to his specific charm.

“Mischief brings me here, Bacchus. Do you intend on participating or trying to subdue?” She leaned on the doorway, pushing her hair behind an ear. “I do so hate to lose out on the fun because someone had to distract you.”

Mr. Slow sat up and put his hands on his desk. “So long as the mischief isn’t brought to these halls, there’s no reason for us to tussle. I do have a feeling that I will be having to teach Mr. Pale a lesson later today, but that won’t likely interfere.”

This was met with an amused hum. She covered her mouth to feign hiding a smile, “I am starting to think Bartleby likes your teaching method. You boys and your roughhousing.”

Mr. Slow went back to shining his shoes, “I’ve been informed, Ms. Steam. Go back to your room. The day isn’t out yet, no matter how many clients you put in a single frame. Only the frame counts.”

“Pushy,” she teased, straightening herself out. “I’ll see you at the diner afterwards, Mr. Slow.”

The door closed, leaving Mr. Slow alone. He leaned back in his chair and thought about the conversation he had overheard on the balcony during his rounds. Redirecting fear could be a fun way to spend an afternoon.

#inkwell writes #Institute Green #Afterlife and those who work the shifts #Ms. Steam #Mr. Pale #Mr. Slow

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jynxes · 4 years ago

Text

Leather n’ Red - Reggie Peters

Summary: Much like the deceased boys of Sunset Curve, Duchess died right before the gig that could’ve been her band’s big break. Thing is, she left the dark room a little earlier than they did, made a couple friends and learned a few tricks. What will happen when she and the boys can be seen when singing with Julie, the only alive person that can see them all?

Paring: Reggie Peters x Duchess Himura (OC)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: One f-bomb dropped, 2020 slang and the boys being confused

Thank you to @beansisarat7 for beta reading this chapter for me!

A/N: Here’s the second chapter! A quick little disclaimer, I’ve never actually been clubbing, so I’m sorry if this isn’t really right. That being said, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially since I did it instead of doing homework, anyway, I hope you enjoy!

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

Chapter 2 // No cap, but go off I guess

After hanging out in the garage for a bit, Luke poofs us somewhere. The guys grunt a little, not used to poofing everywhere.

Reggie looks down at himself for a second, letting out a "Huh?"

We all look out below us onto a familiar street, watching people passing on the sidewalk in silence.

Luke breaks it, "Hey, I know being dead isn't our first choice, but I mean, it sure is easy getting around."

"It's like, super easy to get everywhere," I agree.

"Easy for you, maybe," Reggie says, "I lost my shirt on that one," he gestures to his bare torso. I let my eyes linger a little longer than they should've.

Then his shirt poofs back and I let out an almost inaudible, "aww." Based on the look Alex gave me it wasn't as quiet as I meant for it to be.

"Ooh never mind! There it is," Reggie says, happy his shirt is back and Luke chuckles.

Alex and I notice the sound of neon buzzing and look up to see a sign for the Orpheum.

"Okay, so, why'd you bring us here?" Alex asks, "Just another painful reminder of where we never got to play?"

"Yeah, thanks Luke, not cool," I back him up, Luke and Reggie look up to the sign before Luke brings his eyes back to Alex and I.

"I mean, dudes, the game isn't over yet," Luke says before poofing us down onto the pavement below and begins walking, "I'm telling you, we've been given a second chance. Let's find some music. Let's see how many clubs we can hit before sunrise."

"We're going clubbing! A'right!" I exclaim, getting excited and giving Luke a high five.

We keep walking for a second when we realize Alex isn't with us, we turn around, walking backwards, "Hey Alex, you coming?" Luke asks.

"Let's go!" Reggie yells to him.

"We're partying tonight!" I yell before poofing away the red and black striped sweater below my AC/DC graphic tee.

"So, where are we hitting first?" Alex asks, running to catch up to us.

"I, uh, I actually have no idea," Luke reveals.

"Okay, don't worry, I know a few places," I say confidently before remembering that they think I arrived at the same time as them, "If they're still here that is."

"Okay, tell us, where we heading first?" Reggie grins excitedly.

"We're gonna see if we can get into The Doe," I tell them, "It's about three blocks over," and with that I poof us to The Doe.

The boys look at the sign for the club, and then to the line to get in. If we were alive then we'd have to wait like an hour to get in, but since we're ghosts we can sneak in in two seconds.

"Come on!" I say, grabbing their arms and dragging them in.

There's some music playing, but it's not any 90s songs, nothing they'd find familiar. It takes me a second but I'm pretty sure it's that band named 5 Seconds of Summer or something, Billy's been trying to get me up to date with music and I've been doing fine so far.

"She looks so perfect standing there

In my American Apparel underwear,"

Yup, it's 5SOS, Billy would be proud.

"Wow," Reggie says, looking around at all the lights and people on the dancefloor.

"Yeah," I smile, "What d'you think? Is music different now?"

"Well, this is one song, but it's pretty good, no Sunset Curve though," he grins.

"Yeah, I agree. But it's pop rock, so it won't be as full on as Sunset Curve."

"Wanna dance?" he asks me, extending a hand for me to take.

'Fuck it,' I think, "Sure," I take his hand and we begin to dance. It's not really a song you can dance with a partner to, unless you're grinding I guess, but we make it work, dancing next to each other and he spins me every now and then which is fun.

When the song finishes we go to check out what Alex and Luke are doing. When we find them they're looking at the DJ's playlist, and they are skimming through the names trying to figure out which are rock bands and which they think would be best to listen to.

"Luke," I say, taking his arm, "Just let the DJ play her playlist. If you wanna hear the new music then just listen to it."

"But, Duchess, I wanna hear the competition. I wanna find out what rock bands are like now!" he protests.

"Please Luke?" I say, tugging on his arm again, "I'll dance with you?" I offer.

"Ugh, fine, only because I can't say no to a pretty girl that wants to dance."

"Sure you can't Patterson," I smirk, pulling him onto the dance floor as a slower song begins. It takes me a second until I recognize it as a song by the Vamps, Somebody to You.

"Look at me now, I'm falling

I can't even talk, still stuttering,"

We hold hands and dance, lip-synching to a song we don't even know, laughing when we clearly mess up. He spins me around a couple times, and I dip him at the end of one of the choruses making us burst into giggles. I'm really starting to like hanging out with the boys, they're great fun to be around.

The song ends and we hug, "So," I begin, "What did you think of that song?"

"Well, it's not rock, and it's definitely not Sunset Curve," I roll my eyes at these observations, "But it was good, I had fun dancing to it."

"See? Just because it's not rock doesn't mean it's trash," I laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

I turn to Reggie and Alex before taking a step towards Alex, "Well, since I've danced with these two morons, I guess I owe you a dance?"

I put my hand out for him to take and after looking to Reggie and Luke, who both nod at him, he looks back to me and takes my hand.

The song we dance to is Girls Like You by Maroon 5. It's a nice song, slower and a pop rock song that's more pop than rock. We both have a lot of fun doing turns and exaggeratedly pointing to each other for every,

"When I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah,"

Alex is definitely a dancer, and a good one at that. We both have fun dancing more hip-hop when we get to Cardi's verse and we're laughing the entire time.

When the song ends we join the other two and they just look at us both wide eyed.

"What?" we ask.

"You two really like to dance," Reggie says.

"Yeah, guess Alex isn't the only dancer in the group now," Luke comments. Oh, if only you knew.

"So, next club?" I ask.

"Sure, where to next?" Reggie asks me.

I think for a bit before deciding, "How about we go to Okay?"

"Okay?" the boys chorus.

"Yeah, Okay, it's a club, you down?"

The boys exchange a look before shrugging, "Sure," Luke says, "Take us to Okay."

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

I take the guys to Okay and we dance for a bit, Okay plays a few older songs from like the 2000s and the 90s, so we actually know the words to these songs. We're goofing about and dancing when Reggie and I bump into someone, we exchange a look before looking back at the person we bumped into.

The person has short green hair, a long sleeved black and white top and a black skirt with black suspenders seemingly holding it up, they look great.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," they say before realizing what just happened. "Ghosts?"

"Yeah, we're ghosts, I'm Duchess," I tell them.

"And I'm Reggie," Reggie says, putting out his hand to shake theirs.

"Well, I'm Kai," Kai says, shaking Reggie's hand," And in case you were wondering I use they/them pronouns."

"They— th- what?" Reggie stammers, confused.

"Oh, uh, Kai, Reggie died in the 90s and only just left the dark room, he's still catching up," I explain to them.

"Oh, that's okay, I can explain if you want," Kai offers, and Reggie nods his head.

"When we refer to people we use pronouns, right?" Reggie nods again, "Well, instead of using he/him or she/her, I use they. Like what you would do if you didn't know if someone was a he or a she. Think of it like you found a wallet, you'd say 'oh, someone left their wallet here, I'll leave it so that they can find it,' do you follow?"

"Yeah, I do. Thanks for teaching me," Reggie smiles, still slightly embarrassed, "I use he/him pronouns, is that right?"

"Yeah, it is," I smile, "And I use she/her."

"Well, now that we're properly introduced, do you wanna come meet my friends?" Kai asks.

"Sure, can we go get our friends, Alex and Luke?" I ask.

"Sure, go ahead," Kai says, "We'll be over in the booth over there," they point to a booth in the corner of the club.

They walk to their both and Reggie and I scramble to find Alex and Luke. When we do we tell them we found other ghosts and Reggie explains to them Kai's pronouns, he seemed really proud to be educating them and it was honestly adorable.

We go over to the booth Kai pointed out to us and meet their friends, Mel, who died in 2017, is cis and uses she/her and Eli, who died in 2019, is trans and uses he/him. They're really cool people who told us a lot about newer music, and what it's like being a ghost. They also told us that they like to prank alive people even though they don't really know how to do much as ghosts.

"Just because you can't touch 'em doesn't mean you can't mess with 'em," Eli says with an evil grin.

"What do you mean?" Luke asks.

"Well, for instance, they can't feel your skin, but they can feel fabric and texture," Mel explains, "They can feel the wetness of water on your hand but not your hand. Ya get me?"

"Yeah, I get you."

"I know this is off topic but tbh I don't care, Luke, your fit is so 90s but like it's also fire," Eli compliments.

"Uhhhh," the guys sit with their mouths open, not knowing what to say, because they are not up to date with 2020 slang.

"Eli, dude, they're literally from the 90s," I laugh, "They highkey have no clue what you're saying."

"Oohhh, tea," Mel gasps.

"Yeah, they make knowing basic slang seem like a flex," I giggle.

"Cap, that's gotta be cap," Eli shakes his head.

"No cap, but go off I guess," I shrug.

"Damn, no need to be salty."

"I'm not salty, they're just himbos."

"They're himbos?" Mel asks, "You sure?"

"Well, yeah, but like they also create a himbo when combined. Luke is beefy, you see those arms? And Reggie is dumb of ass," I say before turning to Reggie, "said with love. And Alex is pure of heart. Ergo, they create himbo."

"Can't argue with that logic, but I'm shook, how do you understand what we're saying, and they don't?"

"Well, first off I died in 2005, second off, I've been here a little bit longer than they have, that's why I have the 200 IQ plays that they don't."

"Still don't know what you're saying," Reggie says.

"Stop messing with them," Kai scolds, "I'm sorry about them, I died in 2014 and spent a little while in the dark room, it took me a while to figure out what they were saying."

"It's fine," Alex says, "We just, uh, just have a lot to catch up on I guess."

"You do, but it's getting late and if we don't yeet ourselves back home then Angel is gonna kill us, again," Eli says.

"Bet!" Mel agrees.

"We gotta get going, is what they mean, but we'll see you around?" Kai asks.

"Of course," I say, "See ya."

"Bye guys," they all say.

"Bye," the guys reply before Kai, Eli, and Mel poof away.

"Shall we hit the next club?" I ask the guys and they nod. And so I take them to what will be our final club of the night, a place called Midnight.

I poof us there and the guys drag me to a table before all turning to me.

"What?" I question, confused.

"How the hell do you know all that stuff?" Luke interrogates me.

"Yeah, I thought you showed up same time as us," Alex adds on.

"And what's a himbo?" Reggie asks, the guys look at him, "What? It's a valid question!"

"Okay, well, I didn't appear into the afterlife with you," I elucidate, "I just became visible to Julie with you guys. I've been here for like a month and a half already."

"A month and a half? And you didn't think to tell us?!" Alex all but yells at me.

"Sorry! I was confused when I was brought to you and Julie and then I realized who you were, and then I found out Julie could see me! Sorry if I didn't spill my life story to you," I sass.

"Yeah, no that makes sense," Reggie agrees.

"Yeah, I mean it's not every day you meet your music idols," Luke says arrogantly.

"And it's definitely not every day you realize they're huge dorks either," I say, pushing Luke's shoulder gently and he laughs.

"Reggie did raise a good question earlier though," Luke says.

"Oh? And what is that?" I ask.

"What is a himbo?"

"Ah, no. You're not ready to learn that yet."

"What do you mean?" Alex questions.

"You're just not ready. Trust me on that. Now come on, do we wanna stay here or will I show you some new things in LA?"

"Let's stay here a bit," Luke suggests, and the boys agree.

"Okay, let's dance then," I say grabbing them to the dance floor. It's definitely different clubbing as a ghost, there's no eating or drinking and no mingling unless you meet other ghosts.

After a bit of dancing the music quiets down, it's still playing but if you sang into the mic onstage then you could drown it out. I look to Reggie and he smiles at me, I nod to the mic and he taps Luke's shoulder and points to the mic, we smile and go onstage.

I look at the DJ's playlist and find a song that would absolutely be fun to sing with the boys. It's a song by Green Day and so although it came out in 2004, they'll still know the band. Before I put it on, I explain to them that although yes, the song does have a slur in it, it was meant as a reclamation and beyond that we can just not sing it, we agreed on the latter. I hit play on the karaoke option and make sure the boys can see the lyrics.

And so we begin as any normal person would start a song, screaming at the top of our lungs,

"DON'T WANNA BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT

DON'T WANT A NATION UNDER THE NEW MANIA,"

Singing with the boys was so much fun, honestly, I want to sing with them again for sure! People are confused when we finish because no one was up on the stage and we don't exactly sound like Green Day, but they enjoyed it, nonetheless.

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

After staying in the club for a while the boys decided that they did want me to take them around the city. I show them all the new venues and places where bands play gigs, I show them what places shut down and what's there in their place.

The guys immediately stopped the tour when I revealed that I learned a couple ghosting tricks from my ghost friend. They really wanted to see what I could do, I can't really do much, but I showed them regardless. I lifted a couple things and set off a couple car alarms but I couldn't do much other than that. The guys found it really cool though, I gotta introduce them to Billy at some point.

The sun starts to rise and we decide that we need to start getting back to the Molina house, the boys want to wander for a bit longer, but I decide to go back to go check on Carlos, he's gotta be a little confused, especially after seeing Julie see me last night.

I poof to the door outside his room and knock quietly before hearing Carlos saying, "Come in."

"Hey Carlito," I smile after walking through the door.

"Hey Dee," he smiles, sitting on his bed, "What's up?"

"I just thought you'd want to know what's going on. Ya know, because of last night."

"Oh, yeah, could Julie see you?"

"Yeah, she, uh, she can."

"She can see you? How?!"

"Well, it's a long story, and I'm not 100% sure how she can see me either, but she can," I then whisper to myself, "I really don't understand why she can see the others and you can't though."

"What?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing. So, what's new, what are you gonna do today?" I deflect.

"Since we're moving, I have to pack my room, which means cleaning under my bed, and we both know that I don't wanna clean under my bed," the boy says, shaking his head.

"Hey!" I say, offended, "You found my demo under your bed!"

"Yeah, and who knows, I might find more demos and summon more demon ghosts!"

"I'm not a demon!" I protest, "I'm a ghost! A normal ghost, just tryna get through the afterlife."

"That's fair, well, I gotta get ready for school, but I'll see you after?"

"Yeah, of course Calo," I assure him, "I'll see you later."

"Bye DeeDee."

And with that I poof to the guys, they were still wandering around LA and when I show up we all decide to go back to the studio.

We all poof into the back of the studio and we hear Julie singing and playing the piano. This is surprising to the boys because she told them that she doesn't play, and it's surprising for me because I know that she hasn't played since her mom died, so it's a little crazy for all of us.

"Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you When you feel lost Relight that spark, time to come out of the dark Wake up, mm-mm, wake up"

We all look at each other in awe of Julie. This girl has an incredible voice and she plays the piano amazingly, honestly I'm glad she's playing again, depriving the world of her talent is almost criminal!

When she's done, Julie lifts the last sheet of music off the piano reading the note that her mom left at the bottom of it before hugging it and crying softly.

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

#reggie x oc #reggie peters fanfic #reggie peters fanfiction #reggie peters x oc #reggie peters #reginald peters fanfic #reginald peters fanfiction #reginald peters #reginald peters x oc #duchess himura #reggie x duchess himura #leather n’ red #nyxiefics #nyxie writes

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illusionwrites · 5 years ago

Text

—As the sun starts setting and the stars light the sky, walls fall and emotions are harder to hide.

Genre: College AU | Fluff | Angst | Smut — Warning: drinking

Word Count: 11,287

< story index >

Chapter 3: Soft Moonlight

You can’t remember the last time you had felt so uneasy yet uncomfortably serene at the same time, contradiction so strong you didn’t know whether to act out of instinct or calculated moves. It’s pretty normal to forget how to commonly talk to strangers but… was it normal for you to forget how your own brain worked. What is your personality like? What defines you in terms of morality? All of those silly yet important things raced through your mind the moment Jimin waved at you, signaling a possible interaction once you go down there.

It’s hard to put your body back into function after dealing with symptoms of addiction. You were no longer the crazy and lively party animal you ought to be under the effects of popular drinks given by random guys. The first days felt raw, empty, without a drop of your old self. You forgot what it felt like to be so open to your heart, your thoughts, the sea of hidden ideas that defined you, that made you the unique girl you used to be before. You still struggle, you’re still embarrassed of having to think before you speak, to be yourself rather than what you wished you’d be. You had to be in element for you to blend into the environment, to relax and let yourself go. New environments meant new adaptations, and that was scarier than any man, ever.

As Jimin’s innocent glint waved towards your figure, it was time to take steps down. Were you scared? Absolutely.

Your short self looked goofy getting swooned by the sassy little dog, trying your best to evade eye contact with anybody until you were closer. The sand felt soft, rich in texture and easy to walk along, even to sit on. Just then, a minute later, you’re right in front of Namjoon and the other two. The three of them looked straight out of a magazine cover, pale pastel tank tops (Namjoon’s was wet so pretty transparent also), colorful tropical flowers in their bathing suits and bare feet to accompany it. There’s one you don’t recognize, so he’s the first you look at directly with the still heavy sleepy eyelids. Blurry Taehyung and Jungkook are still lost in the beach background.

“I was just talking to these other guys staying at the building right next to us, they booked this place for a week too,” your known friend quickly began, pointing towards the complex next to where you came from. Since Joon is the big talker, words weren’t needed from you yet. “This is Jimin and Hoseok, they’re college students like us. This is Y/N,” he recited with a dimple smile, letting you finally hear this man’s name. Jimin. It suits him, sounds ideal for someone like him: short and cute.

His reaction to your following grin mimicked yours, a side smile as if you were meeting for the first time. He only whispered a small ‘Hey’ and you instantly swayed your sunlit orbs to the other individual. Hoseok seemed already like such a character, immediately extending his hand to you with a polite wink. You don’t even know how to act, so you simply shake it and chuckle along with him with a wider smirk. Smile so bright that the sun would be jealous, he already appeared to be so nice.

Yeontan barked and growled at the two individuals, yanking at his leash. “Oh, and this is Yeontan, belongs to the one on the paddleboard,” he added before you could even talk about him. Hoseok seemed to gush quickly over the cute little rascal, but after failed attempts at trying to get Tannie to be loved by the new friend, you all laughed and resumed to chatter about whatever they were previously discussing.

All the while you tried not to stare so bluntly, and each time you looked down to where Tannie was, he would look over at you just as discreetly. But it was awkward, everyone was talking and you were just… there.

Joon had resorted to talk about his degree and many Psychology classes to which you knew nothing about, leaving you with only Yeontan to observe as a distraction because the others were all ears. Your silence soon grew to make you uneasy, that’s when your feet took steps away from them, him. Forgetting normal interactions was common for you, the part where one has to try to initiate conversation didn’t always occur naturally. So, since you didn’t have anything exciting to bring, it only left you the choice of walking away from the crowdy and joyful voices.

You silently cursed at yourself walking across to where Jungkook had been recording, not really talking to him but rather enjoying how the wind blew in that certain angle through your locks of hair. Yeontan was busy battling with the waves, running after them when they retreated but escaping once they were ready to splash against the shore.

Minutes passed as you blinked only a few times by the view of the sun touching the sea, alone in such a wonderful area with nothing to study for but your inner torments. There was only yourself, ideas, thoughts, resolutions. Sandals now gone, your feet let the soaked sand trap them to get between your toes. It called you out, to start thinking about the things you really want in life to search for new beginnings, but how come the only small thing that’s bothering you right now i—

“—Hi,” you heard right next to your shoulder, making you immediately turn your head over with a slight jump. Jimin’s voice was low, concerned by your reaction. Hands behind his back as if he was hesitant to get any closer, he had been standing there for a while now, just casually staring at your concentrated features with a soft smile.

“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you muttered with a small chuckle, combing loose strands behind your ear so he could see your face better since the wind tried to push your hair onto your nose.

His eyes turned your own quite softer with his serenity, “Heh, it’s okay. You looked pretty focused so I didn’t want to bother. It’s Y/N, right?” Jimin asked, glinting his eyes to make sure he had pronounced it right, and you nod warmly. With how you left the conversation in such a short notice, his eyes had continued to follow you over to the trail of the shore. So you were a little awkward, but he didn’t mind. In the same way that you casually looked over at him, he also glanced occasionally.

It was instant, nothing planned or calculated, things that just happen because it’s there. Something tingled, spiked excitement inside, wanting to burst while you wanted to compress them. He wanted that opportunity, a chance to get to know you, something you wouldn’t have thought of him doing at all. “Nice to formally meet you now that”—he pointed down to the happy pup—“he’s not escaping anywhere.”

“Yeah.” His bold and wide expressions are everything, so it’s easy to laugh along with him and ease into it slowly but surely. It’s more comfortable than before, the air around you two. You shake your head after chuckling and looking down embarrassed at the silly animal, the reason you two met in the first place. “Had to leash him, he’s a bit of a pain in the butt.”

Jimin continued to laugh at the way the dog played with the waves hitting the shore, so in a swift move he crouched down while it was distracted. In that pose, the breeze hit his hair so naturally that you even saw some of his forehead showing in a nice manner. God, you need to stop noticing every single detail.

“Such a cute pain in the butt~” he mumbled with a duck face and a cooey tone over to it, attempting for the second time to bond with the adorable pet. Even Yeontan fell prisoner to his charm after he started petting the long fluffy fur at his nape. The dog turned happy with his wagging tail at the touch, causing Jimin to stare up at you with casual and confident amusement.

“So he likes you now…”

“They always open up after the first time,” he answered and wiped his hands after pushing himself up to meet you at face level once again, hiding them back in his pockets as he continued talking in that whispered tone, yet it was so vivid sounding.

For a moment, you two shared the same eye contact. Don’t know if for the same reasons, but it caused you both to look away quickly to the splashing waves. The sun touched the water with a dark and orange highlight, closer to setting by the passing of the minutes under the clouds. “Your friend Namjoon is really nice, by the way,” he added while scratching his head.

“Yes, he’s very fun. How did you guys meet though?”

“We were going to rent out the paddleboard too so, we met at the office and decided to split the bill between the four of us in the end,” he explained and then scratched the back of his head, “I was thinking of using it today, but I think Taehyung will take a while…”

Just as he said that, you glanced over to where Tae was still paddling on the east side of the beach. His arms were immersed in his task with determination, ankle strapped on and sunglasses right over his head. Jungkook was still walking further and further away with his calves under the water, not really taking any more pictures and simply strolling himself across the clear ocean. You thank Tae that he’s still busy with the board, it meant you could still talk to Jimin for a while more. “Yeah”—you choked on the small chuckle—“he doesn’t look like he’s coming back before the sun sets,” you shrugged lazily.

Jimin saw it in slow motion, the little blush on your cheeks appearing just when the sun hits your face, rosy enough to think that it might be sunburn. “You know”—by his words you stared at him questionably—“Hoseok and I aren’t doing anything tonight, so you can tell your friends to—“

“Hey guys!” you both turned your head over to the side where a loud Namjoon called over. Perfect timing. “Hoseok’s calling you, dude,” he stated with his thumb pointing backwards to where their apartment is located. You won’t lie when you think that maybe Joon noticed how Jimin had separated himself from the guys to go over and talk to you, but if it’s a way to be overprotective then you’ll hit him later.

So much for a longer conversation… Jimin’s eyes popped up and started walking again, but not before spilling a ‘Thanks’ over to your best friend and the other intervened as if he had forgotten to say something, “Oh! Um Jimin, Hoseok told me we should get together later so… around eight we’ll be over there, okay?

”With clueless eyes, Jimin angled his head over to both of you and very innocently answered, “Yeah, seems cool, see you guys later then.” At the very last words he looked at you with a soft expression, making you press your lips together and nod in goodbye. Without so much of a word exchanged between you and Namjoon, you drag Yeontan back to the house as Jimin headed in the opposite direction. Namjoon stared at both of you intently, clueless for the first time in forever. You on the other hand could only think, were you really going to their place later?

The sky had begun to set completely, the source of light fading slowly. And yet still, the stranger whose name was now known as Jimin, lured inside your mind.

“I saw that,” Hoseok points out when Jimin entered through the front door, attacking him out of nowhere but with the intention of simply messing around with his roommate.

Hence his friend’s tone, Jimin resumed to chuckle and head straight for the refrigerator to pull out his half empty water bottle from the top shelf. After a big sip of the cold beverage with a small drop escaping past his jaw, he swallowed loudly and kept staring at the glowing light of the fridge. “Saw what, Hobi?” The man rolled his eyes, yet his cheeks flushed immediately.

“Ahahahaaaa… No wonder you were so fond about the tiny dog…”

Jimin was being very careful in his moves, which included what he would tell his college buddy about you. No business of his was meant to be shared as if you were some sort of trophy, he’s just getting to know you more. And who knows, some people lose interest after a while of meeting someone, even he himself saw that as a possibility considering you were so… quiet. Even if it will be sort of obvious from the particular attention he will give you, Jimin doesn’t plan to expose himself like that. He’s rather reserved in his personal business, but he had you on the radar since this morning, that’s all he knows.

Even Hoseok knew it was useless to continue to ramble on after that sarcastic remark, it meant his bestie didn’t want to speak about it and left the conversation hanging there. He resorted to grab a towel and head for the shared bathroom, whistling a catchy tune as he disappeared from Jimin’s views. Just before the bathroom door closed, his twinkly eyes smiled as his cheeks rose up with a sort of wicked grin; he didn't need Jimin to explain himself. He knows damn well that he had invited Namjoon and his friends over for that very reason: to get a story.

“Hey, hey! Woah woah! What’re you doing?!” Hoseok exclaimed, his hand coming to life in the middle of the circle created by the other five players. It pointed over to the bundle of cards stacked together as laughter started arising but he was still in competitive confusion over the move Taehyung just made with a happy shout. “Why are you throwing a blue +2 card on the stack?! You need to draw the four cards you cheater!”

“Huh? You called it blue which means I can throw this to pass it on to Jungkook and then he draws six!” Tae bit back with wide eyes, taking the card and placing it back with a confident swift. Sassy as ever. His boxy smile couldn’t hold in how ridiculous the older man sounded to his ears.

“But that’s not even an official rule!”

“Of course it is! We’ve always played like this, right?” Now your best friend turned over to you, who simply put your hands up in surrender, shaking your head as the others laughed at the tipsy men causing a scene. If you’re honest, these Uno people have changed the rules so many times you guys often played with many rules applied, now it has become a mess. Namjoon could only facepalm himself in embarrassment over these two grown men fighting over a silly game, but in the little time he’s known Hoseok he can confirm he shares the same unique brain cell with the younger males by his quirky and fun nature.

Your mind wandered back to the spirited Taehyung and Jungkook’s never ending laughter over the whole scenario, making fun of the older guy for his weird refutes. “Do you live under a rock?! Are you like—foreigners or something?!” Even Jimin had to bang his fist on the floor to keep himself from bursting out in laughter, his other hand grabbing ahold of his roommate’s shoulder to stay in balance and not fall backwards. He sort of looked like had his spare of drinks also.

And he goes wild when he laughs. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol acting up in his system, but Jimin oozes charisma. He often covered his face with anything he saw when embarrassed, either behind Hoseok’s shoulder like a child when Namjoon had to draw several cards, or he simply stumbled back to hide behind his own hands when Jungkook forgot to shout ‘uno!’. Jimin’s million apologies followed an innocent pout when given more cards in hand, not allowing you to get a glimpse of his radiant white smile. Even so, you still got to enjoy his adorable gestures and almost some sort of shy nature, if he was ever shy at all.

It was so weird, you never figured him to look that soft and casual, wearing simply an ordinary t-shirt and shorts knowing he had so much body to expose. The entire room grows contagious over his charming crescent moons when he’s chuckling or simply smiling, you found yourself grinning involuntarily whenever you crossed eye contact with him in front of you. You had to stay low so your buddies didn’t notice the slight glances you two exchanged by accident every now and then. He wasn't even focused on winning, and neither were you, attention was already committed to something (or someone) else.

It was inevitable not to stare at him throughout the night. Ever since you arrived and saw him working his way on the small cooler, putting down drinks and concentrating on serving everyone was enough to keep you distracted from the rest. Now sitting down, with all the other boys playing a ‘friendly’ game of Uno, you had him on the other side of the circle cause Namjoon and Kookie had filled in the spot on either side of you before the game could even start. You thank them silently, you don’t know if you could take having him that close.

‘Oh, are you cold?’ he would mouth to you every now and then, but you declined even if you felt like freezing to death. You knew he would be capable of offering you something of his. You don’t want to know how he smells either, fearing its scent would intensify the rude appearance of butterflies raging inside you.

—What butterflies?—you’d ask. Well, if getting nervous when a very cute man paid that much attention to you was a valid reason, then there it was. You still can’t pinpoint what is it about him that attracted you since you saw him chasing Yeontan this morning, but now you had him closer than before and your head was tickling.

And you’re stupid if you’re thinking he doesn’t notice. Surely he has been ignoring you during the game and talking more with the guys rather than you, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t visual interaction. Starting from the small nibs your teeth planted on your lip as you thought about which card was more strategic to throw, right down to your furrowed brows and timid smile when you tried to guess what color the others were missing, even the way you frowned when Namjoon made you draw two cards from the pack. All of it drove you to him somehow.

Because Namjoon had begun to eye him quite more this evening, he took small advantages to his favor without being caught by your suspicious roommate. Hoseok is not to be excused either, he often threw surprise jokes at you which indirectly referred to Jimin himself, which only earned him more than enough glares from the smaller student.

“Well I will google it to see if it’s true!” Hoseok added with disbelief, making everyone else in the circle roll their eyes at the surprise delay they have created. You just wanted to stop playing already, getting more hyped about the discussion than the actual card game.

“Oh, guys just forget the official ruuuules~” Taehyung whined, shooting his slurred words to the man beside him whose smirk seemed painted and permanent in mischief, talking informally to the older male. It had even provoked the forgotten Yeontan to bark at them from its cage near the entrance while you all were around the living room area, speaking defensively for his owner. “Jungkook’s only got one card!” Soon Kookie held up his second ‘uno’ hand while the rest of you still had about four to five cards each, laughing menacingly. The rest of the sane people in the small circle looked at each other, barely containing their laughter and speaking in signs as to how the fuck should they react to this.

“Aish, why don’t we just call it quits and let Jungkook win already? We’ve been playing the same round for about half an hour, let’s take a break.” Namjoon now had the upper hand and started speaking aloud over to the two guys still conversing and Hoseok’s typing angrily on his phone.

You nodded your head almost instantly, thanking his bright mind for deciding to let this drunk Uno game slide. In that instant, you held your giggles when you saw Jimin pout at you secretly, showing you he had around three +4 cards in his delicate hand, he also stifled his own unique laughter.

“Fine by me. Ha!” He added while throwing away his last card that wasn’t even in the color scheme the board had possessed, but it’s a lost cause now. You giggled at Hoseok’s surprised face and unique expressions, he seemed to fit way too much into your crew’s charismatic and funny aura just the same. Meanwhile everyone had gotten up to walk over to where the beers and alcoholic beverages sat, you snuck yourself over to the fridge by the kitchen aisle in search of some water. You haven’t indulged in anything in the last months so it felt sort of weird to be surrounded by all these college guys drinking, Kookie had given you a surprised face when cups were passed around, snapping your cup into his hand discreetly. Hoseok and Jimin failed to notice you weren’t drinking anything.

Even if you had wanted to try some of those exotic mixtures Hoseok served, you know better than to start at it again. You’re a bit suffocated by the smell of scotch filling the room, the fruity drinks had added their own aroma to finish off whatever these guys were sipping, but it didn’t settle well in your nostril. You thank Hoseok for not offering you anything else, you didn’t want to go near it. It hurt your clouded mind, almost burned your throat as if you were to gag.

There’s some hip hop tracks slowly playing in a distant background while you watch Hoseok show Taehyung some CD’s he took out from his room, how everyone bonds and you’re simply the couch potato standing so far away from the rest. If you knew that they’d be serving that many rounds of drinks between themselves, you would’ve stayed home to prevent being so left out. It’s purely coincidental that you find Jimin’s warm irises getting closer to you soon after, walking discreetly to grab some liquor from the cabinet next to you and the round of munchies on the table.

You pushed your bare legs back and slid your arms from the island before he crouched down to grab his secret crock hidden in the back of the second drawer. You followed his maneuvers to open the cap off the crystal clear bottle and then suddenly both of you jump when you heard a loud pop! and the cap was finally opened before your eyes.

With the kitchen light turned on, you notice his skin had red marks hinting a tan to come along and maybe he washed his hair too, it was curlier and disheveled cutely as it dried naturally. As if he could feel your baby jewels on him, he turned over with a handsome, yet apologetic, glint in his gaze. “You certainly look like you don’t want to be here,” he chuckled lightly.

His words were soft, but you immediately caught on his clingy question filled with some sort of wickedness. You did look quite bored out of your mind, but if you were going to say you came just for him you’d probably scare the guy. You’ll be honest still, even if he may be a little drunk to catch any sort of initiative from you, the proximity is somewhat nice, it didn’t feel pushy or persistent in any way with how relaxed he sounded talking to you.

“This isn’t exactly my… environment, i-if you know what I mean,” you said while rolling your eyes around the room.

The little comment made his eyebrows shoot up suspiciously, as if you were sort of inventing an excuse or giving him the cold shoulder. And you don’t wanna come out as bitter or completely stubborn, so you had to explain further to at least have a conversation that lasted more than simply three lines. “I don’t drink,” you elaborated, pointing over to the pricy material in his hands and then showing him the sparkly water bottle with a sarcastic smile, then he nodded in realization.

Just before he could open his mouth again, loud manly screams came across just a few feet away from you both. There lied the two taller males shouting out some incoherent slangs while one of them held up a crystal bottle, similar to Jimin’s, opened in the air. Namjoon had taken out his phone and proceeded to record with his camera as Hoseok went on to tip over the fiery drink down Jungkook’s throat who kneeled over to capture for several seconds what will be one of the worst decisions he has ever made in his life.

“Jung-kook! Jung-kook! Jung-kook! Woooooo!” After standing up and swallowing the pit down his throat, he shook his head many times in pain from the raging burn he must be feeling but the young soul felt very accomplished giving out high-fives to the evil helpers. Taehyung kept an eye on you from afar, knowing exactly how you would feel about the recent view.

You won’t lie, you had felt as if that yellowish thing had gone down your own tongue while invoking very unpleasant memories of you being in that same position. Flashbacks were always there, toxic and persistent.

You saw flashes of red, blue and green in a corner of your memory. The thumping music reminding you of a club. You remember the burning in your eyes, the cold beads of sweat sliding down your back. Whatever form of pleasure you got from it before, you didn’t miss any of it, much less now of all times.

Jimin’s grin turned into an instant frown the moment his eyes witnessed the change in your appearance. You fidgeted slowly, unnoticed as your tongue darted to coat your dry lips. It didn't read as an act of seduction, not in the least, it looked anxious. He looks over to the crowd, curious yet clueless on what was so triggering about it. Then, it clicked.

“Hey, you don’t look too comfortable, Y/N.” After a moment, the man wished he didn’t reek of alcohol, and approached you carefully. “Want to go outside? Get some fresh air?” you heard beside you, dismissing whatever you had been experiencing and replacing it with the sound of Jimin’s serene voice that almost cooed you over in invitation. It was softly spoken, wasn’t an order or a question, but a sweet suggestion that caught you off guard because he was still next to you. “We can sit on the balcony and talk for a bit, if you want.”

You were still looking at nothing as he spoke, for you only thought of this exact moment as an escape of it all. Your throat no longer felt tight, and your eyes dissolved the unwanted tears. Yet, your uneasiness wasn’t hard to hide. That’s when you looked over at him, throwing your dignity out the window, and practically begged him with your glossy eyes. “Okay.” In a matter of seconds, you felt a breeze hitting your face, Jimin had already guided you outside.

The classy bottle was left behind with them, and so was your water.

“Aren't you going to get cold with those clothes on?” you asked out of nowhere when he pulled two wooden chairs together next to one another but with a firm distance, angled towards the starry night. His slight tipsiness maybe helped him forget he felt cold anyway, but even the baby hairs at his nape stood up cause of it. You sat on one of the chairs and raised your feet upwards to rest your head cutely on top of your soft bare knees. Jimin turned on a lamp behind you, clearing up a source of vision to evade any comments or suspicious thinking from the others inside.

You don't want them to get any crazy ideas, but you both faced such a romantic scenery, it felt awkward. The smell of the sand and the salty air brought more calamity to your brain, now it had been filled with bitter anxiety from being alone with Jimin. A stranger you had met today out of casuality, who seemed to notice a spark of interest from either side, was right next to you maybe worried about your closed off attitude towards him but being very gentle nonetheless. It’s impossible not to feel nervous.

He flopped down on the chair and shook his head quickly. “Nah, it’s okay. Don't worry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head letting you read his face completely by the yellow light upon his delicate round cheeks. The dork took a big inhale of the same fragrance you thought about earlier and relaxed back onto the seat, one thought circling his mind still as you heard him sigh. “Sorry about Hobi back there, I didn’t know they’d go that wild.” He somehow felt responsible for letting Hoseok get carried away with the drinks and immature actions, it was what was previously planned for all of you to enjoy. You obviously came here to see him, and thinking he disappointed you like that made his own insides churn strangely. “He isn’t going to kill your friend by overdose, if that’s what you're thinking.”

You snorted at his comment, as if Jungkook hasn't gotten drunk ever in his life. The bunny grin he usually pulls doesn’t fool you. You wonder if you hadn't gone out to see them this evening, would Jimin be part of the whole mess too? Maybe, yet it's not supposed to bother you in any way because he’s here now with you still. You could hear the mess and fit of laughter coming from inside, and what oddly began sounding like a freestyle battle between them. Oh boy. “I apologize for Namjoon too, it seemed like they got along just fine in one day.” You facepalmed when Joon began his own idiotic rapping session, too much cringe-worthy content.

“Yeah, Hobi’s really hyperactive even if he’s older than me. Namjoon’s a bit less so it’s a healthy balance,” he emphasized, and it brought you to imagine his friendship with Hoseok as a really special one. For both of them to pack their bags and come here for a trip in the middle of the semester, it meant they were really close like you and the other three musketeers. How cute. You played with your baby toes on top of your sandals as he spoke, so you didn’t catch how he tilted his head when you didn’t say anything else after that.

“Feeling better now?” he pressed, and you immediately raised your head upwards to his direction when you heard the question. It felt like an invite to speak freely now that you two were alone. You’re still being distant in the conversation, you needed to force yourself to keep looking at him directly just as he is right now.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Thanks,” you uttered quickly in reply, feeling a bit guilty for acting so cold considering he is taking time out of his friends to be here with you. No matter how confident he pulls himself up to be, Jimin knows his crescent moon eyes can tell exactly what he’s thinking if you’d only look.

With your oversized lilac sweater wrapped around your knees and your dark locks of hair falling aimlessly on either side of your cheeks, he obviously had to look away so you didn’t see he was checking out your exposed legs. They gleaned beautifully in the light, its cozy fragrance hit his nose since he sat next to you, shy and blushing in the moonlight.

But before you could think about anything else to say, he interrupted his own thoughts, staring off into the horizon and the palm tree leaves getting dragged by the wind. “I’m curious though, as to why you don’t drink. You seemed pretty disgusted back there,” Jimin added cautiously and you saw how his features were not showing any signs of laughter or joking matter. It was blank, not really giving you much to think about his motive for asking such a thing. You indeed looked paler than before when everything came back down to you back there, but what could you actually tell a stranger about that?

Nothing.

You pressed your lips together before letting out a bitter chuckle, guiding one of your hands to brush the situation away. “It’s a nothing deep, really. Just forget about it,” you explained.

Jimin didn’t like the answer, maybe he didn’t have the right to ask further and felt a little embarrassed he was shut off quickly. “Ah, okay, okay,” he replied before parting ways with your vision again, this time forcing himself not to laugh about something that invaded his mind when his cheeks turned a softer shade of pink. You saw it however, feeling much better that he seemed to be smiling more this evening. Compared to you, he tries to always keep a sharp grin. “That’s too bad,” he whispered to himself, “You kind of seem to need one or two.”

Silence. Did he say that out loud? You don’t know how to reply, so you had to bite back defensively with a slightly raised voice, “Why?”

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly at your tone, his full heart-shaped lips jutting out timidly before stating the obvious with the same volume you had refuted with, “So you could relax a little more and stop being so uptight, silly.” He surely laughed just after confessing so innocently, a joke he effectively got away with. He proceeded to bite his lips into his mouth to stop cackling, barely visible orbs turning glossy.

You could feel the burn rise from your neck and settle on your ears before arriving on your cheeks, thankfully your hair would hide the noticeable redness that would appear in said sense. Your mouth gaped a bit open for the shortest moment, the lightheaded feeling now being replaced with a tense reaction in your jaw. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I-I’m sorry for being so stubborn then,” you chimed in and ran your hand through your head, swinging back the strands that invade your face and show more of your perky cheeks unable to hide the shame.

But Jimin’s a little clown joking with you so crudely, clapping his hands together with laughter and resuming to throw his expression away just like you memorized he usually does whenever he laughs, covering his mouth again. You’d normally throw your sandals at him for messing with you, but hearing his high pitched voice ring in your ears probed you to stay quiet until he relaxed back into his seat, composing himself. “I’m kidding, Y/N. Don’t take it too personally.” His hands made a surprise gesture, as if he wanted to grab yours to give you reassurance but the distance between you both didn’t allow it to come naturally. “Heyyy, I don’t think you’re stubborn or uptight.”

You were staring at each other again, focused on what the light could illuminate in the night which were bits of your face. “Lying isn’t cute.” Inside the noise had died down a bit, simple light chattering followed by smooth jazz beats that made him softly move his head to the rhythm cutely. Now you have more body language to remember, you’re a fan of jazz yourself. “So...what brings you here?”

“Well… Hobi actually begged me to come here with him. He always visits his hometown every year, so when we became roommates we bonded even more and now,”—he sang the last part like a commercial—“I’m here~”

“Oh, then that means you aren’t from around here then?” you asked, raising your brows with much needed curiosity and surprised how you let out words so quickly with intrigue.“Nope, I’m from Busan, actually. But were both studying overseas,” he informed with no problem, and suddenly, your heart felt like sinking. The music no longer reached your ears.

Overseas.

In other words, very far away. Something felt like getting trapped in your throat, unable to let you speak anything else while he looked somewhere else, unaware that you took that as bad news.

“Oh,”—you readjusted your butt in the seat and stretched out your legs—“that sounds so cool!” you forced out without sounding too underwhelmed by the new information, raising your head to rest it on your hands like a ‘flower’.

“Thanks,” he replied shyly taken away by your cute stance, “but Hobi was right when he told me it’s beautiful out here, no other beach has ever looked that celestial and…” he trailed off, snapping his fingers in the air looking for another adjective before it hit him, “inspirational.”

His last word hits you like a splash of cold water, noticing the level of happiness Jimin showed in gratitude for his friends. You, in return, followed where his eyes were centered at: the night sky. Its view felt just as he had explained it, different crystals just wildly bouncing off the indigo sheet behind them. Your head, your heart, dulled down their walls, leaving your shoulders without any more tension. You began to feel calm.

“What inspires you?” It left your lips without thinking twice, a slip of a tongue. You covered your mouth instantly, but the man next to you wasn’t bothered by the question.

On the contrary, Jimin seemed pleased. “I still haven’t found it yet, to be honest. I keep searching, hoping that I see it clearly one day.”

Those very words buzzed in your ears as if he were talking to himself. Jimin, for a slight moment, seemed just as lost as you are. It gave you some sort of weird comfort. “I don’t regret coming here either,” you teased the words out slowly to the man beside you, biting the inside of your lip as you kept serene focus on anywhere but him. Your heart felt like exploding, warmth spreading everywhere. “It’s nice here, thanks to you.”

And not only you felt the wave of emotions settling harshly. His heart fluttered upon hearing you speaking more fluently, the natural smile you wore triggered the baby shots of alcohol that still dwelled inside his belly and got him to grin from side to side. He didn’t have words, he just sat there. Quietly admiring a flower that bloomed slowly, revealing herself with caution.

“Jimin?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring.”

The man didn’t stutter like you thought he would, instead . His eyes twinkled like the stars beside you, fluffy cheeks filling up the space to appear like crescent moons. Tipsy or not, he didn’t waste time in not teasing you. “...Am I?”

Instead of turning the chair to actually face him more, you moved your body to a fetus position that angled in his direction as he spoke with the serene voice he possessed. You let your head rest on the upper edge of the seat, folding your hands on top of your knees just watching his perfect lips talk. He can ramble on and on when he’s tipsy like this, pausing to laugh at his own thoughts before telling you about them. You continued to take in his warm toned skin contrasting to the white shirt, eyeing him up and down as quickly as you could.

He played with the necklaces dangling on his shirt while he admitted he and Hoseok are dancers at a Liberal Arts university, he mainly focused on contemporary dances. You found him to fit that role so perfectly, they were sensual and very measured choreographies which only served as a visual pleasure and soothing music. Jimin’s bare presence resonated that same level of aura, you can’t imagine what you could feel if you were to see him dance. Him, swinging his body so delicately and calculated must be like a movie in slow motion, owning the stage and claiming it his own. You’re not usually used to watching those sorts of performances, you always preferred the hip hop and street dances more because they were energetic. However, after listening to Jimin’s passion and descriptions of what he does, of what he’s studying, it spoke to you on a deeper level.

You’ve always thought people don’t necessarily love the things they aspired to (like yourself), but this was clear evidence that you were wrong. He opened your eyes, more than what you allowed him to, and it was great. He was great.

He was comfortable with your silence and sweet hums. He didn’t push you to talk anymore, things you said were beginning to come naturally from your tongue. Your favorite color, favorite foods, childhood heartthrobs, and even quotes from series you may have watched. You still couldn’t believe he had watched that weird sappy romance drama you were quoting just a week ago without a problem. You are having the time of your life, adding pretty comments to highlight his latest experiences in his foreign studies while the night worked in your favor.

Now you know why everyone loves coming here, the sky sets itself like a paradise and the clouds are nowhere to be seen, only the countless numbers of stars bounce off your lids and even his sculpted cheeks. It’s relaxing and extraordinary to have this view, right here in this moment while others are inside missing out on it, but you preferred to look at him, only him. He was much more worthy to admire. You hope your friends never come out, this side of you is so rare for them to see. Giddy and joyful, you couldn't believe it yourself.

As he kept talking and the night kept growing cold, you couldn’t deny his continuous proximity, the clinginess in his pitch getting closer as he moved the chair until both armrests of the seat bumped into one another. There was a need for warmth, be it from the weather outside or simply two bodies that begged to caress one another. As if contact was necessary, palms getting sweaty and lips getting drier. Jimin pleaded guilty, surrendering to trail his chair slowly to your direction. It wasn’t like you were incredibly close, rather it was a view where both of you could appreciate each other’s smallest features. He mimicked your position, fitting his body onto the seat as much as he could.

His eyes pretended to stare at yours while in reality they looked at a freckle just below your eye, he initially thought it was a dirty spot because when he went to wipe it off you bursted out in nervous laughter thinking his delicate fingers wanted to stroke your cheek. It was a close one. Meanwhile you later discovered he had a crooked tooth that overlapped the other very discreetly while looking at his pink lips, you found the imperfection to be so adorable. Even the black roots beginning to appear underneath his blonde hair, you saw everything. Cute, meaningless observations that had you on cloud nine, chuckling and fooling each other teasingly...

You don’t remember him leaving and returning with something in his hands, then you felt a sudden smell adorn your nostrils. It felt so inviting that you only registered it as a scent and not an actual blanket around your body. Jimin’s hands slowly grazed over your shoulders down to where your hands met the armrests, draping it across your body.

“Is… that… lavender?” You murmured under the blanket he had brought for you both, soft and cozily wrapped down to your bent legs. You stared up at his profile, innocent and calm.

“It’s the blanket,” he stated, grasping it over his torso. Separated by the uncomfortable armrests, two souls stared at the night adjusting itself with thin clouds.

Is that how he smells? Does Jimin smell so calmly inviting, vivid and soft? The very idea of nuzzling everyday in that natural fragrance, a stranger and unknown, yet so… intriguing. “Smells… nice,” you muttered timidly before you exhale exaggeratedly, feeling somewhat intoxicated.

As if it was impossible to get any closer, Jimin turned his eyes away from the night. He now focused on you from his spot in the chair, mind sharper now. Laughter was less evident in his eyes, they were relaxed onto your own.

But what did you do? You chuckled nervously and poked Jimin’s nose with something completely unexpected, “You have alcohol breath.”

His eyes almost popped out as he rose up immediately, “Really?!”

Then it was your turn to laugh out loud, giggling at his quirky nature. “Kidding, kidding,” you pushed him back into his seat, initiating contact for the first time with his bicep as you whispered. Head still in the clouds, you begin to snuggle under the softness of the blanket once again as he composed himself.

“You sure like my blanket.”

“Very much,” you whispered, now looking at his disheveled locks for more than necessary. There was no more awkwardness in you both staring at each other, not a flinch or involuntary reflexes. You’re stuck in a trance, wondering if only you could approach in a way—

“Just touch it, silly,” he accused, catching you off guard as he tsked playfully. Jimin took your hand in his, guiding it up to rest upon his hair.

As he continued to glare at your shyness, you held back nervous laughter and carefully combed your fingers through his dirty blonde locks after letting his grip loosen. It was truly soft, just like you imagined it would. “I was only admiring.”

“Mhm, yeah right,” raced his sarcasm. With your body turned to him completely, you observe his brows settle down. He looked at peace, staring at your arm over him ever so curious, “Are you comfortable, Y/N?”

“Um, the chairs are a little hard on my neck but—“

“No,—I meant you. Are you feeling okay right now?...” he asked with genuine concern in his voice while you kept digging your fingers through his hair and he grabbed your tiny wrist in his hand. Your heart skipped a beat, letting Jimin’s aura engulf you even deeper into his eyes.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you mumbled and involuntarily ran your index and middle finger down to his neck hairline and massaged his scalp slowly, making him shiver in your hold and stiffen his jaw. The hairs stood up in the back of his head, trembling as his nostrils flared discreetly.Completely off guard, you felt a hand reach your own. It took you in, a hand rather small but even so warm you felt like yours were freezing at contact. It caressed yours with his thumb as his index drew circles across the veins peeking out from it. His barely audible voice whispered, “Are you sure?”

This man was on the verge of hypnotizing you.

“Tell me something, are your hands bigger than mine?” you changed the subject, looking at his tiny fingers draw lines over yours. Jimin stared at you dumbfounded, faking being shocked as you giggled your way from entering forbidden grounds.

“Y/N, don’t make fun of me like that!” he whined and pinched your nose, wiggling it from side to side before you took your hand away and signaled him to align it with his. “See? Bigger.”

“Not by much,” you nagged.

“Yeah, yeah, shh. Back to my hair,” he whispers quickly in a breath, clutching that same hand you compared and guided it back to his hair with little force, the clingy order caressing your ears which were thumping too loudly from the overflowing contact…

“Jimin?”

“Mhm?”You wondered what made you stop from telling him what you were thinking, probably going for something like ‘I want to be closer,’ but you resist when he catches your gaze. So you don’t say anything. You just lay there, admiring, listening, relaxing.

Both of you were too far off to mind the sound of the soothing jazz, Jimin had been recovering from the tequila shots he’d taken before you arrived earlier and you were getting high off his slurred angelic voice murmuring whatever came to his mind. His head is no longer spinning like he tried to hide before, it was steady. He was focused on you, only whispering now because you were closer, mentioning random constellations he pretended to see in the navy sheet to impress you after you complimented the sky. Your own heartbeat didn’t bounce off your chest anymore, it had been silenced as you kept gazing at him rather than what he pointed at. He was a constellation of his own.

If you only knew he had memorized some of them from a recent song he had to perform shortly before coming here, he’s no astrological expert. You caught that on shortly after he stuttered and invented a few names, but didn’t mind it, instead you began talking to him about zodiacs and spelling weird things about them as if they were true. How naive of you to follow through stupid topics with him, the you from back home would hit your head for coming up with childish things like that and being so corny. But you’re lost, right now you don’t care.

You don’t recall when your eyes had begun to blink closed, the nightly cooling temperature somehow returned the drowsiness back to you and mixed with his sweet melodical hums. You tried to keep them open, you didn’t want the moment to end. Still, he noticed you were slowly wandering to the other side now before his hand caressed the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your locks. Your mouth was slightly opened and your harsh lines of your forehead had relaxed completely, head slowly tilting over to get more cozy with the uncomfortable chair. The sight made Jimin chuckle quietly at your vulnerable self, biting back his own yawn and desire to doze off next to you.

Like you never imagined, the sun peeking through the clouds had beamed so much you allowed it to stop raining on your mind. You aren’t as easy as others, what he did for his own gain was to let you rest your eyes sweetly, watching how tranquil you appear while sleeping. Your cheeks aren’t quite as rounded as his, but it made him want to squeeze them from the adorable scenery. He could notice your front teeth, white and permanent hiding behind lips he could only describe as inviting.

“‘Yeoja’, wake up, your neck will bruise,” he whispered sternly after a few minutes, repeating the ‘wake up’ part until you fluttered you eyes open, coming face to face with the blurry silhouette of Jimin and feeling his hand poke your shoulder, instantly sitting straight up on the chair. Your head turned dizzy with wild colors invading your vision from the sudden abrupt movement as you wiped your eyes harshly to wake yourself up from disorientation. You scratched the back of your head, no longer feeling in space but snapped back to reality.

Why had you ruined the moment by falling asleep? You wore a frown, but Jimin found it to be more playful than real considering he woke you up and maybe you’re grumpy when tired. You then yawned and covered your mouth respectfully, noticing that Jimin’s chair was sitting that close to yours and getting slightly embarrassed for falling asleep on him like that. The party was still going on inside, but you were ready to flop down a bed and faint from everything that happened. It drained you.

“Mm, s’rry,” you mumbled incoherently and shot him an apologetic grin, fixing your hair and stretching out the sweater over your cold fingertips while evading it from exposing your unexercised belly. You hope you didn’t drool or snore, that’d be more than traumatizing.

“It’s okay, want me to walk you back to the apartment?” his big round eyes asked you innocently, a side smile curved very warmly over to you in hopes that you agree to let him walk you. Even if the beach is solitary, one never knows what dangers might happen… Okay, maybe he just wants to spend more time with you and won’t say it out loud. Whichever it was, you’d buy the excuse.“I’ll tell the guys you were sleepy and had to leave.”

“Mm-yeah, sure. Sorry I fell asleep, was jus’ tired,” you apologize after getting up and sliding on your sandals from the floor, walking like a penguin as they settled in place and followed Jimin who already began going down the stairway. You were to drowsy to notice you had his blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, but it didn’t take long for it to touch the floor. Jimin chuckled at the sleeping beauty that couldn’t think straight, throwing the blanket on a nearby chair as you walked out.

“I didn’t mind, really. It was rather adorable watching you sleep—Ow!” He whined as you glared at his back and hit the back of his head, thanking the heavens that you're behind him and he won't get to see how flustered he made you feel with just one word. Such bravery you had for being so playful and wicked, he held in the opportunity of pointing it out to you. Your cheeks are probably as red as tomatoes from how hot they felt, knots in your stomach struggling to break free. He’s grabbed more confidence than you expected, you wish he wasn’t so verbal about everything he thought about. You’re back to being stubborn and irritated, no man’s getting rid of that so easily.

The walk had taken much less time than what you figured it would take, strolling quietly around the harmless sand and watching the waves crash again and again along the shore. You didn’t speak at all after what happened up there, didn’t even bother to think about what the other guys were up to or if they even wondered where you two were. You’ll probably have to explain yourself tomorrow to at least one of them or you’ll get scolded like a rebel teenager, but after you make them some hangover-proof breakfast. Jimin’s just a step ahead, taking in the view as well with his hands secured inside his pockets, and you finally see a hint of his forehead exposed when he turned around once. The wind had blown most of his bangs back and even if he thought he looked weird, you were thinking the complete opposite.

And sadly, your destiny was reached and you had to say goodbye to each other for the night. It’s sad to think that only six days were left now and then you’d be completely gone from his existence, with what you both shared today it was clear that you both had something mutual. You can’t help still feel excited for the days to come and see him, it’s the first you’re this excited for anything since. Even your toes trembled in your sandals when you both stopped walking just beside the stairs, playing with your thumbs while Jimin smiled over softly and looked down at your own nervous eyes as you fought to say something, anything.

“Still tipsy?” you joked, tilting your head so he doesn’t see how much his exposed forehead affected your concentration on his own pair of eyes, coating your bottom lip with your teeth anxiously with just a bead of sweat appearing in your back.

“Nah, not anymore.” He turned to the beach for a moment and then stepped a little closer to you without you noticing since you were sort of caught staring without capturing his proximity. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Or are you going to stay cramped up again?” he teased, fluffing his bangs forward while you laughed at his indirect form of wanting to see you again. You had been so stubborn during the day, you clearly missed out on many things and so many opportunities. Tomorrow it might be different, tomorrow you’ll definitely wake up early to not disappoint him.

“Hehe, no. I’ll come outside, but I won’t promise anything,” you breathed and swallowed in anticipation, should you simply wave and go up the stairs or…? You have no idea what to do and it’s extra nerve racking to stand there and not talk or even breathe. You’re a bit tense, Jimin could definitely tell from your distracted eyes that pry to glance anywhere but his own. But how could you, when the first-quarter moon had begun to bright up you both just now? Your feet toyed around with the sand in its way, accidentally bumping into his own feet lazily.

“Y/N, you can look at me, I don’t bite,” he spoke sternly and precisely, almost sounding annoyed. He pronounced your name so surely, as if it was regal. That was all it took for you to follow his voice just as quickly, centered on his immaculate jawline and round chubby chin. Then going up from his opaque lips to his little adorable button nose and finishing off at his—

There wasn’t much need for words, for his brown pupils appeared rather bigger now, lines at his lids less marked and a gaze so steady your legs turned into jello at his mercy. His darker shaded brows hiding behind his lighter hair, completely immersed in your rosy subtle lips without denying it. Your ears seemed to lose their own focus, the ocean’s splashes were silenced and even the translucent whistle of the wind couldn’t fight with how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

Jimin’s eyes bored into yours after a soft sigh, leaning his head over, tilting it lightly along the way and calmly pressed his full set of lips to the side of your forehead. He let them sit on your temple for a short moment before pulling away, smooch almost inaudible by how light and delicate it had been. The kiss felt hot and burning on your skin, like it missed the momentary stay his wonderful lips had taken ahold of. When you hear a dead leaf breaking in the sand, you realize you had closed your eyes without realizing. You squeezed your hands together to block out the blush, circulation getting lost. Once you blinked open, the menacing stare from earlier was gone and replaced back with his dorky grin that even showed his full set of teeth.

His heart had its own party over there, skyrocketing while he bit his bottom lip like he could taste you just from the small peck. He found you so interesting, so hidden yet vulnerable.

And you suddenly felt a confident vibe run through your body, one you haven’t even thought would appear after so long that forces you to smile wildly at this individual. “Goodnight, Jimin,” you chuckled, voice breaking at the end from the overall excitement. As soon as he nodded and turned to walk away, you sprinted up the stairs with no care that you could fall and break your face, you needed to run up there as fast as you could. The slapping of your sandals resonated in Jimin’s eardrums, shaking his head at your weird quirks yet it caused him to turn his head in curiosity. You put the key in the lock and shut the door slowly once you entered the beach complex, body leaning over the door and sliding down in disbelief as you legs caved instantly.

. . .

Reality hit you like a bombshell as if you had been drunk the entire night and were suddenly remembering everything like a live action movie. Okay, you needed to go over this, step by step—Fuck that. The kiss on the forehead. The stupid kissandomygodyoucan’tbelieveit—

You let out a shaky breath, so angry at yourself for smiling over a lovestruck crush that will only last a week in your presence but you’re too excited to even care. “Oh my god, I’m so—AAAAH!” You yelled into the palms of your hands and kicked the floor with the palms of your feet repeatedly like a child in a tantrum. You're still on the clouds, sleep gone completely as you can only remember how his lips felt on the side of your face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder how they would feel anywhere else. You thank him for not getting overboard with the affection, it would’ve caused an inner turmoil to experience so many things at once.

You’re simply taking deep breaths before realizing this is the first time you’ve acted more like yourself. A bit reserved and scared but it’s a start, you feel like a basic college girl right now having relatable problems. And he noticed you for it, you don’t want to fill up negative things inside your mind like assuming he’d only see you cause you had been the only girl here. At this point, you’re too sappy and strangely happy to care for his reasons.

After a whole five minutes of sitting down and staring at literally nothing but upcoming dreams about tonight, you get up and head for your room. And then there’s an interruption to your jazz music playing on your head, a vibration. Not in patterns like an ordinary phone call, just sharp and alone. One little vibration. Your ears tickle with the sudden sound, cause you didn’t feel it on the bed or anywhere on you. Your brows then furrowed, trying to spot where it comes from. You raised your chin from your sitting position of the bed, looking at the cabinet which had a faint light flickering on and off.

Oh, that’s right, it was your cellphone you hadn’t used in forever. The buzz still lingered, shoving you into temptation.

Without a care in the world, you toss away the sheet and get up to check out what had popped up. But it was weird, you thought nobody had a cellular signal down here to begin with, so you had left it sitting there on the counter since you arrived this morning. The blinding reflection of the device hurt your vision until you can tap the brightness away, pinching your eyes almost shut to be able to comprehend the notifications you had received with a little green bubble on the left side of your lock screen. Only one bar of mobile service. Unlocking the device grants you a number you don’t have registered with any sort of name, causing you to be even more skeptical. That is, until you started reading.

(***)-***-****: Hey there, baby girl. I know it’s been a while since we talked but I wanted to let you know I’ll be in town next week for a couple of days if you want to meet and hang out for a bit. I know I was a total jerk but I’ve been thinking about you lately and the fun we had together, remember? Anyways, I’ll send you my address since you never told me where you lived in the first place. Hop a text if you’ll come down, love. —JTW

The phone fell to the floor.

You gasped, hearing it bang against the floor with a thump and your mouth gaped open. No words came out, you could only gag. Your jaw clenched with anger, there’s a sharp pain in your chest fighting to breathe properly. A small tinge of fear on your throat begged you to let out a shaky breath, and the text hadn’t been threatening but upon reading the initials, you knew exactly who it was from. It hadn’t been the only weird messages from random guys laying around your DMs, but this one in particular, had more than the others. This held a story, just a reply away from being unraveled and taken out of a bookshelf to be read.

“You... son of a bitch,” you whispered and threw yourself down on the bed, leaving the phone on the floor not giving a fuck whether it cracked its screen or not. You’re now beginning to have a headache from applying so much pressure to your jaw with your teeth, hot tears forcing themselves to come and eat you alive just as the text had done. You hate yourself for crying, for being so stupid, but it’s there, done for. The flashbacks barged on your door with loud bangs and bitter tastes of dark wine on the roof of your mouth, tired of being so weak from a simple note written on your phone but it had been long since you received something from that man.

Regret. You referred to that day as it was. You let the salty drops of water flow freely from your lids as you try to sleep properly with the anxiety, but it’s no use. You’re still wide awake, trying to go numb as you would do alone in your apartment anytime he tried to contact you. How could you sleep now? Knowing you were far from being normal, from feeling like yourself without a tormenting disgust of yourself.

You let out a sigh when the tears had stopped and you could relax your thoughts better. You kept looking for pictures of Jimin, of his sweet smile and sparkly eyes. Tried to remember how his hair felt on your shaky palms, cooing you into the mini-nap he let you have right there next to him as he whispered sweet nothings to your ear. He was humming a tune you don’t know of, but it was catching up on your head with its strange soothing melody. It helped you inhale without worry, the thought of him taking a leap himself when he left you that kiss. The only thing holding you back from falling into another breakdown is knowing you’ll see him tomorrow, that you’re going to have fun together. How pathetic to know that just by thinking of him, imagining his gentle personality and soul, it was enough to calm you down.

The drapes were pinched open just the slightest, allowing some of the blues from the reflecting moon to dull you further into tranquility as you watched his made up constellations and burst a soft, bitter giggle. It took a while, but you managed to close your eyes willingly, praying that tomorrow came faster and the week would be infinite.

—If only he wished the same way.—you thought to yourself, unable to dream of the moments you wanted to relive and settled for a dull good night sleep. Little did you know, the young man had trouble sleeping himself; either from the noise of his new friends dry heaving on the toilet from booze, or simply because he got more than what he bargained for with a nice lovely stranger. Be it from his happy stroll or the pain in his permanent smile, Jimin definitely wanted to dream of you.

And you had six more days left to do so.

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lyxanislive · 5 years ago

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Snack - A Shallua Fic-let

“Are you eating chips from your bra?”

Allura yelped, almost dropping her snack and spinning towards the doorway. Her eyes locked on Shiro’s and she felt the crescents under her eyes light up.

“N-no!” She stammered, he turned on the lights and smiled widely at her. She quickly crammed more into her mouth and crunched loudly while not breaking eye contact.

“Allura, Why do you have doritos in your shirt?” He sounded amused.

“They’re mine.” She said quickly. “Hunk said I could have the whole bowl.”.

Read on AO3 or Below the Cut~

This was silly, really it was, and her mother would be appalled at her current acts if she could see them. Even Coran would pull a face and scold her with a lecture about how to properly behave. But she couldn’t help herself, and because she already knew how shameful it was, she had sequestered herself in a dark corner of the lounge. These odd triangles were so delicious and crispy, a slight tang to them that left a pleasant buzz on her tongue, she simply could not get enough. They stained her fingers with orange dust that tasted just the baked treat when she licked them off.

She could blame Hunk for her current situation.

She was awkwardly standing near the back table, unsure how to fit in with her Human comrades, and Romelle had already abandoned her to dance badly on the other side of the room with Rizavi and Veronica. Hunk had joined her, a wide smile on his face and seemed to take her discomfort into account as he gestured to the snacks. He had called them ‘Dori toes’ and gestured to the large blue bowl. He had encouraged her to try them, stating they did not need any toppings. Allura had trusted him! He was supposed to be the kindest of the former Paladins, yet here he was tempting her with these delicious ‘toes’.

Now, several vargas later she was quietly hiding in the dark, pulling the crunchy little snacks out of the napkin she had carefully arranged in her top. Despite her best efforts, there was now the orange power and crumbs sticking to her skin, but it was worth it. She pulled out a ‘toe’ and slowly placed it in her mouth, savoring every little nibble.

“Are you eating chips from your bra?”

Allura yelped, almost dropping her snack and spinning towards the doorway. Her eyes locked on Shiro’s and she felt the crescents under her eyes light up.

“N-no!” She stammered, he turned on the lights and smiled widely at her. She quickly crammed more into her mouth and crunched loudly while not breaking eye contact.

“Allura, Why do you have doritos in your shirt?” He sounded amused.

“They’re mine.” She said quickly. “Hunk said I could have the whole bowl.”

“Not really an answer, Princess.” He crossed towards her slowly, his eyes drifting towards her chest as if trying to see the contents.

She defensively put her hand up to block his view of what was surely at least a half dozen left wrapped up so neatly pressed against her chest. “I’m not a princess anymore, Shiro. You know this.”

He shrugged. “You are to me.”

She couldn’t tell if the blush on her face remained because she was caught in the act or if it was because it was him. She turned her eyes to her shoes in hopes that it would subside.

“Cool Ranch?”

“Cool Ranch?” She echoed.

“The Doritos – are they cool ranch flavored?”

“There’s other flavors?” Shiro nodded. “I don’t – Maybe? I’m unsure. Hunk only said Doritos.”

Shiro extended his hand palm up, and, rather reluctantly, Allura pulled a triangle from her top and placed it into his outstretched hand. He finished it in two bites, licked the remains off his finger, and seemed to consider for a moment. Allura tried not to focus on the movement of his lips, but failed spectacularly.

“Spicy nacho.” He nodded as if he hadn’t just made up weird words. “Not cool ranch, but still good.”

“Should I put them in the refrigeration unit?” She softly questioned, she carefully reached in and produced the napkin carrying the remains of her bounty. Shiro chuckled and shook his head.

He glanced up to the wall where an array of symbols told him the time, Allura could only make out the 0 but glanced at the symbols as well.

“Come on – “ Shiro was careful to grab the wrist of the hand not holding the Dorti toes. “There’s a convenience store not far from the barracks.”

Allura didn’t understand but nodded and allowed herself to be led.

Allura chomped happily, and though she agreed that ‘Cool Ranch’ was good, she still preferred the ‘spicy nacho’ flavor. She sat cross legged on Shiro’s bed, surrounded by not only Doritos, but other fun snack that either Shiro recommended, or ones that she had thought the packaging looked interesting. Shiro sat across from her, eating another weird earth snack.

“Man, I haven’t pigged out on junk food since before Adam and I split.” He smirked, holding out one of the thick colourful strings he was eating to her. She took it without hesitation and popped it into her mouth.

It was sweet, and chewy, but the texture was just off. It reminded her of a certain Altean vegetable and she frowned.

“Don’t like gummy worms?” He asked and she shook her head. He laughed and looked around the pile. “Well we have other things to snack on.”

“Do you do this a lot?”

“Hm? No. Course not. But it is kinda fun, huh?”

“So, it’s like a secret earth tradition?”

Shiro paused before scrambling out of bed. “No – not yet.” He smiled brightly. “Wait here!”

He quickly left the room but shortly returned with an armful of soft cloths. He dumped them on the floor by the foot of his bed before turning to his dresser and digging through it.

“We’re going to have a slumber party. Just you and me.”

Allura’s mouth opened and her eyes widened.

“You told me of those! Back befor- “ She didn’t finish the sentence. They both already knew it ended with ‘before you died’.

“Put these on.” He gently tossed his clothing at her, and she lifted it up to inspect the plain black shirt and dark grey soft pants. “I’ll get the fort set up, you get ready.”

He turned around to start placing sheets around the room in what he hoped would be some semblance of a tent. He glanced over to where Allura was currently topless, fussing with the pyjamas pants.

His cheeks felt hot as she toyed with the strings, her back and arms were adorned with pink lines that matched the colour of the ones under her eyes.

He kept trying to focus on the patterns, but couldn't help his eyes from wandering to the ample amount of side boob she was displaying.

He licked his lips, but she had moved to grab the shirt and pull it over her head. He watched her smooth movement and let his hands fumble with more blankets.

“I think this is right?” He tried to act as if he had not just been ogling, but his mouth was still agape. That image would be burned into his head forever.

“Shiro?” Right – she wanted a response.

“Perfect.” He whispered, but her sensitive Altean hearing picked it up and she flushed. He turned back to his hap harzardly strewn about blankets and tugged at them a bit more. “Almost done.”

She nodded as the tent slowly took form and watched as he grabbed a tablet off the floor and held open a flap for her to crawl onto his bed. “After you Princess.”

“Hm, Thank you Paladin.” She replies and crawled into the pile of snacks, making herself a sort of nest out of the snacks and blankets on his bed.

Shiro followed suit and sprawled out on his stomach – idly scrawling through his tablet as he felt Allura shuffle around to lay next to him. He selected a video, propped the tablet up on the covers and snuggled next to the princess to watch the movie.

He had picked an old cartoon movie about Atlantis and its beautiful princess. Allura seemed enraptured, carefully watching the cartoon characters as the plot unfolded.

“Is this a true story?” She asked, turning her head towards him, She has taken a huge bite out of an entire Kitkat bar and Shiro almost cringed before reaching for it from her.

“Not at all, but it’s a good story.”

“I like the Princess.” She relinquished the treat to him and turned back to the screen to res her head on her arms as they crossed in front of her.

“I like all Princesses.” Shiro admitted coyly as he shifted closer to her and broke off a piece of the kitkat bar, plopping the rest of the already chomped on chocolate in front of her.

“All Princesses?” Came the reply.

“All the Princesses I’ve met, yeah.” He quirked a smile before swallowing the chocolate.

She leaned in and kissed him then, short and soft. Her lips tasting slightly of chocolate, sending a rush through his blood more powerful than sugar. He parted his lips slightly and deepened the kiss, eliciting a small moan from the princess.

When they broke apart Shiro smiled lovingly at her watching her face light up.

“You’re my favorite snack.”

Shiro snorted. “Allura, that can mean something else.” She frowned and turned back to the small screen, pouting. He followed after her, kissing her cheek, right next to her marking. “But you’re my favorite snack too.”

And the two cuddled together in their tent, enjoying the evening and whatever snacks they deemed worthy.

#shallura #fic #shallura fam #what up #heres some fluff #content #lyxan does things

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dinoyoongi · 5 years ago

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Birthday Cakes & Breakdowns

SYNOPSIS: You bake the greatest cake that has ever existed for Jin’s birthday but it ends up at the bottom of Big Hit’s dumpster.

PAIRING: Seokjin x You

GENRE: Fluffy angst

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 2686

Author’s Note: This one was written in just a little over an hour. There is no structure and it’s kind of all over the place but I hope you enjoy anyway!

_______________________________

“Ta-dah! Happy Birthday!” you shout, setting the tray down in front of Jin at the table. His eyes light up at the sight of the large cake, expertly decorated with pastel purple fondant and a gooey, dripping layer of chocolate fudge. Twenty-eight flickering candles sit in the center, their alignment cleverly spelling out 'JIN.'

“Whoa, this looks amazing!” Jin beams at you. You feel a burst of pride when he immediately reaches for his phone to photograph your masterpiece. “What bakery did you go to? Did this cost you a lot?”

You huff in offense, stomping your foot. “I didn't order it. I baked and decorated it myself.”

Jin balks, his surprised eyes flashing between you and the cake. “You made this? Y/N, I didn't know you could bake.”

“Well, I couldn't. I took a class specifically to learn how to make this cake. I've been watching videos too. Isn't it beautiful? I really think I nailed it.”

He chuckles at your confidence. Like him, you took pride in everything that you did and you weren't afraid to let everyone know it. It was one of the many things that he loved about you and one of the reasons why your relationship was so strong.

“If it tastes even half as good as it looks, it should be delicious,” Jin compliments after snapping more pictures, making you pose in a few of them. You give him a a couple of moments to admire the cake before you hurriedly grab the knife to start slicing, anxious for him to taste it. You cut one perfect slice and slide the plate over to him.

“Don't eat it yet! I want to record your reaction,” you instruct, putting a fork in his hand and backing away, loading up your phone's camera. He can't help but laugh when you begin counting down on your fingers silently as if you're directing a movie. When you dramatically get to zero and jab your finger in his direction, he takes his cue and shoves a forkful into his mouth.

Oh no.

He freezes, the partially chewed cake sitting idle in his mouth. His eyes widen as he looks up at you. You grin and clap your hand to your wrist in celebration. “Look at you – you're speechless! Is it that good?”

“Oh yeah! So delicious!” he mumbles, garbling his words. His eyes remain large. “It's … it's really something else!”

Seeing you grin so brightly, basking in your baking accomplishment is enough motivation for Jin to not only finish chewing the bite of oddly textured, even odder flavored cake, but to also somehow choke down the entire slice that you cut for him. When you reach to cut him another piece, he practically flies out of his seat, gripping your wrist to pull it away from the garbage-fire flavored monstrosity.

“If I eat another slice, I don't think I'll be in any shape for practice tomorrow. How about I bring the rest with me tomorrow and share it with the boys?”

A quiet sigh of relief escapes him as he mentally pats himself on the back for his quick thinking. Because you love the attention, you'll absolutely allow him to take the remainder of the cake to the studio where the members and staff will marvel at your work and Jin will brag about what an incredible baker you are. It's no surprise to him when you squeal in delight, immediately whisking the cake away to be transferred to a travel safe container. Before you peruse your cupboards for an appropriate box, you raise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Jin's mouth.

“Happy Birthday,” you kiss him again. “I'm so glad you loved the cake. Now go rest, Birthday Boy. 'll clean everything up.”

With one last quick kiss, you disappear into the kitchen. Guilt smashes into Jin like a truck and he groans, rubbing his face in frustration.

She's not coming with me to practice, Jin tells himself. What she doesn't know won't hurt her.

__________________________________

When Yoongi opens the door, you're struggling with arms full of bags and boxes. He dives for a box before it hits the ground, grabbing a few more things from your precariously teetering stack.

“Thanks,” you breathlessly greet him, throwing him an appreciative smile. He follows you into the kitchen, sniffing the contents of the boxes as he walks.

“What is all of this?”

“Treats for you guys! I've spent the whole night playing around with pastry recipes and I made way too much for just Jin and I so I'm spreading the wealth!” Yoongi is successful in turning himself away from you so you can't see the way that his face drops. He tasted the birthday cake you made for Jin last week and he wouldn't exactly classify your baking as any kind of wealth. He leans against the door frame, watching as you carefully position each box, opening the top as if you were turning their kitchen into a buffet and expecting everyone to pile their plates full. Yoongi winces. He respects his hyung. He'd do anything for his hyung. But putting something else you've baked anywhere near his mouth again? That isn't happening.

“You're here!” You hear Jin's voice exclaim happily from another room. He bounds into the kitchen and you giggle as he lifts you off the ground, spinning you in circles until you're both dizzy. He places you gently back to the ground with a soft kiss to your forehead. “What did you bring for us?”

“Hyung, she baked for us. She baked a lot,” Yoongi announces, his voice cracking a few times. You giggle, assuming that his wavering tone is because he's so anxious to make a plate. But Jin knows that Yoongi's voice trembles in fear, not excitement. “Too bad I can't eat anything right now.”

You frown. “Why can't you eat anything?”

“I'm on … medication. And you can't eat anything while you're taking it,” he stumbles through a lie, eyes flashing to Jin in a panic. “Yeah, it sucks. I have to go now. Thanks for thinking of us, Y/N.”

He's gone before you have the chance to ask more. Worried for the rapper's health, you turn to your boyfriend. “He's on medication? What for? Is he okay?”

“He's going to be fine. Don't worry about him,” Jin grits through clenched teeth. He doesn't expect any of the members to eat anything you've brought but he at least expects them to be discreet about it. Glancing at the line of boxes, he feels a tremor of unpleasantness. He knew that lying to you about the cake last week would turn into bad karma that would eventually come back to kick him right in his ass. How can he be honest now when you've baked so much? But what if he doesn't tell you now and you come back tomorrow with even more?

“Jagiya, I have to tell you-”

“Oh shit!” you exclaim suddenly, holding the bottom of your t-shirt out. Jin can see some kind of golden yellow ooze splattered along the bottom. “This is my favorite shirt! Does custard stain?”

Custard? He would have guessed it to be some kind of lemon filling. Since when is custard that dark shade of yellow?

“I think if we treat it before it sets, it should come out. Go change into one of my shirts and try dabbing the spots with soap and cold water.”

You nearly melt on the spot. Homemaker Jin was your one of your absolute weaknesses. You jump up to give him kiss in thanks before scurrying to Jin's bedroom to rummage through his shirts. He sighs as his eyes fall on the counter full of pastries, his stomach turning at the thought of ingesting any one of them.

“What's with the boxes? Are we filming something here today?” Jimin asks, yawning as he steps into the kitchen. He walks past the kitchen table, freezing when he sees Y/N's purse hanging off the back of one of the chairs. “Wait, Y/N is here? Does that mean … she didn't make … ?”

Jin tries to smile but it falls into a grimace. “She worked hard. Do you want to at least try any of them? It looks like there's a variety.”

Jimin laughs obnoxiously loud. “Yeah, right! I'm surprised you haven't already thrown these away. We had to practically beg you to let us taste that rancid cake before you tossed it in the dumpster.”

“You did what?”

Your voice comes out as a squeak, high-pitched from the equal amounts of anger and hurt that overtake you. The boys gasp at the sight of you standing in the doorway, Jin's oversized shirt enveloping your small frame as you press a cloth against your stained top. “You threw my rancid cake in the dumpster? Rancid?”

Jimin has the decency to look ashamed, bowing his head in apology. Jin throws an elbow into his gut and the younger boy doesn't need translating that it means he'll be in a lot of trouble later. He shuffles out of the kitchen.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles before he exits. You don't spare him any attention. Your fury belongs to only one man and you're about to let him have all of it. Don't cry over pastries. Don't cry over pastries. You have an overwhelming desire to put up a strong front, to be angry instead of sad. But Jimin's words were like an arrow that shot right through your hard exterior and landed into your feelings. And now they're very, very hurt.

“You threw the cake away?” you croak, blinking up at the ceiling to push the tears down. “Why did you tell me it was delicious? Why did you let them try it if you thought it was so bad? Did you guys make fun of me?”

“Jagiya, no,” Jin sighs, reaching his arm out to grab your hand. You childishly pull it closer to you. “I'm so sorry. I should have been honest with you last week.”

“I worked so hard on that cake,” you sniffled. “I spent so much money on the class and supplies. It was supposed to be perfect.”

“I'll give you the money for-”

“Jin, I'm not upset about the money. I'm upset because I tried my hardest to do something special for you and it ended up at the bottom of Big Hit's dumpster!”

“It was special,” Jin mumbles. You scoff in disbelief. He wonders whether he should shut his mouth now or keep going. But keeping his mouth shut is what landed him in this mess in the first place. “It was a special cake because you made it. It just … Y/N, it didn't taste good. At all.”

“Okay, Jin, tell me how you really feel,” you snarl sarcastically. He groans loudly when you bring out the sarcasm, one of your strengths in arguing. Jin tries to avoid conflict with you for this very reason; it's no fun trying to have a grown-up argument with your girlfriend when she's responding to everything you say like a ten-year-old. “I guess I ruined your birthday.”

Jin rolls his eyes at that. “Don't be a drama queen. My birthday was great. Are we really going to have a fight about this? Are you that angry that I didn't like your cake?”

“I'm angry that you lied and paraded my failure around to your friends and staff, yes,” you say defiantly, arms crossing over your chest. There's no way that he's winning this argument and he absolutely knows this. Soaring past his breaking point, he shoves his hand into various boxes, grabbing whichever pastries his fingers gripped first and shoving them all into his mouth at once. You stare at him in shock. And he thinks you're the immature one?

“Jagiya,” he cries out, his cheeks puffed with the food packed into his mouth. Crumbs rain down onto his chest. He hesitantly holds out one of your creations, a mini blueberry muffin. “It's all so bad. I'm so sorry. It's so bad.”

Plucking it from his fingers, you pop it into your mouth like it's nothing. You baked it – you know how much effort and love and time went into these so they should taste heavenly.

Except … they don't. Eyes widening, you reach for the nearest trashcan and spit the disgusting wad of blueberry garbage into the bin. Is this why Jin and Jimin made fun of you? Is this what the cake tasted like?

How is it even possible for somebody to make baked goods taste that badly?

You crumple to the floor in tears, staring up at your boyfriend with blurred vision. “I'm sorry, Jin. You're right, it's terrible. I'm a complete failure.”

He spits out the remainder of the food in his mouth before sitting next to you, wiping your tears with the palm of his sweater. He shushes you as he pulls your body against his. “You're not a failure, Y/N.”

“Yes, I am. What kind of wife could I be for you in the future? If I can't even bake a cake, how am I going to be expected to cook actual meals?” you cry. Jin's stomach drops at the thought of you cooking him dinner but he tries not to let that show. “We'd be eating take-out every night and you'd get fat and they'd kick you out of BTS. I can't let you marry me.”

Your ridiculousness makes Jin laugh silently. He grips both sides of your face with his large hands, interrupting your tears and locking his gentle eyes with yours. “Stop crying, Y/N. I'm not worried about us as a married couple. I happen to be an excellent cook. I'll take care of all of our meals. I won't get fat and they won't kick me out of the group. I promise.”

“That doesn't make me feel better,” you admit, sniffling away the last round of tears. “What do I bring to this relationship then?”

“Y/N, we were fighting about cake and now you want to discuss the dynamics of our marriage that doesn't exist?” he asks in bewilderment. The look on your face tells him that you're dead serious. He sighs heavily. “If you must know, what you bring to the relationship is the most important thing. It's the best thing. It's the most important thing and you're the best at it.”

“Very cryptic but tell me more.”

He grins and instead of talking, he leans in to capture your lips with his. Despite being at the tail end of an argument, you respond eagerly and heatedly. The kiss lasts for about thirty seconds before he pulls away. “That.”

“That what?”

“That's what you're the best at. Kissing me. Nobody else is as good at it as you.”

You burst into laughter, immediately forgetting what you were so upset for. “So you do the cooking and I do the kissing? Is that how our marriage is going to work?”

Jin laughs. “It sounds pretty good to me.”

“Okay, then. Let's practice,” you pat his knee. “I'll take some pancakes please.”

“And you too. I'll take some kisses please,” he says, pursing his lips. You giggle as you raise up on your toes to kiss him deeply. When you separate a few seconds later, you're both red in the face and out of breath. “Wow, that just got you pancakes and hash browns.”

You grin. “Nice doing business with you, husband.”

After throwing every single one of the boxes away, you hop up onto a stool to watch your boyfriend make you breakfast. Yoongi saunters into the room when he's sliding the last of the pancakes onto a serving plate. “Hyung, did you make pancakes? I'm starving.”

You pull the plate away from him before he can grab for one, frowning sympathetically. “Ah, ah, ah. You're not supposed to be eating on that medication, remember?”

Jin can't help but throw himself over the counter in a fit of laughter as Yoongi stomps away in annoyance. Okay, maybe your sarcasm wasn't completely useless after all.

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