#not a single flattering photo in sight. as it should be

[dalkyum]

cursed dal moodboard ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა

#was looking for an excuse to post these. his bday works skdjsj #if nothing else I deeply appreciate yugyeom's brother's effort to make this dog into a meme #not a single flattering photo in sight. as it should be #I have no idea how to tag this lmao but I'm sure the target audience will find it (the 3 mutuals who think i'm funny) #I'm the middle one btw #up

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #smut #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

��� genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst 

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning? 

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”  

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“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.” 

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.” 

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.” 

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.” 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.” 

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.” 

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.” 

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!” 

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.” 

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across. 

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him. 

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.  

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now. 

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face. 

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more. 

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.” 

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?” 

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?” 

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move. 

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book. 

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg. 

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?   

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time. 

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her? 

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.  

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment. 

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct. 

You just seemed different. 

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!” 

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?” 

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!” 

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?” 

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air. 

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...” 

“Marriage, huh?” 

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away. 

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied. 

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him. 

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all. 

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?” 

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped. 

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated. 

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet. 

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life. 

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?” 

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage. 

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.  

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands. 

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man? 

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating. 

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall. 

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general. 

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his. 

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.” 

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly. 

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you. 

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go. 

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together. 

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back. 

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.” 

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.” 

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest. 

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands. 

It was kinda cute. 

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized. 

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.  

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.  

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now? 

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake. 

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct. 

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’. 

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest. 

You feel him tense underneath you. 

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory. 

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation. 

“Yes, so you do remember!” 

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding. 

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around. 

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait. 

Oh God, not him. 

Anything but him. 

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.  

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was? 

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be. 

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear? 

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something? 

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name. 

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!” 

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking. 

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering. 

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead. 

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable. 

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself. 

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong. 

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold. 

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep. 

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Better than ever. You?” 

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation. 

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively. 

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately. 

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you. 

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle. 

Dear God, you took your time with this one. 

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream. 

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight. 

“Who the fuck was that?” 

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for. 

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips. 

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore? 

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you? 

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours. 

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. 

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise. 

 “So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock. 

“Says the one who was thinking about me.” 

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you. 

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you. 

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.  

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall. 

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve. 

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband. 

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests. 

It was the day of the wedding. 

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today. 

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony. 

And none of it was your real choice. 

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite. 

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another. 

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own. 

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage. 

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself. 

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.  

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event. 

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.  

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept. 

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye. 

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself. 

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate. 

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips. 

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy. 

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate. 

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life. 

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love. 

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering. 

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality. 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.  

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you. 

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of. 

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from. 

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.  

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing. 

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light. 

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.  

He at least owed you that.  

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life. 

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection. 

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.   

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.  

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue. 

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner. 

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner. 

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested. 

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful. 

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official. 

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally. 

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play. 

The fool. 

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so. 

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again. 

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous. 

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains. 

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think. 

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe. 

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one. 

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.  

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move. 

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either. 

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him. 

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.  

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner. 

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room. 

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed. 

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him. 

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up. 

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?” 

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” 

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so. 

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush. 

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed. 

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight. 

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look. 

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting. 

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.  

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly. 

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution. 

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar. 

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things. 

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself. 

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked? 

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute. 

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.  

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss. 

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange. 

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it. 

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you. 

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve. 

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened. 

You took a deep breath. 

Maybe Taehyung is different after all. 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung arranged marriage au

[finelinevogue]

I am *respectfully* begging for a oneshot based off the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift🥺

okay let’s have a bit of fun with this mwhaha;

The moon was at full peak.

She was sat in the black canvas of a starry sky, shining down on the party below or at least so you thought she was. The flute glasses glowed under her brightness and bubbled with happiness. The pool was reflecting her image so beautifully. Everyone looked amazing in their gorgeous evening outfits of silk and lace, Gucci and Prada, chatting and laughing away as the night was close to striking midnight.

“Such a lovely party, Y/N.” Another guest thanked you, you not having the faintest idea of who they were.

You and Harry were hosting a dinner party in the back garden of his Malibu palace to celebrate his recent success over this past year. He’d had movie after movie, along with an album and a tour. He had done exceptionally well for himself, so he wanted to throw the most lavish party to celebrate with his friends and family that had helped him through it all. You had been in charge of organising food and a live band, Harry in charge of the guest list, Mitch in charge of decorations - bu really it had been Sarah - and Gemma in charge of the drinks; specifically champagne.

“I’m glad.” You smiled, as you poured yourself another glass of the bubbles. You felt the warmth of someones hand slide onto your exposed back, making you shiver with temptation and love.

“Have I told you just how beautiful you look this evening?” Harry spoke softly against your ear, kissing over the skin where his words had touched you.

He had been showing you off all night, always introducing you as ‘my beautiful girlfriend’ and keeping you close to him whenever he could. He would pull out his wallet and show people the picture he kept of you in there. It was one he’d taken of you laughing as you ran away from him on the beach. Even though the photo was black and white it was obvious how happy you were. He loved having you near and whenever someone said that they hadn’t seen you yet, he knew to go straight to the desserts table and find you shovelling yet another chocolate coated strawberry into your mouth not-so-gracefully.

“You have, but I won’t stop you if you want to do it again.” You replied, quite enjoying the flattering compliments. You’d dressed yourself in a silky evening gown that was in a deep red colour and Harry was having a hard time keeping his hands off of you. The front was v-cut, with the back completely open too, so it left your skin exposed for Harry to treat himself to. You turned around in his hold and pushed your body into his, making him hum in appreciation.

“I can’t stop thinking how much I want to kiss you.” He looked at your lips as he spoke, wanting to stain his own lips with the bold colour you’d painted on yours. You were so delicious and he wanted to devour every inch of you.

“Well what’s stopping you?” You reached a hand up to scrunch his curls under your fingers, the bracelets on your arm sliding down and jingling with another.

“Meet me upstairs in 5 minutes.” He replied, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity of what he was playing at.

“Should I ask why?”

“You shouldn’t, I don’t want to answer when my mum is standing just across the room.” He made you both chuckle, before leaning back from you to give you a quick once over. “Wow.” He breathed out, the biggest grin to his face. “5 minutes.”

And then he was gone.

You bit your lip as he rushed straight over to his mum and sister, who were both eagerly smiling at him. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little more at the sight. He was so innocent and full of love and happiness, you were so in awe of him and his beautiful qualities.

You did a quick scour of the room, making sure there were no unhappy faces, before heading in the direction of the bathroom to freshen up before visiting Harry. As you walked up the stairs you noticed a conversation between one of Harry’s cousins and one of his American friends, it sounded quite argumentative so you went to make sure everything was alright.

“You both okay?” You asked sweetly, your heels clicking on the floor as you approached them.

“God you’re just everywhere aren’t you?” The friend laughed, but you could tell she wasn’t laughing for a joke.

“I’m sorry?” You asked shocked at her tone, wondering what the problem was here.

“You’re so up in everyone else’s business always.”

“I don’t understand—”

“No of course you don’t. God, I understand why Harry finds you so annoying and clingy.”

“Kia—” The cousin gasped in shock of Kia’s words.

“No, you know i’m right Rachel just be quiet.” Kia shushed Rachel and brought her attention back to you.

“Harry thinks i’m clingy?” You asked, trying to understand what was really going on.

“That amongst lots of other things.”

“He would never. He loves me.” Your argued, slight tears in your eyes from letting her get to you like this. It was different than tabloids because you were actually hearing it from someone’s mouth, rather than an edited and faceless article. It stung so much more.

“And? Did you really think he would ever stick around for someone like you?” Kia laughed and then walked off, strutting her and her perfect body away from you and back to the main party area. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to understand what her words truly meant to you.

“Y/N…” Rachel tried to console you, but you didn’t want her. You wanted Harry and yet now you didn’t.

“Do you think all that too?” You asked quietly, scared to hear an answer. You got your answer though when she spoke nothing and tilted her head down in shame. You understood. “Okay, thank you.” You quietly said and tried your best to smile, but you knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

You started walking towards the stairs, thinking what this all meant. You always had a back thought that Harry was too good for you, but you just never let yourself be put in the position to think upon that thought. Now though. Now, you were thinking.

Of course you would be naive enough to think that your happily ever after would be with the one man who’s heart could be taken by every other woman on the planet. Even your university teacher had once talked about having a crush on him and he had only been 21 at the time. You never thought here, when he was 27, would you possibly be the one to hold his heart. You did, though, but it wouldn’t be forever - Kia was right, Rachel was right. Everyone knew, but you were just too blinded by his love for you right now to think that it will just wilt away in the future. You were a rose, beautiful and in it’s prime as it flourished on the love it was fed, but after time when even the smallest amounts of love are forgotten to be given the rose wilts and so dies. It’s forgotten about in turn and left to degrade itself into oblivion.

You walked the stairs slowly, completely numb to your core. How could all of 5 minutes turn your emotions 180° and permanently? Your brain ran over the thoughts and little moments that you should’ve picked up on before. Like, when Harry forgot your anniversary and blowing it off that he had been at some work-do but he’d really been at Karlie Kloss’ birthday party. Like, when Harry stopped sending you postcards when he was on tour. Like, when he did that heart-rate test and saw a picture of Camille, looking utterly stunning, on the Victoria Secret runway his heart beat was incredibly high. Is that what he wanted 30 years from now? A model? Someone who was in the same business as him and could understand. You tried to, you really did, but it was starting to feel like maybe you weren’t to be enough.

Making your way down the hallway this way, you couldn’t help but feel like it was for the last time. There was this gut feeling that whatever Harry wanted you for, was going to make sure you were both reminded why you couldn’t be together.

“Damn. You’re a vision.” Harry whistled and you then spotted him at the end of the hallway, the moon shining in through the window and lighting him up like the pure angel he was. You weren’t worthy of his heart. You could only chuckle, not having the passion to make a flirty comment back. Not anymore.

“Listen Harry—” “Okay I have to ask you—” You both talked at the same time, bringing only a nervous chuckle to your face.

“You first.” He offered.

“No, you.” You offered back and he took it.

“Okay, alright.” He breathed in heavily. “You’re so beautiful.” He started, making you blush a little but it was dim up here so you weren’t worried about him noticing. Hopefully he didn’t see the sadness in your eyes either.

“Thank you.” You replied humbly.

“And I want to be able to wake up and tell you that every single day—”

“Harry…” You cut him off, your heart having just dropped so low to the floor.

“Yes?”

“Is this…”

“If you let me continue, yes.” He laughed, thinking that you were happy for him to continue. He was about to, but you cut him off.

“Don’t.” You said, a shake in your voice that was very apparent.

“Don’t— what?” He asked confused, stepping closer to you and only for you to step back. He stopped when he noticed that he would not be able to make distance to you, furrowing his eyebrows and looking hurt. Really hurt. Pain that you and you alone were causing him.

“Don’t ask me the question I think you’re about to.” You held of your hand to both stop him coming closer and to stop him talking. “Just don’t.”

“Baby… what?” Harry asked confused, tears visible in his eyes now. He just wanted to be near you and understand.

“Harry… Don’t make me say it.” You warned him.

“Say what?”

“Harry…”

“Y/N, say what?”

“No!” You shouted, loud enough that people downstairs might’ve heard. “No, Harry. No. I won’t marry you.” You started to cry and let the tears fall freely. You deserved to feel like your heart had been ripped from your chest, the same way you deserved to cry forever. You deserved nothing but pain to repay the damage you’d caused Harry.

“Wha—” He started, but you were too selfish to stick around and watch him crumble. You shot off down the hallway and down the stairs, making your way to the front door. Luckily you didn’t have to go through the masses of people to face the disappointing faces. Luckily no one had to see your cries, except Kia. She was stood by the front door, holding out your coat already as if she were waiting for you.

“Kia what—”

“You thought this evening was for Harry? No. It was for you.” She shoved your coat to you, making you stumble back from the force.

“What?”

“This was your surprise engagement party, with the surprise being the fucking engagement. Everyone knew about it apart from you. He had this plan of asking you and then coming downstairs to everyone yelling surprise. Seems like you fucked that up though.” She sneered at you and your sobs fell from your throat harder than before, your makeup ruining the prettiness of your face as it ran from all the salty tears.

“But you…”

“I what? Said a bunch of bullshit? I was only saying things you’ve heard a million times before. I was making sure you were the right person for our Harry. Seems like you’re far from it.” She chuckled, shaking her head in disappointment at you.

“You’re cruel.”

“No, Y/N, you are. You just did the one thing that I would’ve never done; break Harry’s heart.” She looked at you in disgust before opening the door for you. You gave her one last look, hate in her eyes for you, before you walked outside with the door slamming forcefully behind you. Your heart being left besides Harry’s broken one.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #finelinevogue blurbs #finelinevogue masterlist #champagne problems #harry styles champagne problems #harry styles proposal blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #finelinevogue harry styles masterlist #harry styles song concept #harry styles taylor swift

[mobagehelllocal]

A/N: because I thought if would be funny and I’m still thinking about it. I did every single NRC character... except Ortho!

"twst cast reacts to their s/o and their 100 cm nesoberi of the twst character.” 

Riddle would stare in absolute disbelief as you happily presented your one-hundred-centimetre nesoberi of him to… well, him. “What do you mean I’m cute—!” He’ll attempt to protest, but he’s so caught off guard that the only thing he can really do is flush completely red and maybe stomp off. He’ll get pouty when you only hug the stuff toy in bed afterwards, but he won’t tell you to get rid of it. (Even if he secretly does want you to do so).

Ace would be all smirk and absolute arrogance. “Oh, you like me so much you got a stuff toy version of me?” He’ll watch as you carry it around in your embrace and he’ll tease you about how tightly you’re holding onto him too. He might even brag or talk about how cute you are to his friends… That all changes when he realizes you’re neglecting him in favour of the stuff toy. He’ll start getting jealous and might try to rip it out of your hands so that the real Ace could take its place.

Deuce’s first reaction is to separate you from the toy because he thinks its some weird prank from Ace or something. Then he’ll just be confused, “Wait—you bought a stuff toy version of me?” He’ll blush at how much you cuddle it—and he’s the type of person who will walk out while you cuddle ‘him’ because he feels like he’s intruding. He won’t tell you to get rid of it, but he does end up eyeing it weirdly.

Trey would be surprised—and probably really confused about it too. He doesn’t really react wildly to it, he might even treat it as some sort of pet? He’ll pat it on the head and… sometimes he’ll just squish its face. You will notice… that weird stuff happens though. Whenever Trey is over you’ll come into your bedroom and the stuff toy is deliberately positioned weirdly. One time, he pulled you in for heated kiss and from the corner of your eye—is the stuff toy facing the corner of the room? Upside down? “I didn’t do it.” Trey claimed but a mischievous spark in his eyes says otherwise.

Cater squeals. He thinks it’s absolutely cute and hang on—“Babe, do you have more merch of me? Can you bring it out? Quick! I want a photo~! #Mydarlinglovesme #Thisisthecutest #Catermerch.” He’s not exactly surprised that merchandise of him exists, however he is incredibly honoured that you would buy it. He’s not going to hate it too much and he’ll find it funny how he’s sharing you with another clone of his… As long as you remember who you’re dating first amongst them all of course!

Leona’s first reaction to it is to let out a hiss. There’s another cat invading his territory and he is far from happy. His first reaction is to grab it and destroy it with his Unique Magic. No, he’s not going to listen to you—he doesn’t care how much you might’ve spent on it. He’s getting rid of it right now. If it somehow survives longer than a day, every time he sees it in your hands—he’s just going to bristle like a possessive cat before—“That’s it. Hand it over right now, I’m going to dust that smug face—"

Jack… doesn’t really know how to react to it. He just crosses his arms and stares at it rather oddly. “So… you bought that…?” His tail is wagging just the littlest bits though, so you know that even if he’s not showing it—he actually is a little… thrilled that you wanted a stuff toy version of him. For some reason he starts treating it like it’s a member of his pact. Sometimes you’ll catch him talking to it and telling it to watch over you, “Take care of them, okay? They’re precious… to both of us.”

Ruggie just squints and he has a very confused, maybe even disturbed expression on his face. It’s a “I’m not judging you and your questionable use of money at all” expression. Other than that, I can see him just not really acknowledging it’s existence—maybe just patting it on the head sometimes. “Shishishi… What a waste of money.” he’ll say out loud even if there’s quite an indescribable tenderness on his face too.

Azul would be a straight up mix of embarrassment, pride, and horror. Embarrassment because he can’t believe you bought a stuff toy of him and you’re carrying it around, doting on it so much (“I need my octopus pot”). Pride exactly for the same reason too—he can’t believe he’s so lucky to have a lover who would so flamboyantly display their love for him like this… Though maybe tone it down a bit, please? Too much is embarrassing. And finally, he feels horror because, “YOU SPENT HOW MUCH MADOL ON THIS THING?”  

Jade starts off incredibly flabbergasted. He might stare, just completely dumbfounded for a bit as you parade the stuff toy around. Afterwards, I can see him responding with amusement over how much you dote on the stuff toy. He might just tease you over it too.  However, if it takes up too much of your attention, he becomes quite vengeful. One day you’ll come back to your room and see the stuff toy gone while Jade is standing there dusting his hands, “My, have you returned? Come my flower, your attention has been stolen away from me for too long… fufufu.”

Floyd just wants to get rid of it. He stares at it in stunned silence—it may be the quietest you’ve ever actually seen him. He’ll point at it accusingly, meet your gaze and just whisper a soft “Imposter.” Floyd then begins to have some sort of weird rivalry with the stuff toy—glaring at it, growling—he might even bite it as he rips is out of your arms. He won’t tell you to get rid of it, but it’s obvious that he wants to get rid of it. If he happens to want to cuddle with you and it’s in your arms? He’ll just grab the toy and toss it over his shoulder, uncaring of where it might land. “I’m not sharing you with anyone! Or anything!”

Kalim is thrilled? He’s just, “This is so cute! Wait, I should have one commissioned of you too so we can carry it around together! Hahah, should we get one made for Jamil as well?” (Jamil voice: “No. Don’t you dare—Oi! Kalim!”) Either way, Kalim will probably find a way to get a one-hundred-centimetre nesoberi of you as well. He’ll insist on the two of you going out on double dates with the huge stuff toys too. “It will be a lot of fun! Really!”

Jamil takes one long look at it before he sighs very deeply and shoots you a look. It’s a look of “why would you do this to me”, “please don’t show Kalim” and also a “I’m going to turn around and when I turn back around that better not be there and we can both pretend this didn’t happen.”  He’s not going to be the most outwardly flattered. He’ll just instantly be exhausted seeing it exist. He won’t actively tell you to get rid of it but he’ll pretend he never saw it. (Okay so maybe he can’t help a tiny smirk that curls up his lips as he sees you lovingly dote on… well… him.)

In Vil’s case, the nesoberi was a limited item that he was expected to hand out to the lucky lottery winner. He’s not so much stunned that the stuff toy exists, what really got him is when you merrily skipped onto the stage to claim it. There’s something like fond exasperation on his face and he’ll bend down to ask, “You know darling, I could’ve gotten one made for you if you wanted it so much.” At your dismissal and adamant note that “Of course I was going to win you fairly this time too!” Vil’s lips curled up into an arrogant smile. There was no winning against you. 

Epel‘s first instinct is to actually punch the stuff toy and if you protest—“What? It has a really punch-able face!” He’ll end up quite grumpy as he sees you give it so much attention. He doesn’t quite understand the point and his irritation somehow distracts him from the embarrassment of seeing you happily cuddle with the… thing. He also might not register that his irritation is jealousy at you giving your attention to something else too. He’ll have glaring matches with the thing muttering, “it’s not that cute.”

Rook… well, jokes on you. You went to try to get a reaction out of him by presenting him a stuff toy only to walk in on him organizing his own collection of one-hundred-centimetre nesoberis. The pride of his collection being one he commissioned of you (the rest of his collection you ask? Why there’s a Vil, a Neige… and is that a Leona one—?) Something he won’t tell you however, is that he does feel the slightest bit thrown off that you managed to get a stuff toy version of him… “You truly are a thrill to be with, surprising me like this—Mon Monarque.”

Idia blushes furiously at the sight of the nesoberi. Out of everyone else, he understands what you mean by showing him this. That he’s your favourite person—and though it embarrasses him, he also feels honoured by the fact you had a nesoberi of him commissioned. He’ll shyly ask, “So… would it be okay if I get merch of you too?” Once he has permission, he’s enthusiastically commissioning his favourite artists for a nesoberi of you. Sooner or later his room would be filled with figurines of you two and fanart as well!

Malleus will start out thinking it’s really amusing… and how adorable for his bright light to have picked up a toy resembling him and cuddling with it as well. He might end up cooing quite a bit as he watches you hug it. However, there will be a point where Malleus will start getting lonely. He’ll feel as if you’re forgetting to invite him out because you had the stuff toy to hang out with instead. He might sulk and watch from quite a distance. When you invite him out, he might pettily bring up the stuff toy instead. “Ah, my bright light… to think you can make me feel like a child again…”

You surprise Lilia for quite a few minutes before he tosses his head back and laughs. He’s absolutely amused by the fact that you have managed to purchase a nesoberi of him. He’ll probably borrow it for a bit, twisting and turning it—remarking about how the craftsmanship was excellent. Then he’ll ask you if he can borrow it longer so he can play pranks on the whole Diasomnia. He’ll pretend to have been turned into a stuff toy, “Come now love, it will be fun to watch them all panic~!”

Silver just blinks very slowly as he stared at the stuff toy then you and back… He just shrugs it off and proceeds to flop down right on top of it. He’ll note that hey, it’s pretty soft before conking out. Eventually he grows to be fond of it as a pillow and he’ll often use it as a pillow if you’re too busy doing something else. At the end, it will be you who’d get all pouty when you realize he doesn’t cuddle as much with you because he can do it with the stuff toy. One time he’ll go over your place and blink in surprise when you’ve hidden it away. He’ll laugh softly before he’ll tug you gently onto the bed for a cuddle, “Silly, of course you’re still my favourite one to cuddle.”

Sebek’s mouth falls open in shock as he catches sight of the stuff toy. He opens and closes his mouth several times, his face slowly turning complete red before he promptly loses it—“Why do you have a stuff toy of me!?” Sebek literally has no idea how to deal with this. His feelings are somewhere in between complete embarrassment and exasperation. He will refuse to acknowledge it’s existence, he’ll pretend it never happened and he never saw it. It really is fun for you though, because whenever you bring it out the boy’s immediately blushing and stuttering.

I feel like Dire would just stand, stunned for a bit as he stared at the stuff toy. With the mask in the way, you won’t be able to truly tell how he feels—but once it sinks in that yes you are in fact, clutching a stuff toy version of him—he’ll recoil in surprise. He’s someone who’ll exaggerate his surprised by hopping backwards, raising his hands in the air as he peers at you with wide yellow eyes. “E-eh!? Why do you have a stuff toy of me?” I think he’ll just be amused (and maybe slightly petty if it steals your attention too much).

Divus would be surprised then flattered. His smirk is wide as he draws closer to you—eyes meeting your own before he bent down to touch the toy. He’ll probably look at it for a bit, noting that it’s captured him well. “How cute. It seems I don’t really need to get you a toy myself, do I, pet?” He won’t be too irritated seeing it take up your attention. He’s someone who won’t be threatened because he knows exactly how to get your attention. He’ll do it when he thinks you deserve a little punishment for ignoring him.

“IN-STOCK NOW~!” Sam pointed dramatically at the one-hundred-centimetre nesoberi of himself with a wide easy going and incredibly smug grin. You probably didn’t think it was possible for his smile to get even more smug as you pulled out the cash to actually purchase the item. I don’t really think he’ll mind much over seeing you cuddle it almost pettily after he practically scammed you. If anything, I think he’d think it’s pretty cute you think you can get back at him by only paying attention to the nesoberi!Sam.

Mozus would just have a very exhausted, deadpanned expression as he studies the huge stuff toy on the bed. Lucius on the other hand, is incredibly thrilled and will pounce the new toy giddily. Eventually you and Lucius might end up having a sort of cute rivalry over it—where you just want your cuddle toy and Lucius just wants his bed. Mozus is slightly weirded out by how much enjoyment Lucius seems to have lying down on this stuff toy version of him. “Don’t even say a thing my dear, I fear I don’t want to know.”

Ashton’s immediate reaction to this new huge thing on your bed is “how heavy is it?” and “can I use it as a weight?” I don’t think they’re as heavy as he wants them to be though, so he’ll be disappointed for a bit. He’ll then brighten up when he realizes that it’s actually a stuff toy version of him and he’ll happily yell, “You got a stuff toy of me? How cute!” He’ll just straight up think it’s adorable that you got one and likely chance, he’ll try to get one of you too to match.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #aiwrites #twst riddle #twst ace #twst deuce #twst trey #twst cater #twst leona #twst jack #twst ruggie #twst azul #twst jade #twst floyd #twst kalim #twst jamil #twst vil #twst epel #twst rook #twst idia #twst malleus #twst lilia #twst silver #twst sebek #twst dire #twst divus #twst sam #twst mozus #twst ashton

[local-ground-apple]

Can i get a oneshot where Azul finds out about reader's secret "pics of Azul Ashengrotto when he's not looking" magicame account lol

oh yes, the only magicam account that got more followers than Vil and Cater

wait for “Oh Azul, your radiant beauty is an art” discourse under the cut.

alternative title: Koebi-chan turns into sneaky snake to immortalise the beauty of local octopus who for once doesn’t know how to turn this situation into a contract feat.  neighbourhood-friendly eels dying from laughter

“Azul, I think you should see this”

Jade passed his phone to Azul who was engrossed in his paperwork. With a heavy sigh, he shifted his attention from recent golden contract and looked at the screen. His eyes widen at the sight of pictures.

Pictures of him.

Lot of photos on one blog titled: “Pictures of Azul Ashengrotto taken when he’s not looking”

,,It’s surprisingly quite popular account”

Jade remarked not sparing a single glance at Azul who was going through an existential crisis. He was anxiously scrolling through countless picture taken, as the description of magicam account stated, when he was not looking.

Him doing some homework, him preparing a special golden contract, him burning his fingers on boiling hot tea or even him looking at the star-studded sky.

When someone could have taken those pictures? Why? Does he have a stalker? Wasn’t he the one who occasionally stalked people?

Multiple questions run through Azul’s head as his hand run through his hair. He let out a heavy sigh, not even bothering to listen to Floyd who was having a time of his life. Eel sat comfortably in his chair and was dying from laughter.

Azul’s secret admirer and stalker? That octopus having a secret fan-blog? How amusing~~ What unfortunate soul could be so engrossed in that fishy businessman?

“Who runs it? Names, Jade, I need names.”

Oh, so octopus entered the “feral disposure mode”, remarked Floyd who licked his lips in anticipation. Oh how he couldn’t wait to squeeze some poor, unfortunate souls.

“Ohhh, yess, we could squeeze that little admirer of yours”

,,I doubt Azul will let you after I reveal who it is”

Jade cut in, making everyone confused. Floyd’s wide grin slightly faltered and Azul raised an eyebrow.

“Ne, ne Jade, don’t keep us in suspension~~”

“It’s Y/N.”

The sound of your name entailed various reactions. Jade only chuckled seeing Azul going through another crisis, as his eyes widen and he was left utterly speechless, while Floyd was (once again) dying from laughter.

“Koebi-chan? THAT Koebi-chan??! It couldn’t get funnier!”

Exclaimed Floyd while Azul was still engrossed in his thoughts.

It suddenly made sense.

The way you would observe him, constantly on your phone when he was taking care of contracts or paperwork. Stealing secret glances and giggling and always dismissing his questions when he asked what made you laugh.

Given that you were dating Azul and he was a busy businessman, you were a rather special guest at Mostro Lounge and recently you’ve been spending there more time than in your own dorm.

“I mean it’s kind of fair. I send you to spy on her and she spies on me in return”

Remarked Azul with a heavy sigh, quickly pushing up his glasses and standing up. He was determined to leave his cabinet before Leech twins tease him or make fun of that blog any further. He caught a glimpse of Floyd opening his lips to throw some nasty and vicious remarks at him and Jade’s eyes were glowing with mischief.

It was high time to evacuate and excuse himself of the room.

Azul had a bigger fish to take care of than Leech twins.

It seemed that his angelfish gone a little bit too far.

                                                            …

,,Y/N dear, could you perhaps explain this?”

,,Right, Shrimpyy~~!! Why would you take so many pictures of Azul when you could just admire me!”

Azul’s deadly calm and cold voice as well as two pairs of arms wrapping up around you, successfully pulled you out from redoing mock papers for alchemy. You let out a loud shriek and jumped at the sudden contact.

Ignoring Floyd and his tightening with each passing second grip, you focused on the screen which Azul was practically showing in your face.

“Oh, you found that?”

You were stunned. You knew the day of your doom will come sooner or later, so you were prepared for every possible scenario. Yet, that didn’t stop you from screaming internally as multiple thoughts run through your brain.

Oh shit. I knew that was a bad idea. What were I thinking? That guppy brain of mine! Please sir, don’t let those eels squeeze me. If that’s how I shall go down, at least I’ve left a worthy legacy.

Azul quickly remarked your flushed face as you fiddled with your thumbs nervously. You tried to wriggle out of the twins’ grip, but your attempts were quickly proved to be futile. Much to Floyd’s dismay you soon stopped struggling and instead you decided to fake your confidence.

Baffle them with your bullshit, usually seemed to be a good strategy.

The other choice would be to seduce Azul, but you weren’t sure if you were able to put on the show right in front of twins.

“I took excellent pictures, didn’t I? I even made sure the light was perfect on each of them. Oh, look at this one! You looked suuuuuper handsome that day, didn’t you? You’re rarely that cheerful and your smile causes flowers to bloom in a 50 meter radius. So it’s only natural that I felt the need to make that look last forever~”

You ignored Floyd’s laughter, subtle chuckles from Jade and Azul who was not only confused and wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or ask you to continue rabbiting on. His face flushed and he tried his best to still appear “collected and calm”, but you could see through his façade.

Azul was actually flattered that you found him worthy of not even a single picture but a whole blog dedicated to his beauty, as you phrased it.

“Y’know, you’re a walking art and I couldn’t help myself but to immortalise it!”

You exclaimed with a bright smile and you lower your head slightly, so hair could do you a favour and hide your embarrassment which was written all over your hair.

“Awwww, Jade, aren’t they such cuties~~~”

,,I think we should leave them alone Floyd”

And with that Jade excused them, leaving you with frustrated Azul who kind of wanted to scold you for taking pictures without his permission and kind of wanted you to shower him with even more praises.

He was greedy, insatiable and desired more.

You giggled seeing his flushed face. You hesitantly came closer, standing right before him. You quickly cut the remaining distance and your forehead touched his, resting in that place. Azul sighed deeply and his gloved hand reached to run through your hair.

“What should I do with you, angelfish, hmm?”

,,Well, you could perhaps kiss me?”

You suggested with a sly smile, making Azul let out a barely audible chuckle. He slightly shook his head and you felt the tension leaving his body.

“You know there’s price for that.”

“Dang, you want me to delete that blog, don’t you?”

,,Y/N you should delete that blog, so my image could appear more professional”

You pouted dramatically, pulling away from him. Before Azul could clarify himself, you cut him.

“Well, that’s a shame depriving all those people from your radiating beauty!”

Well, maybe you were going a bit overboard with the amount of praises and dramatic power it entailed.

Either way, Azul lost it.

Instead of collected and meticulous octopus you saw a determined and frustrated man who was more than eager to protest.

,,No, no, Y/N. I should be THE ONE who should be complementing you and worshipping you, but about that price”

He exclaimed and you only giggled in response as Azul took you in his arms. He began leaving delicate, butterfly kisses on your neck in breaks incoherently mumbling praises.

Your lips soon got captured by chapped lips which tasted like water and salt into a delicate, gentle kiss. It almost made you forget about the slight sadness you had felt when Azul asked you to delete your blog. Instead his next words between nibbling on your skin, made you stunned and worried.

“Instead I should make a blog full of pictures of you, my angelfish, to return the favour”

“W-wait!”

“But could you perhaps continue with your whole “Oh Azul, your radiant beauty is an art” discourse. I would love to hear more”

BONUS:

“How did I not find out about this earlier? I’m literally tagged in every picture”

“I blocked you”

“YoU wHaT”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland writing #azul ashengrotto #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland imagine #twst x mc #twst x reader #twst azul #twst azul x reader #leech twins #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland x mc #floyd leech #jade leech #octavinelle #requested #feels for tweels #save that poor guppie brain of yours #twst fluff #azul #jade #floyd #azul's radiant beauty

[rivers-rambles21]

The one where Y/n’s a tease

Part 4 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from  a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different  point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cockwarming (later chapters)

Will include elements of TFATWS in later chapters

Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

I now realise the general theme is Y/n not being able to find her keys.

Whoever invented sundresses either needed a medal or slap. Bucky was in agony. The city was in the middle of a heat wave and neither of you could get comfy. You’d taken to dressing in sundresses every day, the soft fabric having a tendency to rise higher and higher up your legs throughout the day. There was something about the way they hung on every curve, how they framed your chest and revealed inch upon inch of tanned skin. 

You’d met one another in Central Park, intending on grabbing an ice cream and relaxing in the sun after a challenging day at work.

“He’s such a dick, I can’t see how they can make it compulsory to attend but won’t pay over time!”

Bucky merely nodded in response; he’d quickly learnt you’d rather he listen to your rants than fix your issues. 

“If I could change jobs I’d do it in a heartbeat” You continued as you reached the front of the icecream queue. 

“Hi, one strawberry and one mint choc chip please - oh and make the mint one two scoops” Bucky dug around in his back pocket before pulling out his wallet, handing over a few bills to the server. “Thank you.” He took both cones and handed you your favourite. 

“I’ll get the next one” You promised. Without thinking, you took a long lick of your icecream, moaning as the coldness hit your tongue. 

Bucky choked. 

“C’mon lets get somewhere cooler, you look hot” Your eyes bugged out as you realised what you’d said. “I mean you look warm! With your long sleeves and gloves!” You were quick to correct yourself which earnt a chuckle from the man besides you.

It didn’t take long for you both to reach a quiet vacant area which offered a gratuitous amount of privacy. Dropping down onto the grass, you stretched your legs out as you continued eating your icecream. 

“Do you mind?” Bucky asked, holding out his cone. You took it from him as he peeled his gloves off, sighing as the gentle breeze hit his fingers. He then began trying to roll up the sleeves on his henley, grunting in frustration as it got caught on his forearm. 

You glanced around double checking there was no one in sight before offering a solution. “You could just take it off, would do your skin some good, getting a bit of colour” 

Taking another lick of your icecream you attempted to look indifferent on the matter. 

Bucky took a hold of the bottom of his shirt before pausing. 

“What’s up?” You asked, taking another bite from your ice cream. 

“The scar isn’t the prettiest to look at.” He confessed, his head bowed in embarrassment. 

Your elbow jutted out and nudged him, forcing him to look back at you “Hey… it’s only me” You smiled back at him, trying to reassure him how little you cared about the scar.

He smiled back before taking the plunge and lifted the shirt over his head. You tried, you really did but you couldn’t help but stare at his chest. To say he was ripped would be an understatement. You weren’t overly bothered when it came to body types but fuckkk his was doing something to you. 

Snapping yourself out of your trance you noticed how his shoulders hunched over, as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible. 

“Trust me when I say this Buck, no one will be looking at your scar.” You laughed, fanning yourself in an attempt to boost his confidence and take the edge off. 

He chuckled in response and visibly relaxed, the pink in his cheeks growing from not only the heat. 

You handed him his ice-cream back and returned to your earlier conversation. Your prick of a boss had reiterated today how important it was you attended the charity gala that night, some bullshit about being a team player. 

In the midst of yet another rant, Bucky hadn’t been able to take your eyes off you. You looked radiant in the sun, a single bead of sweat every now and again trailed from your neck, down into the valley of your breasts. It took all his self discipline to not reach over and have a taste. And then there was the damned ice cream. He shouldn’t have ordered you two scoops as you took your sweet time licking and sucking on it, completely oblivious to the show you were putting on for him. What he’d do to replace that ice-cream with - no he couldn’t let his mind wander there. He felt his cock twitch as he watched you swallow the cream, your throat bobbing with the motion. 

“I reckon if I implement the Jim Halbert approach I’ll be home by ten” 

“The what now?”

“Jim? From The Office?” 

“You’ve lost me doll. I don’t remember you mentioning Jim before? Is he in Legal?”

“It’s a TV show, he basically said you should have a memorable moment with the host and take a photo to prove you were there. Once that’s done you can leave without it being questioned.” You handed Bucky your empty cone without question, it had become somewhat of a habit. You ordered two scoops and he finished off your cone. 

He took it from you and finished it in a couple of bites. 

“Well if you make it through and get home early enough I’ll order us some pizza and we’ll spend the rest of the night watching The Office, deal?”

“Deal”

_______________________________________________

You made it back in record time. You laughed, even danced with a few people, took a couple of photos and was there for when your boss got slapped by one of the waiting staff much to your delight. In and out in under 2 hours! 

“Hey Buck! Have you ordered yet?” You yelled as you knocked on his apartment door, looking for your keys with your other hand. “C’mon where are you” You muttered.

Bucky's door swung open and was instantly stunned at your appearance. He hadn’t seen you before you left for the evening and he was glad he hadn’t as he was sure he would’ve crossed a line. Your dress was strapless and fell to the floor, hugging every curve you had. The black velvet looked soft to touch and flattered your chest.

“Wow” 

Your head snapped up and looked back at the man in front of you. His eyes trailed up from your legs, over your stomach and to your chest before meeting your eyes. 

“How do I scrub up?” You joked, giving him a twirl. 

“Beautiful doll” Your cheeks flushed at his compliment and you looked back into your purse, struggling to locate your keys. 

“Can I come in?” 

He stepped to the side and gestured you in. Once in his kitchen you turned your purse upside down, realising your worst fear. “Oh god, this can’t be happening.” 

“Whats up?” Bucky decided to torture himself and stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I’ve left my key in my apartment” Not realising how close he was, you leant forward, your head falling into your hands as your elbows rested on the counter. Unintentionally, your ass had stuck out, pressing back into Bucky's crotch. The super soldier couldn’t believe his eyes, it was as though the very fantasy he’d played out in his head countless times was finally coming true. From this angle he couldn't help but imagine gripping your hair as he pounded into your tight pussy, filling his apartment with your screams as you milked his cock for all its worth. 

Before he could get away from himself he took a step backwards, despite every fibre of his being screaming at him not to. 

He wasn’t the only one affected as butterflies exploded in your stomach, your core aching with the possibilities of what lied beneath his jeans. But, before you had a moment to enjoy it, the moment was over and Bucky, ever the gentleman, had stepped aside. 

“I’ll call the super” You grumbled. 

“I’ll order the pizza” He replied all too quickly.

20 minutes later and you were at your wits end. It took forever to get through to the super and when you eventually did, you were hardly reassured by his response. He’d advised he would try and get to you within the next two hours but he wasn’t making any promises - so much for looking after your tenants. 

“Am I okay to hang out here with you until he arrives?” 

Bucky simply raised his eyebrow, finding it amusing you’d even have to ask. 

“Thanks Buck” Lifting your hands to your hair, you started removing the pins, letting your head relax. Whilst putting your hair down you couldn't hide your discomfort in your dress as it restricted your movement. 

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?”

“That would be amazing” 

You watched as he went off into his bedroom - could you even call it that considering there wasn’t a bed? You sighed in relief as you ran your fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, welcoming the relief.

“I’ve left them in the bathroom for you” 

“Thanks Buck” You flicked your heels off your tired feet before padding into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind you. It didn’t take long for you to change into the sleep shorts and t-shirt he’d given you. Using your hair tie, you tightened the pants to stop them from falling down. Rolling your bra into your dress, you returned from the bathroom feeling far better than you did when you entered. 

“Better?” He asked, pizza box in hand as he pulled two plates from the cupboard

“Much” You replied, sitting down on one of the dining chairs. 

An hour later and you were both stuffed and the effect of the beers you’d been stealing from Buckys fridge were starting to have an effect. 

“C’monnnn it will be fun!” You whined as you tried your best to tuck your toes under Buckys leg in an attempt to warm them up.

With a sigh he lifted your feet from under him and stood from his seated position, heading back towards his bedroom. Returning a moment later, he resumed his original position and started slowly slipping socks onto your cold toes. 

“I’m waiting doll” 

His voice snapped you out of your trance - you’d been watching his every movement, how he gently cradled your feet as he slid a sock onto each one before squeezing them gently.

“Okay, I’m going to fire these over to you quickly so just respond with whatever comes to mind okay?” 

He nodded in response.

You scrolled through the list on your phone before settling on a set of questions.

“Favourite snack?”

“Cashews”

“Favourite Avenger?”

“Cap”

“Least favourite Avenger?”

“Hawkeye”

“Huh wow didn’t - anyway! Age you had your first kiss?”

“12”

“Age you lost your virginity?”

“17”

“Favourite place?”

“Wakanda”

“Any secret talents?”

“I can play the piano”

“Really?”

Bucky nodded in response, taking another swig of his beer.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Cats”

“Favourite neighbour?”

“Y/N” 

You smiled at that one before becoming a little bit braver. 

“Favourite position” You asked, mumbling your words as you quickly took a sip of your drink. 

“What was that?”

“Favourite...position” You repeated, meeting his eyes.

Bucky gulped, his eyes not moving from yours. “Cow girl when I’m generous, missionary when I’m in control” 

You blinked a couple of times, your mind racing as you processed his words. 

“Good..too...uh… know” You gulped before racing to the next question, trying your best to not think about just what he meant by generous and in control. “City or country?”

“Country” 

“Bike or car?” 

Before he could respond your phone chirped, signalling a notification. Glancing down, you read the message - Won’t be able to make it tonight, will try and get there in the morning

“Fuck.” You muttered, clearing the notification from your screen. 

“What’s up?”

“I won’t be getting into my apartment until tomorrow, do you mind if I stay here?” 

Bucky looked towards his bedroom, his heart sinking when he remembered he didn’t have a bed. Reading his expression, you began “The floor is fine, I don’t mind-” 

“No” he replied, cutting you off. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Bucky thought it was bad enough you had to hang out in his sorry excuse for an apartment but hell would freeze over before he allowed you to sleep on the hard floor. “I’ve got an idea.” 

You watched as Bucky opened his door and walked out into the hallway. He started fiddling with the window which filled the back wall between your two apartments; the lock snapping under his strength. Lifting it up, he swung his leg over the ledge, landing on the fire escape. 

“Buck, what are you doing?” You whispered, conscious of your neighbours and the late hour. 

He took a step backwards and leant down, his face visible through the window as he stared at you, his eyebrow raised slightly as though he was wondering if you really just asked that. 

“Just… be careful okay?” 

He nodded in response and went back to the task at hand. 

A few seconds later you heard another snap and the sound of your window opening. Moments later your apartment door swung open with a smug Bucky on the other side. 

“My hero” You beamed up at him, your appreciation evident on your face. 

You quickly went back into his apartment, gathering your things in your arms. 

“I’ve wedged the window shut so you’re safe for the night, I’ll get you a replacement lock in the morning.” 

Returning to your apartment, you dumped your belongings on the side table, turning back to Bucky. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You confessed, overcome with admiration. Before you lost your nerve, you pressed your body against his, your arms looping around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You held in a sigh as you felt his arms respond and wrap around your waist, returning your embrace. Rather reluctantly, you pulled back as did Bucky, his arms returning back to his sides. 

“Goodnight doll” 

“Night Bucky” 

You slowly closed your door and smiled to yourself. Tugging his sleep pants down your legs, you folded them up and left them on top of your discarded dress. After completing your nightly routine, you sank into your soft bed sheets, inhaling Bucky’s scent left behind on his tshirt, silently wishing it was himself wrapped around your naked body and not his top. 

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #tfatws

[fellulahh]

What he’s like on a night out (all characters) CHAOTIC

Lucifer:

- Lucifer always embarrasses himself on a night out without fail. Usually he’s all composed and serious but as soon as he’s has too much to drink he’s incredibly clingy and soppy

- Tells his brothers how much he loves them, gushing over how wonderful they are and how proud he is to be related to them (he’s almost like an embarrassing parent)

- Confides in MC, expressing how he hopes he isn’t too harsh on his brothers

- Ends up confessing how much MC means to him when they’re talking; basically says everything he refuses to admit while sober

Mammon:

- he just follows MC around everywhere for the entire duration of the night

- Introduces everyone to MC and says that they’re his partner which earns him a playful slap

- He’s a bit of a big kid, he’s always tugging on Lucifer’s arm saying ‘hey, hey Lucifer! Watch this!’ And then does something really stupid and pointless

- Once he’s really drunk you could probably find him somewhere chatting up a plant

- Has to be carried home because he’s wasted but that doesn’t stop him from singing a duet with MC on their way back to the house

Levi:

- Oh this demon cuts some shapes on the dance floor!

- He starts off the night really quiet, hiding behind his brothers wishing he’d never gone but after having some shots with MC and Mammon, he becomes completely wild

- Him and MC basically have a dance battle in the middle of the room with Levi winning every time without fail

- The brothers and MC - no matter how drunk they all are - end up just staring at him with open mouths because he has everybody surrounding him while he busts a move

Satan:

- he becomes incredibly smooth while he’s drunk. Usually when he’s sober he can make some comments toward MC that make them blush but as soon as he’s had a drink he doesn’t hold back

- Has a constant smirk on his face, he becomes the biggest flirt. All eyes are on him as he flips his blonde locks

- Waltzers up to MC about 30 times throughout the night, leaning on the bar to tell them how enchanting they look

- There’s no way he’s ending the night without at least a kiss with how much of a smooth criminal he is

Asmo:

- he’s basically every drunk girl in the bathroom at a club - he is the kindest, most sweetest thing you’ll ever meet!

- Anyone that he talks to, he’ll compliment their outfit, saying how flattering it is on them and how much he loves it

- Screams when he hears his favourite song come on, practically deafening the brothers

- Does a lot of drunk dancing and shots with Solomon; they’re effectively partners in crime on a night out

- If MC gets their feelings hurt by one of the brothers or a random demon, Asmo’s the one who will be motivating them, “you don’t need them! You’re fucking beautiful, you could get anyone you want!”

Beel:

- Beel’s that person that randomly disappears throughout the night and you don’t see them for a good hour and then you end up finding them in the smoking shelter with a new group of friends

- Spends the entire night asking ‘are we getting a kebab after this? Is it time for the kebab yet? When are we getting a kebab?’

- Gets excited whenever he bumps into MC and will carry them over his shoulder insisting that they dance together

- He also carries Belphie out of the club when they leave because his twin passed out

Belphie:

- Belphie’s quite naughty on a night out - he won’t get as drunk as everybody else but he’ll still be a bad influence on them

- He’s basically the little devil whispering in everybody’s ear ‘you think you want a jäger bomb? They’ve got an offer on so get 4. You want to try and get a picture of Lucifer cuddling up to Simeon? Do it, he’ll love you for it!’

- Drunk Belphie causes chaos and he loves it

- He’s also the one to take all of the embarrassing videos and photos

- 100% gets kicked out of the club for passing out in one of the booths though

Diavolo:

- he is absolutely WILD, he’s 100% the life of the party doing stupid stuff to entertain everyone; this demon radiates big dick energy and it works because MC is all over him

- Diavolo flexes a lot, he will take every opportunity to try and woo MC, boasting about something random like how many bathrooms he has in his palace

- He’s that demon that smashes beer cans on his head before drinking them

- He always has a crowd following him because he’s the Prince of Devildom!

- Buys drinks for everyone in the club - they adore their future King

Simeon:

- even when drunk, Simeon is still pretty reserved - he’ll stay close with MC and the others and won’t disappear

- He’s the most rational drunk, you wont catch him doing anything ridiculous like some of the others

- However, he will randomly surprise you though. Everyone will be dancing when suddenly a really sexual song will come on

- Sinful Simeon then comes out and starts rolling his hips, doing slut drops and grinding against MC (and Lucifer)

- Nobody knows whether they should be gobsmacked or turned on!

Solomon:

- he spends the entire night trying to chat up the various demons; trying to get an insight into their world

- Tries to flex that he’s a human but that doesn’t really count for much in Devildom

- He also tries to make a deal with the brothers on why they should make a pact with him; although Solomon is completely intoxicated so he probably doesn’t make much sense to them

- Whines to MC, ‘HOW have you got a pact with all of them?!’

- When he’s not busy approaching demons, he’s searching the club for Asmo

Barbatos:

- he has a hard time remembering that he’s got the night off. If somebody mentions that they’re thirsty Barbatos’ natural instinct is to say ‘allow me to get that for you’

- Once he’s had a few to drink, Diavolo has to keep pulling him by the collar because Barbatos keeps trying to sneak behind the bar to help them out with orders

- He’s actually incredibly blunt while intoxicated and can say some absolutely SAVAGE things to the others (i.e ‘Satan please stop whining about Lucifer. We all know it’s because you just want him to acknowledge you as his son.’)

Luke:

- he’s resting in bed staring at his clock on the wall thinking ‘where in heavens are they??’

- Lowkey misses his Papa Simeon

BONUS: What they do when they get home:

Lucifer:

- Hugs the router takes MC by the hand in the hallway and insists they dance with him, he doesn’t want the wonderful evening to end!

Mammon:

- Immediately retreats to his bedroom and sits in one of his many cars going ‘vroooooooom vroom’

Levi:

- Naruto runs through the door, he’s still cutting shapes all the way to his bedroom, whipping out the ‘just dance’ game as soon as he enters

Satan:

- he escorts a very flustered MC to his bedroom where their drunken flirting can continue!

Asmo:

- goes to every single bedroom to wish everybody a goodnight, saying how much he loves them all

Beel:

- after taking Belphie up to bed he raids the kitchen and eats everything in sight, tries to order 6 different takeaways until he realises he’s calling the restaurants with a calculator

Belphie:

- he just gets carried to bed by Beel, Belphie can never remember how he gets home from a night out, let alone how he made it to bed

Diavolo:

- he gets all whiny because he wants to go to the House of Lamentation. Instead he walks through his palace shouting ‘SO MANY BATHROOMS!”

Simeon:

- practically breaks down the door to Luke’s room, “hello!! How’s my precious little cherub doing, did you miss your papa?”

Solomon:

- immediately runs upstairs and puts on the Harry Potter series, trying to convince himself he’s a powerful wizard too

Barbatos:

- tries to help Diavolo to bed but ends up stumbling through the palace and passing out in one of the hallways

MC:

- Satan

——

Phew! That was a big one. What character are you most like on a night out?

#obey me #obey me shall we date

[trash-gobby]

I honestly thought I was gonna have a hard time on this website because I've heard horror stories about how Tumblr is super toxic for writers posting content and stuff, but I've been pleasantly surprised over the past three months of being here. I don't think I've gotten a single horrible person saying nasty crap on my blog. I have only had really kind patient people, and some people who were critical, but in a positive and constructive way. This might be because I've found the right community where people are generally pretty chill, but I also think that the things I've heard about this website might also be a bit exaggerated.

Anyway! I want to say thank you to all the wonderful people who have, lurked, been really fantastic mutuals, followers, anons, and general requesters! You guys have really made me feel welcome here and like my writing (while needing work) isn't the worst thing on the face of planet earth. I love being a part of the horror community, and other communities (especially the Bishop people and Dark City, and James Bond fandoms, shout out to y'all 🤠), and I hope to meet many more wonderful and creative people through this sight!!!

Wishing a happy holidays & New Year to the mutuals and others who have been so kind, and the 2018 people who sticked around following my dumb ass! You all rock and are great human beings who I believe can succeed at anything you put your mind to!!!: @gaycowboywizard (real life bestie who does way to much work proofreading for me. I should pay you). @horror-obsessed (first follower who writes amazing content on their main account @beoneofus . Please check them out! It's totally worth it). @pitiful-anonymous-vampire (also one of the first people to follow, has made me feel extremely welcome on this platform. Thank you for the capybara photos. They sustained me through exam period.). @ninjettey (who kicked off my ask box obsession with my first ever ask. Thank you for giving me such a creative ask :D. Also writes stuff, so please give them a read). @dogboy-tim (thanks for sending in multiple creative asks and reblogging my stuff! I really appreciate the interaction and the kindness!!! They write as well and extremely well at that, so give them a read and follow). @myers-meadow & @chop-top-suey (frequent active followers and I love seeing you guys in my feed too! Both an amazing writer and artist! If you follow me you should follow them!!!). @judge-arts (who has been a good internet friendo and person I've talked to about our mutual obsession with Bishop!!! Thanks for making me feel welcome in that niche but wholesome side of fandom, it warms my tiny goblin heart. Also check out their art, it's extremely intricate 3D work and it's beautiful). @civitvs (who wrote a whole fanfic based on headcanons I made and deserves some praise for taking time out of their day to do so. I'm so flattered. Here is their AO3 link. Please go show them some love.)

Honestly there are so many people I want to thank that go beyond the list I've made of mutuals who I wanted to shout out. If I've missed people, know that I still see you, and that I appreciate you sticking around. I just always feel thankful and mushy around this time of the year, so I wanted to let everyone who interacts, lurks, or follows to know that I appreciate all of you and If you ever feel like your having a bad day or that your art is crap, I am here to tell you, you rock and are the best of the best.

Have a Happy Holidays & a great New Year!!! ✨🌙

#honestly you guys make me a better more motivated writer 🥺 #horror community #slasher community #slasher fandom #horror fandom #lance bishop #trash gobby says sh*t

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 3/?)

Chapter 3: An Unforgettable Moment

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

"I must warn you-" Connor began as the elevator neared the floor he lived on.

"Connor, it's your place, you don't have to justify shit," you interrupted softly.

The elevator moved up a few more levels, dinging quietly along the way. He uttered your name to catch your attention. When you looked up at him - yes, up at him - he explained, "I haven't exactly used the heater..."

Connor's apartment was on floor 46. The elevator doors remained closed upon arrival, waiting for clearance. As Connor's hand reached for the scanner, you saw his skin tone fade away into the icy white protective layer underneath. It took barely a second to scan him and Connor's identification popped up on the projecting HUD.

It had a very flattering photo of him, his name, ANDROID spelt out beneath it, model type: RK800, serial number, designed purpose: law enforcement, and his manufacturing date.

"Welcome home, Connor," a soft, feminine, robotic voice beckoned to him as the doors slid open.

You stepped past the threshold and took in the sight. The elevator opened to the living room. The right wall was curved and almost entirely windows that gave a beautiful view of the sweeping city below. As soon as you walked in and the elevator door's closed, you realized what Connor was talking about.

He was an android; his internal body temperature regulator could withstand much harsher temperatures than humans could. It made sense that he wouldn't keep his flat warm. Besides, if you were being honest with yourself, you doubted Connor spent much time here to begin with.

He had made adjustments to the thermometer as soon as he realized; but, the short drive to get here wasn't enough time to get the place warmed up efficiently.

Unsurprisingly, the apartment was lacking in furniture. There was a single, black cushioned arm chair that faced the window. It was long with a short back, clearly meant to be laid on, not sat on. There was a low coffee table next to it, beautiful dark wood with nothing on it.

Through the living room was the kitchen. It was small, but had dark granite counter tops and a nice island with two leather stools tucked in. The sink was empty, no dishes drying on the rack. He had stainless-steel appliances and a simple coffee maker tucked into the corner.

A hallway winded around the corner between the living room and the kitchen. The wall nearest the island had a small bar built into the foundation: the kind that shifted out when activated. While tucked into the wall, it had a glass panel to show off the goods. It was empty, unsurprisingly.

Had Connor even realized he was renting a bachelor pad?

"You're welcomed to take my room," Connor spoke first. "I don't really use it..."

"Are you sure?" you asked softly.

"I want you to be comfortable and I don't really need to sleep."

"But, it's your place, Connor..."

His eyes flickered away for a moment before returning to yours with a smile. "I believe the term is 'hospitality'."

"There's also a term, 'eat you out of body and home'," you teased back.

"I'm afraid I don't have food in the kitchen," he replied softly, looking almost troubled. "But, I'm not worried about the heater bill."

You smiled at him, looking away sheepishly, unsure of how to reply.

"Bedroom is on the right. Balcony on the left," he explained.

You shuffled into the hallway and took the directions he gave, down the hall, to the open door.

Connor's bedroom was exactly what you had expected it to be: the same dark wood flooring as the rest of the apartment, a king bed, headboard flush against the wall, with velvet, dark navy sheets. There was an adjacent window that took up most of the wall and gave a gorgeous view of the sweeping city beneath. The closet was open, letting you see the assortment of coats and shirts he owned. He had a dark wood, three drawered dresser; but, the room was otherwise fairly unfurnished.

Connor stood in the door way for a moment and watched you, unsure of what to say.

He felt conflicted by the images flashing through his mind: desires not yet traversed. If he had ever felt that way before, he couldn't remember.

Watching you, in his room, shrugging your bag and then your jacket off your shoulders, he felt something like invisible strings tugging at him. He wanted to enter the room, reach out to you, confess to the things plaguing his mind.

But-

What if you didn't feel the same? What if his confession made you uncomfortable? Would you be able to look at him the same way? Especially after he just invited you to his apartment... Didn't that seem... predatory?

He needed to give you space.

"I'll be in the living room if you need me," he said softly, turning away and disappearing before you could turn back to face him.

"O-... kay," you replied sadly.

You weren't sure what you were expecting. But, you felt disappointed none the less.

You let your eyes wander again and noticed that Connor had professionally framed newspaper headers and hung them on the wall. They were about the revolution. One of them had an aerial shot: a particularly charming photo of him standing with Markus and a few other androids, during the largest march - the final march. Connor was on the stage, but in the far back.

You admired the photo for a moment, uttering, "you were there, Connor... I wonder... what that was like?" to yourself.

Deciding to get to bed, you trotted into the connected bathroom to change clothes and pull back your hair, brush your teeth. You tried not to think too much about Connor as you undressed in his bathroom. The place was, unsurprisingly, spotless: marble perfectly clean, shower tiles without a single water spot.

Of course you had not expected anything from the android when you crossed the threshold. Yet, there was some dark part of you that had hoped he would... he would... What? March in and grab you? Confess that he wanted you and couldn't hold back anymore?

Your lewd thoughts left your stomach in knots, twisted in lust and shame. Was Connor capable of want? Even if he was, did he want you? He had stumbled into your life at nearly every opportunity ever since you came back to Detroit. But, even if he cared for you so strongly, that didn't mean he wanted it to be like this...

You were a human. Wouldn't he... be happier with an android?

"Fuck," you whimpered, dragging a heavy hand down your face.

Sleep - you needed sleep.

Connor's bed was as soft as it looked. The sheets were a fine, smooth, velvety texture, the kind that didn't leave wrinkles in the skin or adhere to sweat. It was hard to believe that Connor never laid here. Had he tried and decided he didn't like it? No, he likely was just trying to be hospitable.

You tucked into bed, facing the open doorway, as if hoping he would come barging in.

You felt stupid for that hope.

With the light off and the curtains pulled back, light from the cityscape gently entered through the window and cast the room in a dim glow.

You were tired, sure; but, you were also on edge, fingertips sliding along the sheets, cheek against the pillow distorting your frown. You took a deep inhale and-... Oh. The sheets smelt nice. Freshly washed linens and the faintest tint of masculine cologne. Did Connor wear cologne?

Any time you had gotten close, you were too preoccupied to check.

God damn it...

You rolled away from the entryway, closed your eyes, and tried to will yourself to sleep.

It was difficult when a thought kept ringing in your ears: Connor was in the other room, and you were in his bed. You were in Connor's apartment and you were in his bed. For fucks sake, he had invited you here to sleep, for safety, not to fuck you.

You rolled over again and glared at the wall. Maybe it would be easier if you pulled back the curtains and cast the room in darkness? But, you liked the faint light, the hue that the distance city lights cast upon the room, a somber glow.

It felt like... like Connor's room.

Like-

Like you needed some water.

You shimmied out of the sheets and walked down the hall, to the kitchen, ignoring how cold the wood floors felt beneath your feet. It didn't take long to find some receptacles. There were some thick glass mugs in the cabinet above the sink. You filled one about a quarter way and chugged the whole thing in one quick gulp.

You set the cup near the sink and dared to let your eyes wander to the living room. You could see Connor propped up on the sofa, looking out the window, completely still. You crossed the distance and walked around to face him, taking careful steps.

He had taken off his shoes and his tie, the first button of his shirt undone to expose the tip of his collar bone. His back was flush against the sofa's back, hands in his lap, eyes closed, head upright.

Was he trying to sleep? You didn't want to bother him, but-... No. No, that was a lie. You did want to bother him.

"I should leave," you thought to yourself, trying to tear yourself away.

But, then-

You flinched a little when he blinked a couple times and shifted his gaze towards you, as if he had sensed you were there. His LED was shining bright yellow through the darkness of the room. It pulsed to red when he looked up at you.

"I-I'm sorry for bothering you," you uttered. "Were you trying to sleep?"

Androids power regeneration rarely ever required powering off. He likely wasn't even powered down, just trying to reach a state like it.

"I guess you could call it 'zoning out'," he replied softly.

You didn't fail to see the way his eyes moved down your body before shifting back up to your eyes. You didn't sleep in a bra and chose a flimsy shirt for your sleeping top. As a result, your nipples were poking through the fabric obscenely. You could almost slap yourself for not considering that. And now, you were standing above him like some sort of creep, barely clothed, while he was trying to relax.

Connor maintained a mostly stoic expression; but, you could see something troubling him. His eyes were distant, clouded over with anxiety, and his LED was maintaining a solid red.

The android moved his legs off the sofa and set his feet on the floor, shifting his position so he was facing you. You hadn't realized how close you were until your knees brushed against each other. He was looking up at you with expecting eyes. You swallowed the rock in your throat.

The android's lips parted. You could almost hear the question he was going to ask. If you needed anything. If someone was wrong. What could he do to make it better.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"I want you," you whispered, the confession like throwing a knife through glass. You could practically hear the world shattering around you. Your hands tightened into fists at your sides. "It's killing me, Connor. I feel like - like I shouldn't. How could I ask you to-... How could I assume tha-?"

You silenced yourself, feeling hopeless, feeling stupid.

Connor's brow lifted and his eyes softened. "I was trying to go into stasis so I could... stop thinking about it," he confessed, shifting his gaze away from you. Before you could assume the worst, he continued. "About - the things I want to do to you..." he added on lowly, trailing off.

Your eyes widened and a whimper escaped you. Connor's eyes flickered back up to yours.

He wanted to go into stasis so he could... stop thinking about what he wanted to do to you?

"What - what things?" you pleaded.

You caught the way his eyes flickered to your mouth and then back up to your eyes. Connor looked torn, like he had been caught doing something wrong and like he was in the middle of hunting prey: the cross between determined and afraid. He reached up and gently grasped your forearms, and gave them a little tug. You leaned a little into the tug, trying not to fall into him.

"It felt wrong," he admitted. "I was afraid that you didn't - not like that... not for an android."

Connor kept pulling, slowly. Eventually, you had no choice but to part your legs and slide your knees on either side of his thighs. You slowly maneuvered onto his lap and placed your hands on his shoulders.

"Connor, I-I like that you're an android." You squeezed his shoulders. "Does that make me sick?" Your voice was hoarse. You felt like you were choking. You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to suppress tears, tried not to cry.

He was designed to serve humans. They all were. You felt like you were taking advantage of that, of the beauty he was bestowed with, of the strength he was designed with specifically to serve humans. "I'm a monster. I'm taking adva-"

"I want this," he whispered harshly, breath hot like steam against your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open and met his. His brown orbs were wild with passion, hunger. That expression looked almost out of place on his soft features. It was sickeningly beautiful. "There's nothing in my programming for this - nothing making me want you. I just-... I just do."

He grabbed your hand and lifted it, placing your palm against his LED, against the side of his head. "I'm scared because I-... I want you so bad and I'm afraid I might hurt you."

Your eyes fluttered for a moment. Guilt felt like a vice wrapped around you, drowning you. And yet, here Connor felt the same, drowning in his own guilt.

"You won't. I know you won't," you whispered. "-and not because I think your programming will stop you. But because you're Connor."

The android closed his eyes and breathed against your lips. He was so close. He could almost taste you. But, he hesitated, afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself after he got that first taste. You weaved your fingers through his hair, slowly shattering his willpower.

You leaned in, captured the side of his mouth, and he felt his resolve shatter. He turned his head and captured your mouth properly, swallowing the whimper that escaped you. Your hand joined the other, gently tugging on his hair. His hands found purchase on your waist, tugging, squeezing, pulling to crush your torso against his chassis.

The kiss wasn't tentative. It was hungry, ravenous, like you were trying to anchor to each other's mouths to avoid drowning. The fine hairs on his upper lip, chin, and jaw weren't there for show. They were real, pricky hairs that tickled you. It felt as if he had just shaved this morning.

Connor's hands never stopped. He roamed your waist, your hips, your back, up and down your legs. He gently squeezed your flesh, the sensors on his fingertips catching whatever information they could.

When his fingertips trailed your ribs, he gasped. Your lips separated with a noisy pop and your eyes fluttered open. His LED looked like a burning red ring against his temple. "C-Connor?"

"I can feel your bones," he uttered, mesmerized, eyes fluttering open to catch yours. His hands slid down to catch beneath the hem of your shirt and returned, skin to skin, fingers sliding up and down your ribs with fascination, like he had never felt anything like it before.

You captured his mouth again, whimpering at the touch. Connor almost stopped, struggling to distinguish the good sounds from the bad. The way you were kissing him, pulling him closer, helped.

His tongue caught your bottom lip. The texture surprised you. His tastebuds were more textured than a human tongue. But, it didn't deter you from parting your lips and welcoming him inside. Connor moaned shamelessly into your mouth when his tongue brushed against yours. Your DNA fluttered in his mind, his sensors practically exploding.

This was your taste.

Your hands lowered from his hair to his shoulders and tugged at his detective jacket. Connor was too preoccupied to assist you. His tongue was exploring every crevice it could reach. He could feel your breath heavy through your nostrils, puffing out against his cheeks. As time went on, he could sense you were struggling.

Humans need to breathe, he remembered.

When Connor parted from you, a wet sound echoed between you. Connor watched like he was hypnotized as you panted, trying to catch your breath after his onslaught. Your lips were puffy, wet with your mixed saliva, and your cheeks tinted pink. The sight gave him some strange satisfaction.

He waited patiently until your eyes fluttered open again. He had to make sure that he wasn't met with disdain. That you weren't uncomfortable.

The want that he was met with shot through his core. You wanted more.

"Hold onto me," he warned, rising to his feet. You let out a squeak when you were suddenly lifted into the air. His hands slipped down to cup the underside of your thighs, and your legs lifted to wrap around his waist. Your hands clung to his shoulders like you might fall; yet, you realized, Connor wasn't struggling to hold you at all.

In barely a second, he was entering his bedroom and laying you down at the edge of the bed, standing between your parted legs.

You leaned up and pushed at his jacket. Connor moved his arms back and shrugged it off his shoulders. The fabric pooled behind him on the floor. His shirt was pristine, impeccably ironed and flattering on his lean form; but, it needed to come off. Your hands were hastily undoing his belt to loosen his pants grip around his hips.

Connor watched you intensely, eyes fogged over with lust and lips parted. He decided that he liked the sight of you struggling to undress him, a wild look in your eyes.

You tugged on his button-up shirt to free it from his pants and began fumbling with the buttons. In your daze, you struggled. Connor's hands gently pushed yours out of the way and undid each button with robotic precision. He shrugged the blouse off one shoulder and then shifted his arms back to remove it the rest of the way. His shirt joined his jacket on the floor.

You were panting like a dog, but didn't have the strength to care as the android stood over you with a predatory look on his face.

Connor was lean with a slight muscular build, the faint outline of a sixpack adorning his abdomen. Your eyes, and hands, were more focused on something else. Connor's neck and chest were sprinkled with freckles, painting in his skin in constellations. Your fingertips traced a pattern across his pectorals, daring to let a thumb graze one of his nipples, before trailing down to admire the varying freckles dusted along his tummy.

A happy trail started beneath his belly button, soft, fine, dark brown hairs, and disappeared into his pants.

He was still, content with letting you admire him for the moment. He liked the way you were looking at him, like you had never seen something so beautiful before, like you wanted to devour him.

You shimmied closer to the edge of the bed, where he was standing, and pressed a kiss against his chest, the very center, where you knew his thirium pump was resting beneath the surface.

He let out a quiet gasp when you touched him there.

"Was that bad?" you whispered, leaning back to look up at him. You realized his LED had softened into a yellow hue.

It wasn't bad. But, why did it startle him? He knew you wouldn't hurt him. Whether or not you could was arguable. You studied androids anatomy, knew them inside and out, every artificial organ and computer piece. He wasn't afraid. There was something oddly arousing about you reaching places that were sensitive, that were delicate.

"Not bad. I-... I don't know," he replied hoarsely.

Your head tilted slightly. "Connor, are - are we moving too fast?" you asked him, sincere, low.

His eyes darkened for a second. But, then, Connor blinked it away, like he caught himself.

"N-no. I - I don't want to stop. Unless you do?"

"No. Please don't stop," you breathed.

He looked relieved, like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Connor," you whispered his name like a prayer as the android gracefully fell forward, hands on the bed on either side of you.

Your lips met, and your hands slid over his cheeks, pulling him in, falling into perfect harmony. Connor gently pushed you forward until you were flat on your back beneath him. He slid onto his forearms, trying to prevent himself from crushing you into the bed.

But, then, one of your legs hooked around the back of his thigh and pulled him down. You moaned into his mouth when his clothed cock came into contact with your clothed core. Fuck, he was hard. It actually kind of hurt when it bumped into you, but you couldn't be bothered to mind.

Connor shuddered and leaned up, tearing his mouth away from yours.

There was a question of the tip of his tongue and something akin to pleading in his eyes. Can I undress you? Can I see you? Please?

You felt like you could read his thoughts in that moment. You placed one hand on his chest and pushed gently, silently asking him to get up. He complied and you laid there for a moment to admire the view. His belt was still looped through his pants, but undone and dangling. He was pitching an impressive tent.

The best part? He was blushing, flushed red all over. Were androids supposed to be capable of that?

"Are - are you overheating?" you asked, sincerely concerned.

"J-just a little," he admitted.

You smiled and snagged your thumbs under the bands of your lounge pants and underwear. They both slid down in one swoop and quickly joined the growing pile on the floor. Your shirt followed and you leaned back to let him admire you.

Connor noticed the expression you were making before he noticed everything else. Like you were afraid.

"I - I won't look if you don't want me to?" he offered.

You shook your head. "No. It's not that... I just - I'm not as beautiful as you."

Connor panted out a brief chuckle. "Isn't that for me to decide?"

Your gaze changed, then. The fear washed away and you smiled softly. Only then did he let his eyes wander. He lingered on your neck and the delicate collar bones that jutted out from your upper chest for just a little longer than expected. Your nipples were perky in the cold air, breasts heaving slightly with your heavy breaths. His eyes moved down your taut stomach to the bundle of nerves between your legs, hidden behind soft curls.

"I want to kiss you there," he admitted shamelessly.

You whimpered at that. "Fuck - Connor..." He was still staring into your eyes, silently pleading, as if you would ever say no. "Yes - yes - ohhh."

At that first yes, Connor lifted one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder, giving himself proper access, before swooping down fearlessly. As promised, he kissed you first, squaring in on the pearl that poked out above your entrance.

He lapped at it and you trembled at the sensation. You hadn't considered this - hadn't considered that he had a tongue like the devil. The texture was marvelous and Connor knew exactly what was the right amount of pressure. He couldn't have possibly been real. You must have died sometime early today and was lost in a blissful purgatory conjured by your own imagination.

It only got worse when his other hand joined in and you felt a curious digit slip into your sopping wet entrance with no resistance. Connor paused for a moment, not expected you to be so burning hot on the inside, essence like molten lava on his digit.

"Ohh fuck!" you cried out, head falling back into the sheets. His tongue lapped at your pearl in flawless intervals while his finger curled into you, seeking out the spot that would blind you in ecstasy. Your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, clawing into them. Connor had to use his other hand to grab hold of your waist and force you to be still.

He seemed hyper focused on making you come. But, he was shamelessly enjoying himself: the salty taste of your sex, the way your flesh quivered and seeped heat, and all the glorious, obscene noises he coaxed from your mouth.

"C-C-Con - ahh - please - stop - want you - want you," you pleaded with him, thrashing around on the bed.

When he stopped, you saw him pop his finger in his mouth to clean off your essence. You stared up at him with lust-filled eyes, panting like a wild animal.

"Y-you didn't have to do that," you whimpered as he stood up and slid his pants, belt still through the loops, down his hips. He kneeled down for a moment to remove his socks.

When he caught you staring at the way back up, he paused. Your eyes flickered away from the impressive bulge he was sporting in his boxers and up to his face.

That - that wasn't embarrassment. That was pride. He liked the way you were looking at him.

His boxers went next, snagging on his erection before being carefully peeled down his thighs and joining the rest of the clothes on the floor.

Oh fuck-

Your eyes followed the trail of pubes to the base of his cock. You expected something akin to a very realistic dildo. But, no, Connor looked all the more real down there, too. His shaft was proportionate to his body, with some liberties. It wasn't perfectly smooth, either. There were veins along the top and bottom, a bulbous tip, a little thicker at the base. He even had a pair on him.

"I wanted to," he replied, thankfully, interrupting your staring.

You wanted to also; but, Connor was climbing on top of you before you had a chance to voice that. You slid back to center yourself on the bed and Connor followed, hovering.

Through the faint glow of the room, the brightest light was Connor's LED. It had shifted back to a calming blue. You smiled at the sight. When Connor leaned down and you welcomed him into your arms, you leaned in to peck a kiss at the only indicator that he was an android.

"Do you feel better?" you whispered. "It's blue..."

"I - I do," he admitted like he was caught misbehaving.

You maneuvered your lips over to his and pressed a soft kiss agains this mouth. "Are you sure I prepared you enough?" he whispered against your mouth. His mouth descended into your neck where he peppered wet kisses along your throat. You gasped at the sensation, letting your head fall back against the sheets.

"You're bigger than I expected," you said lowly. "But, I-"

You felt his arm shift and his hand lower between you two. It was moving in a telltale motion. You leaned back to try to steal a peak and realized he was spreading an obscene amount of precum down his shaft, until it was glistening wet from tip to base.

You moaned shamelessly at the sight.

"I-I'm ready, Connor," you breathed, leaning back up to kiss messily against his mouth. He shifted his hips forward, bringing your bodies together, and you felt the tip press against your entrance.

Connor huffed out a breath.

"I - y-you're so warm..."

Curious, intrigued, Connor leaned up. You detangled your arms from his shoulders to let him. He looked down at the sight of his tip barely breeching your entrance. Your lips were fluttered around him, like parted petals, dark pink and glistening. Like this, your pearl was forced out of hiding and on full display.

He nudged forward until his tip slipped inside.

Connor shuddered and almost collapsed on top of you.

"Keep going," you pleaded, looking up at him with admiration. His LED had shuttered to yellow as he took in the sight of your union. He didn't know why he liked it so much, until the thought sank in. This wasn't just biology. It was your cunt taking in his cock. It was his body laying claim to yours.

-and you wanted him. Above you. Inside you. Taking you. Fucking you.

Connor shifted his hips until he was nuzzled deep, sheathed fully inside the tantalizing heat between your thighs. You clenched your jaw at the feeling of such fullness.

But, you were easily distracted by the sight above you. Connor fell forward on his hands, eyes fluttered shut and LED blaring scarlet red. He pinched his brow as if he was in pain. You soaked in the sight as if trying to draw a picture in your memory of Connor in the dim light, his LED beautiful and glowing on his temple, above you, inside you, trying to form some semblance of self-control.

The feedback on his processor was almost overwhelming. Tight velvety flesh clinging to his cock like a burning hot vice. Pleasure was burning through his mind, disrupting all other processes. It was difficult to concentrate on anything else but the way your body clung to him.

His cock throbbed inside you, and you let out a whimper. At least, his sound receptors were still operating at regular levels.

That seemed to snap him out of it.

You looked blissed out beneath him, but not content, not satisfied. Your hungry eyes took him in eagerly. Your hands were running up and down his biceps as if trying to soothe him. He hadn't noticed until now.

"You feel-" His hips involuntarily moved a little, just a tiny thrust. Oh. He hadn't considered the friction. Your walls were velvety and smooth, but had a coarseness to them. He could feel each individual muscle dragging along the thick veins on his cock.

"-so good." When Connor finished his sentence, it came out a little distorted. He froze up, afraid you would dislike the sound of his voice box experiencing intermittent errors.

But-

You moaned and lifted your hips, a gesture almost akin to begging. More. More. Please.

"You're killing me," you whimpered. "So - hmf - big," you huffed out, pouting up at him.

He shuddered again.

The android slid onto his forearms, on either side of your head, and sought out your lips. You curled one leg around his waist while the other stayed low, wrapped around his calf.

He distracted himself with your mouth, trying to calm his processor before something malfunctioned. He angled back his hips and pushed forward, testing the waters. On the next try, he slid out halfway before diving back in. Slowly, but ensuring each and every centimeter that could possibly go inside you did.

"Ohhh," you moaned into his mouth.

Connor nudged his forehead against yours affectionately. He was happy. So fucking happy. He felt so fucking good and could only pray to whatever deity was listening that you felt as good as he did. Your moans kept him going, his only lifeline.

You maneuvered your arms beneath his, one hand reaching up to tangle in his hair while the other smoothed down his back. You had closed your eyes at some point and let them open while Connor found a pleasing rhythm. His LED was blue, lighting up his skin in a beautiful, soft glow.

You had adjusted by now, stretched to accommodate his girth. Connor's cock continued to ooze lubrication. Soon, the combined fluids created a wet sound that echoed between you every time he slid back in.

Your hand, fingers weaved through his hair, lowered to the back of his neck. Your thumb grazed the access panel release button behind his ear. It wasn't risen or textured; but, you knew it was there, and hoped it would be like his thirium pump.

It did something, for the android suddenly thrust in harder than before, hips stuttering.

"Connor-" you cried out. His processor was stuttering to keep up with all this information. It took him 0.874 seconds longer than necessary to realize that was a good sound.

He did it again, and again, pulling out carefully and shoving his hips back into you. There was some sense to it. He was angling his hips in a way that would provide the maximum stimulation to your core. But, even when that was hard for him to concentrate on, when you started to claw your nails down his back.

-and your voice.

You were whimpering into his ear. You sounded like you were hurt. But, he liked it.

Was that wrong? It sounded like he was hurting you, but he fucking liked it.

Soon, he was slamming into you so hard that you could barely catch your breath, huffing against the side of his neck like you just surfaced from the ocean. You'd pant on the release and cry out when he slammed back inside. Your walls were fluttering around him, coaxing him back inside every time he pulled back.

He never anticipated it would be like this.

You lifted your other leg to try to perch it on his waist. Connor lowered his hand to grab it. Somewhere in his mind, whatever was left of reason told him he could make this better. He could make you scream louder.

He cupped the underside of your knee and lifted your leg until it brushed his ribs.

When he slammed back in, you did scream.

Would the neighbors hear?

Fuck. Who cares.

"Connor - yes!" you cried, senselessly dragging your nails down his back.

Connor was too focused on the sensation between his legs, on your voice in his ears, your body language telling him your pleasure; he failed to realize his voice box was malfunctioning again. He was puffing out staticky sounds through parted lips, like he was getting punched.

The hand that had dared to poke at his access panel returned to his hair, lovingly nudging him closer.

"D-do-on't hold ba-...ck," you panted.

"Fu-ck me," you pleaded. He was; but, he realized, your words were to spur him on. "Do-n't st-stop," you huffed out. "Con-hnn - oh, Connor!"

Your bodies made obscene wet noises as they smacked together. You were clinging to him, walls fluttering, legs trembling, and he finally realized you were coming.

-and he had gotten you there.

"Oh - hnnn," Connor stuttered, voice controls out of skew and not sounding quite like himself. Before he could stop it, his pleasure had apexed, and he was coming.

Connor was almost lost as pleasure blinded him, the sensation bubbling up inside his cock before shooting up his spine.

His hips shuddered as he tried to keep up the pace, to finish you properly through your orgasm. He pressed his face into your hair and tried to endure his processor. Everything was going off at once: overheating warnings, pleasure sensors shooting through his core, error messages on muscle movements, lag on audio and visual receptors.

Somehow, he managed to keep going until you whimpered quietly, a verbal cue he took as overstimulation. His own orgasm was beginning to die off. He shuddered one last time and slumped forward.

Connor could feel you panting beneath him, your chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. Your legs were still trembling against his hips, but your hands had gone limp, barely holding onto him anymore. He was unmoving, giving his central processing unit a moment to recover.

The android's eyes shuddered open. He could feel his audio and visual receptors reconfiguring, 0.479 seconds, until readings were normal. The overheating logs were being filed, reason being categorized as 'sexual'. 0.617 seconds for his muscle scan to complete and all readings had returned to normal.

You shifted beneath him, and Connor decided to ignore that for now and focus on you. He leaned up to look at you properly.

Wow. You looked- "Beautiful," he whispered, smearing his lips against your cheek in what was supposed to be a kiss.

"Did you...?" you uttered, turning into his kiss with a smile.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Was I good?" you asked quietly.

Connor captured your mouth with a groan. It was supposed to be quick; but, you kissed back, and it went on and on for at least a minute before you parted with a wet smack.

The android leaned up and slid out of you slowly with a quiet groan. You untangled your legs from his waist and whimpered at the sensation of him departing from your core. Oh. Damn. You were going to be sore tomorrow.

But, the dull ache left behind after such an intense orgasm was like having sore muscles after a glorious battle. It felt nice. Connor's hair was disheveled, posture imperfect. It was worth it. So, so worth it.

Connor rolled away and lifted into a seated position at the foot of the bed. You followed, placing your hand on his lower back. He was about to stand up, but stopped at the touch. You maneuvered onto your knees and scooted in closer.

His hairline was imperfect. Fine hairs ran about an inch down on either side from his trimmed haircut. You trailed your fingertips across the hair there. It felt prickly, like real human hair that had just been shaved a few days ago. Your fingertips slid higher into the slightly longer hairs of his short cut. They were tantalizingly soft.

"Your creators were evil," you commented, leaning in to kiss the back of Connor's neck. You didn't expect him to tremble in response to that, and it almost surprised you.

"How so?" he asked, voice low, sounding almost unlike himself.

You uttered into his skin, "you have freckles on the back of your neck, too..."

You sounded simultaneously adored and annoyed with this discovery. Connor was trying not to hyperventilate by the sensation of your mouth on the back of his neck, warm breath and soft lips, confessing to how attracted you were to him. It was stirring up something dangerous inside him: a hunger that would never be satiated.

It thrilled and frightened him.

With one final kiss, you parted and slid back into the bed.

Connor rose to his feet and started scooping up the clothes off the floor. He tossed his into a laundry hamper before gingerly folding yours and placing them on top of his dresser.

His hands touched the pull handles on the drawer when he stopped and decided against getting dressed.

When Connor returned to the foot of the bed, you were just barely nuzzling beneath the sheets. He didn't miss the hopeful look you shot him when you spotted him returning to the bed.

The android climbed beneath the sheets and slotted into the spot behind you. You moaned approvingly when his warm body met yours, one arm sliding beneath the pillows while the other rested over your waist.

"You don't have to?" you offered quietly, like you didn't want to ask.

"I want to," Connor replied.

Tired. Satisfied. At ease. Protected. You didn't struggle to fall asleep this time.

There was something he wanted to ask you; but, it had been a very long and exhausting day for you. It could wait.

Of course, Connor didn't need to sleep, and powering off was incredibly dangerous. He couldn't be aware of his sensors, of his surroundings, or anything else in that state.

But, as Connor caressed your tummy with his hand, he realized there was something he could do.

The protective layer of skin faded away on his palm, exposing the sensors beneath. He hummed as he scanned you directly and closed his eyes to focus on it.

Connor could count your heartbeats precisely, could feel the blood rushing through you and at what pressure, could feel your lungs inflate and deflate with each passing breath. He nuzzled into the back of your neck and contemplated lapping his tongue against your skin to see what else his sensors could pick up.

Okay, but, maybe he shouldn't do that-

This was enough.

This... put him at ease, and he relaxed into an energy saving mode.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #deviant connor x reader #connor smut #rk800 smut

[alovevigilante]

Ok. This is me above-above (with makeup filter) and this is me today, with Lou the elephant. One f’n day apart….and by the by, this is the only photo that I will let you see from today, because unflattering and because no.

I am extremely fickle and picky about taking photos. I pretty much let allow it to get me really down. For some reason other than the filter, I feel like I look like hell in photos that people take of me. I mean, I look like a completely different person. So much so, that I would never have to go into hiding for any reason other than my mortification about my image in photos that I don’t have control over, because I look like a completely different person in every one I appear in. And…. I hate it.

So what does one do, when they don’t have control of a situation like getting their pics taken, and at the same time don’t want to be erased from their own history? Because I gotta say, the sighting of a “Kari Keillor” in a photo that I haven’t taken over the past 20 years is EXTREMELY rare… probably worth its weight in gold… and yes, it’s a digital photo, so there you have it.

When you have a low self esteem, and you want to change it, how do you do it? I’ve tried the appreciation of the new and enlarged boobies and culi. But it’s worn thin. And when I’m on vacation I want to walk around the pool with my head held high, not like a turtle peeking it’s head ever so slightly out of its shell… I’m hunched over, and my face and body, reveal how I feel…. Not so great.

Ok. Well, yes. I am, a woman. I am, a fully functioning, relatively healthy if you don’t count my feelings of paranoia and inferiority to other beautiful people, so what the hell?! Can I eat something that’s not so great for me and be ok with it for once in my life? Unfortunately the answer is, no.

Bathing suit season is tough. I noticed that my latest suit was strangulated to death by my ass, and it’s wasn’t meant to be a thong. Oh how I long for the days of winter, where my sweatshirt and sweatpants are the costume of choice, and the extra can be slightly hidden and shielded from the immediate notice of others.

I’m looking… for an outside cure. Ain’t gonna happen. So, I’ll try to look at it this way; if Godzilla was to come and visit my neighborhood, thrashing and destroying everything in sight, I probably wouldn’t give 2 rips about my cellulite, or how big my ass, arms, thighs and stomach were. So, should I try to focus on world destruction the next time I’m at the pool? Probably not the most fun choice. Maybe I could just use a different, more flattering camera angle like I did on the photo below. Or, just focus on having fun, and get a really cool, and hot, cover up until I get to where I’m ok…. in my head. Self love…. I’m working on it. I mean I was somewhere really great, and I was ruining it for myself by not being there in my head. The love is there, it can even be smack dab in your face. But if you don’t recognize it, and allow yourself to enjoy it without judging yourself and everything else then how can you enjoy… well…. anything?

So, you have a choice: You can either embrace the elephant in the room…. Or… just always stand next to a 9ft elephant. 💕

With makeup filter for my fach…. And No, I’m not perfect…and I am human, and whether you agree with me or not, you cannot argue with how I feel about myself.

oh! And for those of you who are concerned, these 3 elephants I loved today: Lou, Patty, and Carol, are housed on 1,100 acres of beautiful rolling hills of farmland in Indiana, and are treated amazingly. Today we helped feed them, and wash them. We try to take my son every year. (We missed 2 years due to covid.)

I believe it’s important for kids to have encounters with animals and to develop a connection to them. Because like anything else, how can you expect kids that turn into adults to care enough to protect animals without more of a bond via sharing personal experiences? And unless human beings classify differently now, we’re all animals after all… (with the exception of plants and fungi… and perhaps some single celled organisms…not sure. I can check. All still relevant…) yes. According to https://www.bioexplorer.net/animals/:

“From the biological classification perspective, animals belong to the kingdom called Animalia. They are eukaryotes and multi-cellular living organisms. Animals are locomotive (i.e., ability to move around), heterotrophic (i.e., consume organic material as a source of food), and reproduce sexually (with the exceptions of asexual organisms). The study of animals is called Zoology.”

#choose love #love matters #love manifestation #self reflection #self love #self esteem #self improvement #selfworth #self care #self development #honesty #yes filter #no filter elephant #selfie #bathing suit #summer #oh lordy #me #elephant #elephants #love #i love elephants #wildlife conservation #wildlife education #a love vigilante #love yourself #education

[random-imagines-blog]

Battle for the Sun {Diana Prince x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @justarookiewriter​ Wordcount: 2768 Summary: Trips to the museum are always fantastic, but a certain curator makes it all the better. But what happens when you keep getting interrupted?

The display that the museum was putting on was absolutely spectacular. You turned up every single day that this exhibition was on, using your membership card to get through the long lines. Italian sculptures, men and women, all sorts of bodies from ones that would be shamed today to the ideal. You walked the long stone halls alone, your hands behind your back, taking in the art as it was rather than trying to take pictures of it. A photo on a phone was nothing compared to the majesty that you were seeing in front of you. You stopped in front of your favorite, a sculpture of a woman. She was kneeling on the ground, her face turned upwards, her dress revealing one breast. There was something delicate about it. The way that the artist made stone look like fabric. It was incredible. But you weren’t just here for the art - there was another reason that you came around, and that was for one of the curators. An astonishing woman named Diana Prince.

You were hoping to see her, but instead, the only person you saw was a security guard who tended to follow you around. Not because he thought that you were up to devious behavior, but because he enjoyed the sight of you. He told you so enough times, and each word out of his mouth made you gag. But the art and Diana were worth putting up with him, just for a little while.

“Oh, you’re here again!” The very wanted voice of the woman that you were hoping to see  came through the room, which cuts the creepy security guard right out of the picture. As it well should have.

“You found me already,” You said, turning the tall woman with a smile. “Usually you only catch me when I’m about to leave. I’ve only been here about an hour.”

“I can leave you to it,” She said, her accent being one that you couldn’t quite place.  There were a dozen or so places that you suspected she could have come from, but never felt that you could ask such a rude question. She was here now, in France, and that’s what really mattered.

“Oh,  no, only if you have other things to do. I never mind your company, Diana,” You said with a smile. The way that she looked today was breathtaking. How she managed to make a simple pair of jeans and a blouse look glamorous, you didn’t understand. You didn’t even have hope that you could emulate such a look. You probably looked horrible next to her, in your comfy University sweater to fight off the chill of the upcoming autumn months. “Not for a little while, no,” She said, smiling back. She stood next to you and looked up at the sculpture that you had been stopped in front of. “Is this one your favorite?” She asked you. You nodded in response, then started to speak, realizing the little gesture was not nearly enough.

“I wish that I knew what she was looking at,” You admitted, looking up into the face of the beautiful piece of artwork. “And how the marble looks like fabric, how you can see through it, it’s...”

“Breathtaking?” Diana responded. You nodded. That was the word that you had been struggling to find. It sounded more sincere coming from her lips. “Yes, I feel the same way. I’m often drawn to it as well.”

You both fell into a silence at that moment, looking at the sculpture. You wished that you could touch it, making sure that it really was stone. You didn’t even realize that you were leaning into the partition rope guarding it from people doing exactly that.

“Hey - stop-” The creepy security guard said, squeezing his way between you and Diana. “You know the rules, you can’t get close to the artwork.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” You started to argue back, but Diana interfered.

“You’re excused,” She said, lightly pushing the guard back. Still, it seemed to take him by surprise that he was being handled like that, and he stumbled backwards. He glared at her, and opened his mouth to retort, but she continued on. “And I will be speaking to your supervisor about this.”

“I was just trying to-”

“I’ve already put in a complaint about you,” You said, wanting to back up Diana, just as she was doing for you. “And I have the feeling that I am not the only person who did. I wasn’t going to touch it, especially not with the curator here. Please, do not touch me again.”

It was hard to keep in your temper, but he had been rather rude with you in the past. He once slid behind you in a crowd, his hand touching your bottom a little too roughly for it to have been an accident. You had put in the report, but as you had expected, not too much had happened. “As I said, you are excused,” Diana said, her eyes sharp as she stared the man down. He faltered, and walked away from his post, mumbling under his breath.

“Thank you. I’ve been a bit nervous to come back because of him,” You frowned at his retreating back.

“I’ll make sure that he never bothers you again,” Diana said, soothingly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” You said, bringing the smile back onto your face. “And so ready to finally enjoy the museum without him breathing down my beck. What is your favorite sculpture here?”

You were getting a tour from the curator herself, walking in her footsteps, taking in all of the information that she was giving you which wasn’t in the placards. You found yourself wishing you had brought a notepad so you could write all of this information down. She gave a much better tour than any of the tourguides or online tours that the Louvre provided.

“And that is all,” Diana said, after explaining the last statue. You had done a large lap, ending in front of your favorite once more. You clapped and felt very fortunate to have gotten such a personal tour.

And, well, very flattered as well that she had taken time out of her busy day to lead you around an exhibit you knew like the back of your hand. This woman was as beautiful as the sculptures themselves, so fine in form, so elegant in her movements. But there were a lot of differences between you and her that made you a little wary of getting rejected, if you did gather up the courage to ask her out.

You two turned to look at each other, both of you smiling. Her painted-red lips opened to say something. They formed your name when there came a loud announcement through the speakers around the museum. ‘Miss Prince, please return to your office, Miss Prince, please return to your office.”

“I’ve kept you for too long,” You said, realizing how much time exactly had flown by. At least two hours! You were just your average guest in the museum but you had taken up far too much of the curator’s time. Diana laughed, shook her head and lightly touched your shoulder. Her hand was well-manicured, warm. Exactly as you thought it would be. Her skin matched her laugh - sunshine.

“No, you haven’t,” She insisted. “I like your perspective on this art. On history. It is refreshing. We should talk more about this.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” You offered with a smile. She nodded enthusiastically, before waving her fingers at you and headed towards her office to get back to work.

-

And you did return, catching sight of Diana immediately. She was standing in front of the statue that was your favorite, which also now became your favorite meeting place. It was going to be a huge shame when the exhibit moves onto the next location. Diana had told you that it was Germany. The memories you had with these statues were almost enough for you to move along with it.

She was wearing an all white outfit, clean and completely pristine. She fit in wonderfully with all of the statues. “Good afternoon,” You said, walking up to her and stood next to her tall frame. The look that she gave you, the large smile, almost gave you a thought that maybe, just maybe, she admires you as much as you admire her. It gave you a sense of confidence, made your shoulders straighter, your chin a little higher.

“Hello!” She said, surprising you with a hug that you eagerly returned. “I had hoped you knew this was where I wanted to meet you!”

“Right in front of my favorite, I’m surprised that you remembered.”

“There is no way that I could have forgotten,” She said, ponytail swaying behind her back. “The many times that I saw you looking at it - I wish I could gift it to you.”

“Oh,” You said, eyes wide at the very thought. “No, something like this should be appreciated by everyone. That is the artist’s intention. And I would never want to mess with that.” You smiled, though, very flattered that she thought of something like that. “But I don’t wish to take up too much of your time today, you must have work to do.”

“I do,” She admitted, looking over shoulder. It was as if she was looking to make sure that there was no one around. Though of course there was. The Louvre was one of the most famous attractions in Europe, not just in France. There were plenty of people about. It was hard for you to notice most of them however, next to this very striking woman. “So I was going to ask you-”

“Excuse me,” A gruff man said, pushing his way past you. Despite the rule about no food or drinks in any of the halls, he must have snuck something in, since you felt a liquid go across your chest. The smell that rose from it told you that it was coffee. You gasped, as it was still hot, and immediately tried to stretch the fabric away from your chest.

“Security,” Diana said, holding her arm out to stop the man from going further. Two security guards, neither of them being the creepy man, came up and escorted the man to the security office, probably to fine him for bringing in drinks. But you were more focused on your shirt. At least it was warm, not scalding, you might be a little tender where it splashed but it didn’t look like any real burns.

“I guess this is a good excuse as any to buy something from the gift shop,” You said, trying to make it into a joke.

“Are you sure?” Diana said, examining your shirt with a frown. “I don’t know if those stains are going to come out - come with me.”

Rather than take you to the gift shop, she lead you past the restricted areas, to what was apparently her office. There were many books in here, many artifacts. It smelled of her perfume, delicate but enough to wrap around your senses.

She also had a closet, which she opened up and went through. You looked in awe at the amount of gowns that she had in there; there must be a thousand euros worth, at least! She went through them before picking out a blouse of her own, and holding it in front of you. “This may fit you,” She said, sizing it by eye then handed it to you.

“Oh, um, thank you,” You said, looking around, feeling slightly embarrassed. She pointed towards a door that blended in with a row of bookcases.

“You can use my bathroom,” She said, kindly. You thanked her once more, then ducked into it, closing the door gently behind you. It was a standard half-bath - just a toilet and a sink and a mirror. But it seemed to be well stocked with lavish perfumes. Like she highly separated her home life from her work life. You snorted to yourself as you took off your wet shirt, trying to imagine her in sweat pants. She would look like someone out of a gym commercial if she were to try to wear those.

But what you were thinking was she kept her dresses here, her fancy things here. Maybe she only went to extravagant events for work, but did something else in her down time? Did curators even have down time?

You wanted to know everything about her, especially what she was like when she wasn’t around the museum. You buttoned up the blouse that she was loaning you after drying yourself off with some toilet tissue, then set about trying to get the worst of the stain out in the sink. You managed to get most of the brown liquid off but it would still need a run or two through the wash, with real cleaning liquid and not hand soap.

You folded up your shirt and held it in your hands as you left the bathroom, returning to the office. Diana stood there, waiting for you while leaning back against her desk. The way that the sun filtered in through the windows, reflected off the white walls onto her face - magnificent. She straightened up when she saw you come out. “It fits, wonderful!”

“It does, thank you,” You said. “Do you have a bag that I could put this in?” You brought up the shirt that you had been wearing. “Oh, let me take care of that. I’ll get it cleaned, then return it to you. It’s the least that I could do.”

“You didn’t spill the coffee on me, Diana, it’s quite alright.”

“No really. I want to. Because then I can see you-”

There was a knock on the door and two seconds later, it opened to reveal a man with dark hair and brooding features. You recognized him from somewhere. It hit you within a moment though. Bruce Wayne, of American fame.

You also noticed the dark look that went over Diana’s face, and how her smile seemed to drop when she saw who it was. “Diana,” Bruce said, stepping inside.

“Bruce,” She said, in the same low voice.

“Am I interrupting?” He asked, looking over at you. You glanced between the two of them then smiled your best and brightest smile to try to bring light into the room again.

“Not at all,” You said, setting your folded shirt on top of one of Diana’s chairs. “But one more thing, Diana,” You felt a bit nervous about this part but if you didn’t sputter it out before you left, you knew that you were going to regret it. “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner sometime next week. To return shirts. If you’re not too busy, that is. If you are, I can just come back and-”

“Dinner sounds great,” Diana said, looking like someone had just turned on the lightbulb inside of her once more. That alone was more flattering than her acceptance, because you had done that. You turned around what Bruce’s visit was, though you still weren’t sure why he was here. “I’ve been trying to ask you for a while but everything just kept getting in the way.”

“I know what that’s like,” You said with a nod. You found a package of post it notes on her desk and scrawled down your name and number on the top sheet. “Call me?”

“Yes, yes I will,” She said with a nod. You bowed your head, gave a respectful smile to THE Bruce Wayne, then headed out of the door, closing it behind you. You didn’t walk away immediately but took in the smell of the shirt that you had borrowed. It had a hint of perfume to it, but it wasn’t strong. It had been washed since she had last worn it perhaps. But it was still faintly there.

The rest of your walk around the museum was not nearly as uneventful as it had been earlier, but as you walked home, your phone began to buzz in your pocket. Unknown number. Only one person that could be and it was a call you were very eager to take.

#Diana Prince #Diana Prince x reader #Diana Prince oneshot #Wonder Woman #Wonder Woman oneshot #oneshot #dc #dc oneshot #x reader #request #one shot #dianap

[the32ndbeat]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐧 - [ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 ]

pairing: stalker!jaehyun x fem!reader ( ft haechan and loona’s haseul )

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of BDSM and mature themes

a/n: this is kinda short but I hope you guys like the first part of the ‘only you’ series!

masterlist

You were like a breath of fresh air and something like an alluring enigma amongst the common folk the moment you stepped through those doors. Your hair is swept up into a loose bun with stray locks falling around your face, framing it in the most beautiful way possible. The white cotton shirt you’re wearing is sheer and I can almost see the outline of your bra if only you weren’t wearing a cardigan over it but it’s ok. It looks flattering on you and does nothing to detract you from your beauty.

There is a hint of a smile on your lips, the sunshine illuminating the side of your face and bringing out the liveliness in your eyes that I rarely see among people these days. As you mutter your apologies and slide past an old man who has been staring at the same hammer for the last ten minutes, you exude grace even just by the way you walk and hold yourself.

“Hi, do you work here?”

It takes me a moment to register the fact that you are actually in front of me, looking me in the eye and talking to me. Your voice is as angelic and beautiful as you are, almost like music to my ears. I can already imagine how it would sound when I take you to bed and thinking about it makes me all tingly in the inside. I tap on the brass name tag pinned to my shirt and gesture towards the tool belt I have hanging loosely on my waist. Realisation dawns upon you, followed closely by mortification.

You smack yourself on your forehead, an embarrassed giggle escaping from those cute lips that I want on mine.

“I’m so sorry, that was so stupid of me…” You say and you squint to look at the tiny black letters on the name tag. “Jaehyun.”

“It’s completely alright. We all have moments like that,” I laugh and a smile tugs on your lips.

“It happens so much more often for me though.” You sigh and I wonder if anyone has ever made you feel like you’re any less intelligent than the average person. The thought of that makes me annoyed but I don’t dwell on it.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you guys sell ropes and duct tape here?”

Ropes and duct tape? My, my. What could you possibly need them for?

The question is itching at the back of my mind but I push it away as I flash you a bright grin.

“We do. Right this way.” I turn and you follow behind me.

Manoeuvring between shelves and people, we finally reach the rope section and it takes you a moment to get past a burly man blocking the aisle. He checks you out with those leery eyes of his as you walked towards me and internally I feel irritation creeping in. Creeps like that don’t deserve to look at you that way. You should be respected and men like that don’t respect women like you. I try not to think of how many times this must have happened to you without your notice as I gesture towards the spools of rope of all thickness and colours.

“We’ve got a wide selection here and you’re free to choose whichever you want and however long you want it.”

“Wow, you guys have every kind of rope here.” You said, amazement written all over your face as you grazed your fingers over the spools.

“Yeah, kind of essential since we are a hardware store after all.” I reply. How would those fingers feel on me?

You laugh and there it is again, that smile of an angel. You are so unlike other girls as cliche as that sounds and I can’t help but want to know more about you. Just who are you?

“You’re right. I ask some of the weirdest and most obvious questions ever sometimes, don’t mind me.”

I’d never mind if it’s you.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” I smile as I stuff my hands into my pocket and watch you take your pick of which rope to purchase. As you walked up and down the aisle, I can’t help but notice how snug those jeans looked on you. They look gorgeous on you, bringing out the shapeliness of your legs. When you turn your back to me, I try not to let my eyes drift down to your bottom.

“I’ll have about ten metres of this one!” You declare with a satisfied smile after a moment of deliberation, patting a spool of thin, straw rope.

“Alright,” I pull out a pair of scissors and measuring tape from my tool belt and get to cutting the rope.

“If you’re wondering why I’m buying rope and duct tape, I can assure you I’m not a kidnapper. I just realised how my shopping list could give you the wrong idea.” You say suddenly with a nervous chuckle and I raise my eyebrow at you.

You see the curious look on my face and continue, “Neither am I engaging in…BDSM… This isn’t a fifty shades of grey thing.” The flustered expression on your face is so cute, my heart could burst. What a cute and pretty face with such mature thoughts. Nobody said anything about fifty shades but here you are, assuming that was what I thought of. I wonder, just how dirty your brain actually is and realise with a start that you probably want me to know that you harbour such naughty thoughts so that’s why you said what you said.

I couldn’t hold back the chuckle at the back of my throat as I ask, “Then what is it?”

“I’m actually an architecture student at the local college nearby.” You say and I detect a hint of pride in your voice. You want to impress me - I can tell with that overly bright smile of yours when you said that.

“That’s amazing. Architecture must be pretty hardcore to study,” I say as I loop the cut rope over my elbow.

“It is,” you roll your eyes and groan. “I’m only a freshman and I haven’t even been here half a semester and I’m already dying.”

I laugh softly at your words and you smile. You like the attention I’m giving you.

“Well, it’s only going to get worse so I suggest taking it easy…” I trail off.

“Y/n.” You beam at me and I find myself replaying the sound of your name over and over in my head.

Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. What a charming name.

I grab some duct tape for you off the shelves and we head to the cash register which was as usual unattended to. Normally, I would have given Haechan a piece of my mind for his negligence again but this time, I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Is that all you’re purchasing for today, y/n?” I ask as I scan your items. I love the way your name rolls off my tongue, I could say it a thousand times and never get sick of it.

“Yup! Can’t really afford anything else at the moment either but I’ll probably be back when I need more supplies.” You sigh before adding, “College kid things.”

I’ve never been to college but I nod in an understanding way anyways and you grin.

“It’s just so tough these days, you know? Student loans and all plus the costs of living in the city? Insane.”

“Insane, indeed.” I repeat after you and as you hand me your credit card, our fingers touch briefly. Did you do that on purpose?

I take a good look at your credit card as you were staring out at the streets, seemingly preoccupied with a child who was chasing a flock of pigeons.

Y/n l/n.  

Hm, you could have given me cash but you gave me your credit card instead. You want me to know your name, not just your first name but also your last. I see what you’re doing.

I smile to myself as I proceed with the transaction. Bagging up your purchase, I pass them over to you and you say thank you. As you head out onto the street, you turn back and give me another of your dazzling smiles and I feel my heart stutter. How do you already have this effect on me?

I watch you glide down the streets outside with your hair flowing in the wind and the sunlight bringing out the brightness and liveliness in your eyes. The group of girls walking by can’t even hold a candle to you and as you walk past them, they regard you with envious looks which I can’t blame them for. You look simply beautiful.

Once you are out of sight, I whip out my phone.

Y/n l/n. Architecture student.

First, I open up instagram. A quick search of your name doesn’t yield any results. Huh, figures. I try searching up your college instead and this time, I’m slightly more successful.

I find the architecture faculty’s instagram page instead.

A simple scroll down the page shows me a freshmen group photo and I easily locate you within a heartbeat. How could I not?

In the list of tagged usernames, I find yours and…

Bingo.

I’m at your instagram profile and I’m shocked to find it on public mode. You’re not very cautious online and I’m not sure if your parents ever taught you about staying safe on the internet but even if they did, you clearly didn’t take them very seriously. I understand why you left it on public though. You want to be seen and to be heard. Well, here I am.

Barely a minute into looking through your instagram, I already have to control myself. The pictures you take are extremely flattering and you look exceptional in every single of one of them even though some of your post captions say otherwise.

I see a picture of a room’s interior from the corner of my eye and I click on it.

It’s a picture of you and another girl which I presume must be your roommate in a small room that looked more like a broom closet than an actual room. The captions say ‘Move-in day! Super excited and unfortunate to be in the same dorm as Haseul ugh ( jk love you )’

I smile despite myself. How cute.

You have a goofy smile on your face, your friend has her arms around your waist and the two of you look so happy. Yet, I find myself looking at something else instead.

Your window.

(part 2)

thank you to @ihearttbz​ for helping me to proofread this! ily ><

tagging: @hae-sicheng​ @soothingjae​ 

do send me an ask or pm if you want to be included in the taglist for the next part! 

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #jaehyun fics #jung yoonoh #jung jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct series #nct jaehyun series #nct 127 series #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct imagines #nct jaehyun #nct 127 jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fics #nct fics #jaehyun angst #nct angst #jaehyun au #nct au #nct 127 au

[tiaragqueen]

What I Want To Hear

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Villain! Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,1k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness, murder, death

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Baby, you understand me now if sometimes you see that I'm mad. Don't you know no one alive can always be an angel? When everything goes wrong, you see some bad.” - Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood [Nina Simone]

You knew there was something wrong with you when you felt nothing over your friend’s death. No, perhaps nothing was too strong of a word. You definitely felt sad, but it was too far down, too familiar, and too frequent until you could only gaze emptily at her photo on the TV. The reporter relayed the news of her suicide – at least, that was what the police concluded based on how she ‘willingly’ jumped over the bridge and fell to the gushing river – with professional coldness.

But you knew better than to trust their judgment because it wasn’t true at all. She was brainwashed to plunge into her demise, and who else in this country that possessed brainwashing quirk if not the infamous Shinsou Hitoshi?

Funny how the police didn’t even think about suspecting him or even got suspicious with his sudden absence. Then again, it was proof of how sly he could be when he wasn’t trying to attract attention.

And it was funny, in a somewhat ironic way, that he was doing this just to grab your attention.

Your phone buzzed beside you, the number that had been haunting you like the monster under your bed lit up the display. What a coincidence; just as you were pinning all the recent ‘suicides’ to him, the said man decided to call you. You contemplated the possibility of him being a secret psychic but decided that it was too farfetched and too frightening. Merely imagining the crimes he would’ve committed beyond people's comprehension sent a chill down your spine, one that you hadn’t felt ever since you rejected him and cut off any contact.

One hand hovering over the quivering device, you pondered if it was worth accepting the call. You could almost hear his deep voice, mocking the futility of your predicament and luring you into his grasp. And honestly, after everything you’d watched these past few days, you thought you deserved at least a little bit of a rest.

But, of course, Shinsou was relentless. He would stop at nothing to get whatever he wanted, even if it meant causing a few casualties along the way. The end always justified the means, after all.

“Are you watching the news right now?” Your correct assumption and his fake questioning tone brought you no relief whatsoever, only accelerating your thumping heart. You didn’t respond, but he must’ve known that you were indeed watching because he soon continued. “What do you think?”

“… I think you’re sick.” you finally replied after seconds of recollection and controlling your voice. You didn’t want to give him another display of weakness, not after you called him on one restless midnight and berated him for his blatant disregard of human lives.

“That again?” Shinsou sneered, and you wondered how good it’d feel to strangle him. Your hands twitched, itching to wrap them around his slender neck. Though, knowing him, he probably thought you were being kinky instead. You shuddered when the image of his sultry smirk flashed on your mind. “Oh, dear. You should be more creative with your insults if you want me to stop.”

“But you’re not going to stop, are you?” You didn’t know why you were him asking that. It was rhetorical, anyway, and the answer was simply too obvious. “Not until I have nobody else with me.”

“There!” he suddenly exclaimed as if he’d been waiting for you to say that. “I was beginning to think that maybe you were really dense, after all, especially after your bold action at that time.” He chuckled, the mockery as clear as the sight of your friend’s body being carried on a stretcher.

You gritted your teeth, aware of what he was referring to. “You’re not my parents! You have no right to tell me what to do!” you screamed to the line, ignoring the logical part of your brain that begged you to not fall victim into his provocation.

And you wished you would’ve listened before you let anger clouded your judgment.

“Ah, you’re right.” Shinsou sighed, and you sensed danger crashed on to your shoulders like a meteor. “How could I forget about them? I’m such a forgetful person…” Another tired sigh drifted into your keen ears as though weary of his own self. “Thanks for reminding me, [Name]. I’ll be sure to visit them later.”

Your throat felt constricted, and it took all of your strength to utter a single word; a word that halted the time and bestowed upon you a fragile hope. “Wait.”

Shinsou was quiet, but you knew he was listening. He was always listening, whether you wanted it or not. That was what initially attracted you to him; how he hung on to every word you spouted despite his apathetic face. When other people would’ve been bored and moved on to a more interesting subject, he urged you to continue instead. The amount of attention you got from him – how intense his lidded eyes against your sparkling ones – was flattering, and you hoped he was the one for you.

However, being a naïve young woman you were, you’d made a mistake of believing every single lie that left his enticing lips. You’d made a mistake of believing that he could be your one and only boyfriend, probably even soulmate because everything looked so easy in movies. How quickly the girl got the boy after a single conversation. How love seemed to fix and justify everything even the most questionable acts. How the misunderstood boy immediately became attached to the girl because she showed him kindness that he never got to experience in his life, or hadn’t received in such a long time.

It looked so easy, you forgot that reality was much different than movies. It was more real, more painful, and more severe.

“Yes…? Do you want to say something, [Name]?” he inquired once a moment had passed since you spoke. Opening your mouth, you whispered.

“… I’m sorry.”

The line went mute, and for a split second, you feared he might’ve hung up. However, a pungent – and slightly relieved, if you discerned deeper – chuckle diminished any doubt and anxiety that bubbled on your chest.

“Now that’s what I want to hear.”

Definite silence greeted you this time, and you slowly lowered your phone. Looking at the clock that ticked off the last hour of your finite freedom, the tears you’d been holding in fear of vulnerability finally trickled down your cheeks.

You kept weeping and weeping until the tears had long run out and you were left curling pathetically on the floor. Even when the front door opened and you perceived a hand stroking your back in a mock attempt of consolation, you refused to look up.

Regardless, it didn’t hinder him from greeting you as though you’d been anticipating his arrival.

“Hello, [Name].”

#yandere scenario #yandere imagine #yandere anime #anime yandere #yandere anime au #anime yandere au #yandere oneshot #yandere shinsou x reader #yandere shinsou hitoshi #yandere shinsou hitoshi x reader #yandere shinso x reader #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere shinsou #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bnha scenario #yandere bnha imagine #bnha yandere #yandere bnha #bnha yandere au #Yandere bnha au #yandere mha au #mha yandere #yandere mha #yandere mha imagines #yandere my hero academia #Yandere villain! shinsou x reader #Yandere villain! Shinsou #Yandere villain! Shinsou hitoshi x reader #Yandere villain! Shinso

[angrylizardjacket]

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} Part 3

A/N: 3050 words. Is this good? i genuinely don’t know.

[PART 2]

----

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” Douglas tells Colson flatly on Friday, still using his Nikki accent, arms crossed in between takes. They’re milling around on the Starwood set for the band’s first gig, and Douglas is in a pair of bright red, plastic boots with a considerable heel, that come all the way up his thighs, and pinch his toes. He’s already in a mood, he doesn’t need Colson’s shit-eating grin.

“I never said -” Colson tries, but he’s still grinning, can’t help himself.

“You implied,” Douglas frowns, shifting his weight on his feet. It didn’t help, “I’m not just going to show up where she works and pretend like I’m going to be a customer, that’s- it’s disingenuous, man,” the English accent slips out a little, but he corrects himself quickly, “and it’s stalking.”

“It’s not stalking -”

“It is if I’m not going to actually get a tattoo,” Douglas raises his eyebrows, watching as Colson spins idly on his drum stool.

“Fine, I’ll get a tattoo, and you can come for moral support or whatever,” he shrugs.

“Still kind of sounds like stalking,” Daniel adds from the edge of the stage, where he’s patiently sitting while a makeup assistant applies fake blood to his cheek. Beside her stands Jonah, the production assistant, diligently holding the bottle cap full of red liquid she was working from. They share a quietly amused look before Jonah glances at Colson, and the woman goes back to work.

“He’s not wrong,” Jonah agrees, and Colson throws his head back with an exasperated groan.

“And Corey said he’d personally skin you if you got any tattoos during filming,” the makeup assistant reminded him. Colson swore under his breath, scowling at the memory, but conceding defeat.

“When’s her gig?” Iwan asked from where he’d been sitting on his amp, texting and drinking water.

“Saturday,” Douglas said with an immediate smile. Thankfully no-one was looking at him enough to call him on it.

“Where?” Daniel asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Around,” Douglas answered evasively, expression souring almost immediately.

“Is that a club, or...?” Colson asks, trying to be discrete where he was pulling out his phone. Douglas kind of regrets roping any of them into this.

“Where she’s playing doesn’t matter, because none of you are going, okay?”

“Come on, man, don’t you trust us?” Said by Colson, trying his best to pull off puppy-dog eyes in his Tommy Lee costume and hair, is the absolute last thing that would help Doulgas trust him, or any of them.

“Absolutely not,” though he’s smiling a little at their antics.

“You’re the one who wanted our help,” Daniel throws over his shoulder, and the makeup assistant tells him to stay still.

“You assholes couldn’t keep your noses in your own business; I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“They’re playing Casa Cristo at ten tomorrow night,” Colson announces, blatantly ignoring Douglas, whose whole expression has scrunched into something sour by the time Colson looks back up. He holds out his phone, showing off a photo of your band with the date and time superimposed over it, “it’s on their story.” He says by way of explanation.

“How far away is that?” Iwan asks, and the makeup assistant pauses, and looks to Jonah.

“Fifteen minute drive?” She asks, and they confirm with a nod. Douglas’ dawning horror is kind of funny to watch.

“Have a little bit of faith in us,” Iwan said, with as much of an apologetic smile as he could manage. 

“You,” Douglas looked to him, “I have mild faith in; you’re not the one I’m worried about.” At that, both Daniel and Colson make noises of outrage at the implication. 

“I’ve been helping you!” Colson exclaimed, betrayed, and Douglas gave him a sidelong glance.

“And honestly, you were doing great at it until you suggested I should find out where she works and get a whole tattoo just to spend time with her.”

“I never suggested -!”

“You implied!”

During the entire car ride to your gig the following day, Douglas strongly contemplates sending you an apology in advance. Literally everyone in the car, including Jonah, who was driving, and the makeup assistant, Ally, who’d tagged along because she’d become invested after they’d filled her in on the fake-band deal, tells him it’s a bad idea.

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to apologise for, we’re not gonna helicopter parent,” Colson teased, trying to pinch at Douglas’ cheek, though he slapped him away.

“That kind of shit is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Douglas warned him, pointing a stern finger at him.

“We’ll hold him back,” Daniel says with a half smile; he’s been trying to act less nosy and more trustworthy since yesterday, apparently taking Douglas’ words to heart.

“We’ll try,” Iwan grins, as if momentarily possessed by the spirit of Mick Mars, about to watch his bandmates cause havoc and do very little to stop it. Why was Daniel the one Douglas had been worried about again?

 Anyways, nosy bastards the lot of them.

Casa Cristo is already thumping with music by the time they all arrive, fashionably late at ten thirty, all still sporting the remnants of their makeup after filming had wrapped for the day. 

When they walk in, AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long is just beginning, and you’re on stage, backlit by the LED parcans you’d brought to add a little something extra to the performance, sculling a pint of water like your life depended on it while the other two thirds of your band’s trio played through the opening of the song.

“She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean; she was the best damn woman that I’ve ever seen,” you leaned into your microphone with a sharp smile as you looked out at the crowd and the dancefloor. 

Like always, you’re a sight to behold, in black ripped jeans this time, and a shirt that was more hole than fabric, showing off your fancy bra beneath. There’s what looks to be a leather jacket in a heap beside your bass amp, and you’re rocking in time with the beat as you play your bass. 

“That her?” Ally asks over the music; everyone nods in confirmation, “she’s hot as hell; you’ve got good taste.” Douglas can’t help his smile as he moves to the bar to order a drink. The song leads into I Was Made For Loving You by KISS, and then Cum On Feel The Noize, after which the set came to an end, and you promised to be back. The guitarist stops you before you head into the crowd, and the two of you talk in low voices for a moment before he points directly at the gaggle of actors sitting to the back of the room. 

Your expression lights up when you spot them. Douglas pretends his heart doesn’t leap at the sight. Jonah head to the courtyard to smoke, joined by Daniel and Iwan, while Ally had headed to the bar, leaving, thankfully, only Douglas and Colson.

You head to the bar first to get a drink, but once you have, you make a beeline for them.

“The band with no name, back again; I don’t know if I should feel flattered or threatened,” you grin, bright and sincere as you say it, joining them at the table they’d commandeered. You’re a little sweaty from rocking out, shining and a little ethereal in the dim club lights.

“We’re scoping out the competition,” Colson grins, titling his glass to you to cheers, which you comply with happily.

“I think that means we have to play some Crue to show you how it’s done,” you answer in kind, shifting your weight on your feet, turning to face Douglas, “how about it? Think I could show you a thing or two?” 

“I’d say it’s a good thing Nikki Sixx was busy if it means I get to learn a thing or two from you instead,” Douglas hears himself say, and for a single instant, he’s terrified he’s blown his cover. Your mouth falls open in flustered shock, and your eyes go wide, something pleased amid the surprise in your expression. Colson is holding very still in an effort to not draw attention to himself.

Suddenly, you duck your head, muttering that he’s far too kind, unable to look him in the eye. When you finally do manage to regain your composure, you ask if he wants anything to drink, gesturing to his mostly empty cup.

“It’s fine, I can -” he tries to save you the trouble, but you insist that it’s no trouble.

“You can buy me one later,” and okay there’s absolutely no way to miss the flirty tone of your voice. Douglas really hopes the lights are hiding his slight flush, because he knows they’re absolutely not hiding his own pleased grin.

As you head to the bar, Colson lets out the breath he’d aparently been holding, eyes wide and grin wider as he looks at Douglas.

“What?” Douglas snaps, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“That was smooth as hell, my dude,” Colson tells him sincerely, and Douglas lets himself be a little smug.

“You know I do know how to chat up a girl, right?” He asks, and Colson raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“Just took me a bit to figure out Y/N; I’m not bad at it when I kind of know who I’m talking to.”

“Not bad a it?! Fuck, man, that was a bullseye; she’s literally buying you a drink -”

“Who?” Daniel asked, rejoining the group, alongside Ally, who was nursing an espresso martini. 

“Turns out Doug’s actually got some game,” Colson smirked, though Douglas just rolled his eyes. 

“Of course he has,” Daniel said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “look at his face; that jawline’s got more game than half the guys in here.” 

“And the eyeliner,” Ally added with an appreciative nod, which Daniel agreed with easily. At least they were being supportive. By the time you come back, Ally’s trying to reapply eyeliner to Daniel’s waterline and he’s concerned that she won’t be able to see what she’s doing in the dim light and will poke him in the eye.

“I’ll poke you in the eye on purpose, stop moving!” She yelled, his chin held tight between her fingers. You placed the drink down in front of Douglas, slotting easily into the space beside him, agonizingly close, almost touching him but not quite. You watch with confused amusement fore a few moments before Ally finishes up with a flourish; she seems surprised to see you there, and does a double take.

“Y/N,” you offer with a smile, holding out your hand, “are you the one responsible for their eyeliner? Because I must say, I definitely appreciate it,” you grin sharply. Ally shakes your hand after capping her eyeliner and shoving it back in her pocket.

“Ally, and yes, I’m the band’s stylist,” she lies easily, and your eyebrows raise.

“That first gig’s going to be something spectacular if they already have a stylist,” you muse.

“We have a name now too,” Daniel adds, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes from where they’d been watering from the makeup. You make a noise of intrigue, and Douglas buries his face in his free hand, “The Fourskins.” 

“The Fourskins.” You say tentatively, as if trying to hold back laughter, leaning in just enough that your shoulder was touching Douglas’s. 

“Because there’s four of us and we play without shirts,” Colson adds, and Douglas chokes on his drink momentarily. If you ever end up watching The Dirt, you’re probably going to end up throttling them all for thinking that this was at all subtle. 

As it stands, however, you just nod, and turn the name over in your mind, finally declaring that it works. It’s not long before Iwan and Jonah come back with your drummer in tow, and as soon as your saying hello to the other two, you’re being called back on stage.

“This next one’s for you guys!” You called over your shoulder with a grin as you’re slipping through the crowd towards the stage. The six at the table all chattered amongst themselves, trying to guess which song you’d play; Kickstart My Heart, Take Me To The Top, and Live Wire were all pretty far at the top of the list. After a brief chat with your band, however, you’d turned your bass back on and leaned into the microphone, giving a very distinctive laugh.

And you start to play She Goes Down.

“I think I love her,” Colson snorted, a sentiment which was echoed by both Iwan and Ally, while Douglas tried to keep his composure, which was a struggle with what your voice was doing and how your body was moving to the almost syrupy bass line. 

“Flat on my back she goes down,” your eyes flutter close at the bridge, practically making love to the song with your voice going low and seductive, “for backstage pass, she goes down. With all of my friends, she goes down. She gives heart attack, she goes,” you croon, your eyes opening as a grin spreads across your lips and you slam into the final chorus.

The idea that Motley Crue wrote so much about sex had never exactly registered for Douglas, it was just kind of the done thing back in the hair metal scene. It seems like a good majority of songs were either about sex or drugs or both, and but hearing the recording, he’d never been fully aware of the suggestive power of the songs until this moment. Maybe it’s the difference between knowing Nikki Sixx now in 2018, and hearing and seeing you in 2018 sing it live that makes all the difference.

Because he’s trying desperately to commit your entire performance of the song to memory.

“Nikki and Tommy would fucking love this,” Colson adds, to almost universal agreement as the next song began.

The night is joyful and exuberant, and much to Douglas’s surprise, you seem to be spending most of your time between sets with him and the other actors, though judging by the other’s reactions, he shouldn’t be so surprised.

“She’s into you,” Ally told him bluntly, the two of them together at the bar while the others were outside in the cool night air. She spoke to him as if speaking to an idiot, which he resented, “why are you surprised she wants to spend time with you?”

“I’m just...” and he sighed deeply, “I’m just worried that me or one of the guys is going to slip up somehow, and she’ll only want to be around me because of the movie.”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” Ally said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

“And I don’t know her well enough to be able to agree,” Douglas admitted; for all that he liked you, he still wasn’t quite able to discern how you’d react to him playing Nikki Sixx in the band’s upcoming biopic. He didn’t even want to bring up the film for fear of you connecting the dots.

“Then get to know her,” she suggests, as if it’s that easy. 

Somehow, having confirmation from Ally that you were into him was easier to believe than from the guys. 

After you’ve played your final song for the night and said your goodbyes to the crowd, as the crowd’s chatter grows louder, though some are already moving on to a new venue. You coil leads and haul amps around with the speed and efficiency of someone twice your age, so focused that it’s almost mesmerizing. 

The rest of the cast is making plans to move on, but as you’re taking the last of your things out to the station wagon outside, he knows the only way he’ll be able to see you again without being chaperoned by one of his nosy friends is by asking you out. 

You’re out by the car, guitar case in one hand, holding the passenger door open with the other, talking about something with the drummer who was waiting in the driver’s seat. Then you spot him through the glass of the pub doors, watching with hesitation, and you smile at him warmly. You stow your guitar case in the back seat of the car, amid milk crates of leads and microphone stands, and make your way to the door.

As Douglas steps outside, he hears the drummer call ‘I’m leaving in five, with or without you’ but you ignore him.

“Great show, as always,” Douglas smiles, letting the door close behind himself, giving the two of you a modicum of privacy.

“But you’ve only seen us perform twice,” you say with slight hesitation.

“And you’ve been consistently good,” he points out, and you’re grinning again, all bashful and pleased, contrasting your fuck off attire, “can I ask when you’re free this week?”

“You certainly can,” you rock back on your heels, eyes shining, “it’s what I came over here to ask you, actually.”

“My uh, my day job’s kind of weirdly scheduled, so it’d probably be easier for me to work around you,” he admitted, and your eyebrow rose, intrigued.

“Day job?”

“It’s complicated,” and thankfully you didn’t pry.

“Well, my band rehearses Tuesday and Thursday, but I’m free during the week after five thirty; do you wanna grab dinner some time?” You asked, hopeful. Douglas’s lips curved into a smile and he nodded.

“I’ll check my schedule tonight and talk to you tomorrow, how about that?”

“Sounds like a date!” You enthuse, and make a step towards the car, but Douglas can’t help himself.

“I enjoyed She Goes Down, by the way,” he says, and when you turn around your smile is sharp as knives as mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you will,” you wink at him, “we’ll see how the date goes.”

He watches you leave, his whole face amusingly red as he tries not to dwell on your implications, and he realises that you may very well be the death of him. Not that he’s complaining.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth imagine #douglas booth x reader #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly #iwan rheon #daniel webber #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

[you-li-ya]

Happily Ever After

Pairing: BTS member x reader

Word count: 1431

Warnings: character death, murder, suicide

Summary: Writing has always been difficult for you. You loved to fantasize about stories, stories about dragons and fairies, magic and friendship and romance. For you, nothing could beat a good love story.

However, as much as you wished to write about all your dreams and wishes, you could never find the right words for it.

In which perspective should you write it?

How should you begin your story?

And how should it end? A happy ending? A tragedy?

You never really knew, but luckily, you had him. He helped you to organize your daydreams, gave you inspiration for an introduction and encouraged you to finish your stories. His love for your ideas, all the tales you tell, always animated you to keep going, to see his glowing eyes and growing smile, while reading your books.

He was your biggest motivation and no opinion was more important than his.

He couldn’t stand reading, never did. For him, it was the most boring activity one could do. He never understood how one could like it, calling it addicting. That was, until he read your stories. He saw the world with your eyes, felt fabrics with your hands. He learned to love reading books, reading your books. They were the biggest treasure in the world, right next to you. And in his opinion no one, except for him, was worthy enough to read your books. And nobody but him would recognize the value of you.

next part

Books. Everywhere were books. Stacked on the table, piled next to the bed. But they weren’t just any books. No, every single volume, every page, was written by you. He could open any of those, in his eyes, treasures and immerse into a new world, another universe, a paradise. Your fantasy, your whole mind was completely innocent, free of any filth. And your whole being was just as innocent as your mind. Once he saw you up close at a fan meeting. If he hadn’t known beforehand, he would have thought he was standing in front of an angel. You radiated such purity that he was afraid to stain you, when your fingertips touched while you took his copy of your newly written book. You gave him a smile, showing so much love in your eyes, he had to hold himself back to not whisk you away. Far away from all of the others preying eyes, who just waited to taint you, to let you wither like a beautiful flower in a field of weed. He could not allow that. No it was his mission, the purpose of his whole life, to protect you. He would be your knight in shining armor.

Covers. He loved the hardcovers the most. The printed picture of you on these had the best quality. It was easier for him to copy your face from them, print posters for his wall and small photos for his wallet, so  he could always look at you.

He remembered the first time he saw your face. It was on the back of the book, you flashed a big grin for the camera, showed how excited you were to publish your first novel. Your name was printed right under your picture, so perfect sounding and melodic that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud.

But right under your image was his. In your very first book and in every other one as well.

Kim Namjoon. Your editor and the very first person in every of your acknowledgments.

He loathed to see this person soil your beautiful book covers and execrated him every time he read your thanks to Kim Namjoon. Him, being your biggest support, your help in dark times? Nonsense, he was your biggest fan, he read no other book than yours. Wrote you letters, was the first to inform you what a masterpiece you created. So why wasn’t he mentioned but this excuse of a man? He truly hated Kim Namjoon.

Pages. He always imagined you would smell like the pages of an old book. You mentioned once in an interview that you loved to collect antique novels. All of your book recommendations were on your personal blog. He read every single on of them and immediately purchased the next one if you updated your list, but he could never really find the reason why you liked those books. They were boring, completely ordinary and it made him feel sick, thinking how you would believe those are better authors than you. He just hoped you wouldn’t let yourself be influenced.

He loved you for your originality. If someone was to wear the same outfit as you or to have the same hairstyle, it would always be the other person who copied you, be it a normal person or a celebrity. Everything you did was better, and while he normally hated changes, he trusted you to make the right choices, be it on your body or in your books. The only thing he could never forgive was you talking down on yourself. He would never lean back and watch how someone, not even yourself, would dim your light. He would protect you, but how?

Words. Every word that passed you lips was like a spell that enchanted him. From your soft voice in the interview videos, the emotional whisper in your public readings to the happy laugh when you announced your engagement. The man next to you, Kim Namjoon, moved his arm around your waist when the desktop of his computer went black. He saw his reflection in the cracked monitor, the mouse he previously still held in his hand, laying behind the broken screen. Did he threw it? He didn’t notice it, still to enraged about your future plans to care for the damage in front of him.

You, engaged to him? Don’t make him laugh. You were destined to be with him and not with your editor. He had already planned everything, from your wedding theme to where you would live after your honeymoon. And you, you just destroyed everything. Yes, it was your fault that he destroyed his monitor, that he began to loose his mind. You should take responsibility for your actions.

He was out of his apartment and on the street, on his way to you when a different thought crossed his mind. What if it wasn’t your decision? What if it was this man, if he was responsible for all of this? Did he blackmail you, force you to marry him? It had to be like this, you would never deceive him without a reason.

He quickened his pace, you must be scared to death, completely alone with this monster. You were so helpless without his protection, it was almost cute.

Finished. Your book was finally finished. You told him, he inspired you to write it, the male protagonist was his role. He was thrilled hearing that. All those months he had kept you in his apartment were paying off. He was distraught when you refused to talk to him, completely ignored him. The only time you broke your silence was to yell at him or to cry. He hated seeing your tears, he never really knew what to say, none of his words helped you feel better. But one day he finally found the reason for all your sadness.

His clothes were soaked in blood when he came home later then usual. His feet carried him into your room, wanting to show you his gift for you. He saw tears well up when he showed you his surprise, but after this night you never cried again. He was more than happy that he finally eliminated the cause of all of your sorrow. To celebrate this, he hanged your present over the door to the kitchen, to always remind you, there was no reason to cry anymore. He never noticed how you refused to enter the kitchen since then or how your eyes were always down casted when you left your room, just to avoid the sight of Namjoon’s head over the door frame.

To be continued. Were the last words on your manuscript. His fingers caressed the letters, before he closed the book. A prince, you wrote him as a crown prince. But, why did he hurt you so much in the story? It wasn’t like you to write such cruel books. You normally would create your own world, so why did you pick the Joseon era? What triggered your change? His feet carried him into your room, wanting to confront you about your abnormal behavior.

You laid in your bed, blood dripping down your arm, your breath shallow. Your eyelids flattered open when his shadow fell upon you. You gave him a weak smile, to tired to show or even feel your hatred towards him. He didn’t understand, why were you hurt? Pieces of the mirror laid next to your bed, splattered with your blood, both of your wrists cut open.

He knelt in front of you and held your hands, which were getting colder and colder. You wouldn’t die, you wouldn’t leave him alone. Now that you no longer hate him, both of you could start a new life, explore the world and create your own love stories. Your last breaths came only slowly, you struggled with every gasp. Your eyes opened a last time and to find his.

“I… I am so tired about- About everything that’s happening… Why… Won’t you leave me alone… For the last few minutes… H… Hoseok?”, your eyes squeezed shut when you took an especially straining breath.

The corners of his mouth curved upwards. It was the first time you called him by his name, not just some cuss or insult. Now, you truly loved him.

He kissed your forehead, covered you with your blanket and turned the lights off, before exiting your room. The slumber you fell into afterwards was for eternity, but this was okay, because he was always there to care for you. He would never leave you alone.

And here is my first fanfiction and the start of my first series as well. M biggest thanks go to Google Translator and any other translating website, I feel like this fanfic sucked all of my English skills out of me. Thank you for reading and happy birthday to our Hope.

#bts #bts kim namjoon #bts rm #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #bts jung hoseok #jhope fanfic #j-hope #bts jhope #bts j-hope #bts fanfic #bts series #bts yandere #bts yandere au #bts x reader