#I’m sorry but I just can’t see myself using the shop tab

[kabukiaku]

Day 3 of the new tumblr update: it’s still terrible

#STAFF please. please change this. #also I can’t find the mute button for these features as I’ve been told #tbd #paola speaks #bad tumblr updates #I’m sorry but I just can’t see myself using the shop tab #every app is becoming an over saturated eyesore.

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There: Chapter Eight

read from part one!

Noah and Natalie meet in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams, the things you love the most get left behind.....

Warnings: mentions of alcohol use, mentions underage drinking, absent parents

“Hey Ky, I thought you were staying with dad?” I ask hesitantly not wanting to provoke his anger that I’ve grown so accustomed to. “I wanted to finish school in person. It doenst matter, dads place sucked anyway.” His smile falls and his shoulders tense. “Oh okay, well I’m gonna go back to my room.” I shuffle out awkwardly. “Okay, later.”

Natalie: so kyle is back…said dads place sucked. Wtf! 8:45pm

Noah: WHAT?! -_- your dad didn’t even call first? 8:47

Natalie: probably called my mom, but I have talked to her in a few days. She was passed out on the couch this morning. 8:47

Natalie: looks like she had a bottle of wine for dinner…or is it considered breakfast if you have it at 6am? 8:47

Noah: yikes. I’m sorry Nat. 8:48

Noah: did he say anything else? 8:48

Natalie: no, just started acting all defensive so I dropped it. 8:49

Noah: hm..think something happened with you dad? 8:50

Natalie: with Kyle? Probably. 8:51

Natalie: I’m just going to do my best to ignore him, and maybe we move movie night to your place lol. 8:52

Noah: lol of course, and you’re obviously welcome here anytime. I’ll come and pick you up anytime just say the word. 8:52

Natalie: my hero :) <3 ily

Noah: ily :)

We text back and for the rest of the night until I pass out on my bed. 

The next day Noah picks me up in the late afternoon so we can go to one of his shows together. Nick is in the back seat when I climb in the car. Greeting them both we drive off towards the venue they’re playing at for the night. Noah’s band has really picked up traction. He's put together a four member group of guys he’s found at other gigs, Nick is playing guitar and they have another guy Julius on drums and Mikey on Bass. They’re older and I don’t talk to them much. They’ve been asked to play in more bars and even some small venues. I can’t make all of them because of work but I try to go to as many as I can. It’s new territory for me. I’ve been to a lot of his shows over the summer but they're getting bigger and the crowd is rowdy. I have to stick to the back to not get overwhelmed but I’m happy to be there supporting Noah. 

The school year starts off strong. After a few weeks I’m managing my class work and work at the coffee shop pretty well. My AP classes are challenging but not impossible. Maggie from work is in my AP Econ class and it’s nice to have someone to study with. Sometimes Noah comes to surprise me at work. He'll order a drink and flirt with me the whole time I’m making it just to see how red he can make my face; those days he will wait until I’m off so he can drive me home. We’ll make out in the car until I have toI pry myself out before it gets too late. Noah and Kyle aren’t best friends by any means. They do their best to ignore each other in school and when Noah is picking me up or dropping me off but, that doesn’t stop him from making random comments here and there. 

“You came in pretty late last night, Noah hoping you flunk out completely and follow him around forever?” Kyle snips one morning as I’m making myself a bowl of cereal before catching the bus. “Since when is it your job to keep tabs on my comings and goings?” I say back to him “you don’t ever get any shit from me when you show up wasted on a school night. You know why?” I question. “Because I’m not mom or dad and neither are you, I can look out for myself just fine. But thanks for your concern” my voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Just be careful sis, he’s clearly more concerned with his own rockstar future than yours. Don’t throw your life away for some guy.” He finishes and I can almost hear genuine care in his voice. “You’ll end up just like mom.” With that I tense, my bowl of cereal placed down with more force than necessary, sending milk and Cheerios spilling over the side. “I am nothing like her.” I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “And I never will be.” I exit the house without looking back at Kyle and slam the door, heading for the bus. 

Noah has a Thursday night show out of town and is all but begging me to go “I can’t Noah, I wish I could but I have an Econ test Friday and a science project due” I sigh, knowing I’m letting him down. “This show is huge baby. There’s going to be a lot of people there that could really help me.” He’s holding my hand’s against his chest and I can feel his rapid heartbeat. “Having you there would mean everything to me. I promise I’ll get you home right after the show, you’ll be in bed sleeping, fully rested for your test.” He says with the sweetest smile. “I need my Natalie with me” he kisses me and my defense melt “okayyy, okay, I’ll go,” I concede. 

“Yes!” He picks me up triumphantly and spins me around making us both laugh “thank you Natty” he squeezes me in a hug “ugh I love you so much” I return his hug and sigh like a love sick fool “I love you too”. 

Thursday night rolls around and while I have last period free, Noah and Nick skip their last class so they can meet Julius and Mikey to make sound check. The venue is a little over an hour away and we make it there by 4:30 just minutes before he needs to be on for sound check. The night goes on without a hitch; Noah and Nick meet a lot of people and seem to make a lot of connections but time is slipping away. Suddenly it’s 11:30pm and I cant find either of them anywhere. I’m searching the dark and smokey venue and can’t see Noah’s towering figure anywhere. Quickly becoming overwhelmed with all the drunken patrons bumping into me, I decide to go wait outside on the curb for them to finish up. I take out my phone and text Noah that I’m waiting outside so they can find me when they’re done. Finally they finish up and I notice it’s already 12:20am. The car unlocks and I take a deep breath as I climb in, exhausted from the night.

I’m used to being fast asleep on a school night by this hour, so I’m having a hard time staying awake as Noah excitedly recounts the night “Natty, that was amazing I can’t believe it, we played so well. I think that guy from Nashville is going to offer us some recording space! Isn’t that awesome?!” I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone muster the energy to respond. I let out a soft “mmhm” in reply. “I’m sorry baby, I’ll get you home soon. Just close your eyes and we’ll be there before you know it.” 

There’s a massive pileup on the way home and with the sounds of the sirens mixed with the lights shining I don’t sleep at all. When we finally make it back to my house it's nearly 3am. I just about fall out of the car before Noah is able to throw it in park. As I open my door, he goes to exit with me, exasperatedly I turn back and tell him, “Don’t worry about it. I’m going straight to bed.” If I had the energy I would have slammed the door. He exits anyway and races after me apologizing “I’m sorry Natty, I know I said it wouldn't be late.” I stop before opening the front door and look at him with exhausted eyes “I know you didnt mean too Noah. Look, I’m too tired for this.” I sigh. “I just want to go sleep for the few hours I have left before my alarm goes off.” I open the door and stand in the doorway “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I say to him, sleep the only thing on my mind. “Okay, love you Natty.” he responds and leans to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Mmhm, love you” I tell him, closing the door and locking it. I head upstairs and crash onto my bed, asleep instantly.

When I wake up the next morning I turn over in bed and look at my alarm clock. “OH FUCK!” I shriek. It’s 10am.

I missed my Econ exam.

page divider from here :)

Next chapter here!

xoxoxox love you guys thanks for reading!!

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount

#noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #my fic #real people fanfiction #noahsebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens smut #lovers to strangers #second chance romance #smut #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #nick ruffilo

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

I’m a winner - Rio (Good Girls)

First ever imagine, I’m obsessed with the dude!  Thanks to @breanime​ for making me want to write about daddy Rio 👅 Go check out her stuff. 

Warning : none

Word Count : 1.3k

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“So, you never told me how last night ended” I smiled at Romy as she applied the stencil on my skin.

“We stayed there for maybe an hour or two after you left” She said while focusing on the placement of the paper. “He said he wanted to bring me on a real date before inviting me to his place” She laughed shaking her head slightly.

“Did you agree to his offer?” I said standing up and looking in the mirror as I approved of the design that was sitting on my right hip. “It’s perfect Romy, I can’t wait for it to be done, it’s gonna look so good”

“We have a date on Friday” She chuckled “Anyway what about you” “What do you mean what about me? We were together last night” I said looking down at her as I sat back down on the tattoo chair. “Ah come on! I saw how that guy at the bar was looking at you, girl he wanted you” she said laughing “What guy?” “Are you kidding me? The dude with the neck tattoo! I can’t believe you didn’t go up to him, he was checking you out all night” She sighed putting on gloves and taking her equipment.

We continued talking as I laid there, getting tattooed when we heard the front door open and then a deep voice spoke “Yeah hi, I have an appointment to get my nose pierced” a guy said “Oh yes! Romy will be right with you. She’s finishing up with a client, it shouldn’t be too long, you can sit here while you wait”

Romy touched up the last part and made me stand up to look at the result. “Dude, you look hot” she said as I looked at the small snake that was now permanent on my skin. “I love it, thank you so much” I smiled at her “Should I wait for you to go grab lunch after you’re done with your next appointment” “Yeah piercings usually don’t take that long, we’ll go grab a bite after” she said as I followed her to the front of the shop. “I’m ready when you are” she told the guy who was looking down at his phone. When he looked up, our eyes met, and I realized it was the man from the bar.

Romy stared at the both of us for a minute before she interrupted us “Um (Y/N) you can wait here till I’m finished -- You can follow me” she said making the guy with the neck tattoo look in her direction as he followed her to the room next to us.

I couldn’t believe it! Was that guy following me? No, it must be a coincidence, right? He said he had an appointment, so it wasn’t a last-minute thing. I must have been in my head for a moment because next thing I know, the two of them were coming back, laughing together at something Romy said.

“So (Y/N) you won’t believe this, the bar we went to last night, well he owns it and he invited us for drinks tonight” She said pointing at him and winking at me “Oh w-well that’s very nice of you, thank you! My name’s (Y/N) by the way” I said extending my hand. He smiled shaking my hand softly “I’m Rio. I have to run, but I guess I’ll see you tonight” He semi asked looking straight into my eyes. “We’ll be there” Romy answered right away as Rio left after paying what he owed her.

Romy and I proceeded to go grab a bite before she had to go back to the shop, and I headed back to my place. We were supposed to meet at the bar around 8 so it gave me more than enough time to prepare myself.

I went about my day until it was finally time to get ready. I put on some R&B music and danced while choosing my outfit. I opted for a pair of high waisted blue jean, an emerald cowl neck top and finished the fit with some strappy heels. I applied a bit of makeup and checked in the mirror before heading out the door.

When I arrived at the bar, I looked for Romy, but she wasn’t there yet, so I got closer to the bartender and sat on a stool. “Hi, I’ll have a Manhattan please” “This one’s on me, put it on my tab” I turned to the side as Rio sat at the empty stool beside me. Not gonna lie, he was attractive. He had on an all-black outfit and I could see the eagle tattoo peeking out from his collar.

“You’re looking good mama” He said sipping on his drink as he was clearly checking me out. I smiled at him, blushing as the bartender put the drink I ordered in front of me “Thank you”

“So, I see you came here by yourself” “Oh no – I mean Romy is probably just running late” I responded “Right, right” He downed his drink as he smirked, ordering another one.

We made small talk as I was waiting on Romy to arrive. My phone buzzed indicating that I got a text

Romy

Hey girl, sorry but I can’t make it tonight, I’ll explain everything tomorrow have fun with Rio tho ;)

“Everything’s good mama?” he asked me, looking worried “Umm yeah, Romy just texted me, she can’t make it” I said putting my phone back into my purse “So I guess it’s just us than” he stared at me smirking lightly. “I’m not complaining” He continued.

I stood up, drink in my hand “Care to join me at the pool table” he followed me handing me a cue stick as he places the triangle and the balls on the table. “Ladies first” he said smiling.

We played for a bit, and Rio had practically missed every shot as I shot the 8 ball inside the top right corner. “I win” I said doing a little victory dance. “Wanna play another one, or are you too scared to lose again?” I continued, smiling widely as he looked at me smirking.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not scared of you” he said laughing slightly “What do you say we make this interesting?” He asked putting back the balls into the triangle. “If I win, I get to take you on a proper date” “And if I do?” “You decide, but you won’t” he said winking at me. I decided to be bold “Fine, if I win, I get to have a kiss” I said averting his gaze, and sipping on my drink.

“Damn mama, you’re making me want to lose now” I chuckled. As we started playing, I couldn’t believe what was happening, Rio was emptying the table, ball after ball “What the heck, why are you so good all of a sudden?” “I was being a gentleman babe” he said laughing “Come on, your turn” he continued, passing behind me, getting close to by body. We both striked a couple of more balls, when Rio was on to the last one. “Top left corner” he said as he made the last shot, both of our eyes followed the ball, ending in the hole in the top left corner.

“I guess this makes me a winner” he said approaching me smiling “Not gonna lie, I’m kind of bumped out you didn’t win - was kinda hoping I would get to kiss you”

I pulled myself closer to his body as I looked up, staring at him through my lashes.

“Who says you can’t” as soon as the words left my lips, one of his hands was placed on my hip and mine found their way around his neck.

To my surprise, the kiss was soft and the way he was holding me so gently made me melt into his touch. Our lips fit perfectly together, and it felt like both of us didn’t want to pull away. When we did, I looked up at him, but his dark eyes were already on me as a smile appeared on his lips.

“I’m definitely a winner”

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Thank you for reading

Hope you liked it , let me know what you think

-K

#rio #rio x reader #rio good girls #manny montana #good girls nbc #good girls fanfic #rio imagine #goodgirls

[sugrbugz]

their reaction to you coming out as trans!! : BOKUTO, KENMA, AKAASHI, OIKAWA, TSUKKI, & ASAHI ♥︎

CW: this covers topics such as gender dysphoria, transphobia, and ignorant parents. please be safe my loves!!

transphobes get the fuck outta here right now

also i’m ftm myself so i’m writing from my own experience! if you want a non binary one or even mtf let me know! ♥︎

BOKUTO

would be so very excited to go clothing shopping with you but also giving you all of his hoodies in the mean time-

would love to show you off as his official boyfriend, would fight transphobic people for you

“hey bo, can we talk?” you asked softly, only causing him to open his arms wide from where he was sitting on your bed. you crawled into his lap like you always did, your hands shaking a bit when your wrapped your arms around his neck. “what’s up little owl!” he smiled wide, flashing you that beautiful smile of his. “it’s sorta serious love..” you mumbled making his smile fall only a bit, it falling completely when you started crying. “lovebug? what’s wrong..you can talk to me baby” he soothed making you nod. “i know we’ve talked about your preferences before and i don’t know where i fall but-“ you hiccuped, trying to figure out how to say it. “i’m transgender..i want to be a boy” you sobbed out, ultimately terrified he’d leave even though you knew he wouldn’t. “no..” he started making you cry only harder, not even three seconds later were calloused fingers there to wipe them, “you are a boy..not want, right baby?” he smiled softly, kissing your nose.

KENMA

his emotions would hurt him first only because he wouldn’t fully understand why you’re so upset

best hair stylist in the game!! he’d do your hair so you don’t have to deal with judgemental old ladies and weird barbers.

would 100000000/10 drop anything hes doing to snuggle you since he knows how much of a bitch dysphoria can be

it actually happened by accident. currently you were in the bathroom, shaky hands on a pair of scissors you’d found in the kitchen. it was one of those moments. you weren’t officially out to anybody, not even your boyfriend just simply out of fear of being disliked. however when kenma came to use the bathroom after doing a five hour livestream her heart almost shattered right then and there. you were too into your head to even notice his presence, snapping back to reality when he took the scissors from you. that’s when the tears started. he was quickly to pull you close, kissing your head. “i think i understand..but if i don’t, please explain..” he whispered softly into your ear. “i-i..” you stuttered, you didn’t even know how to say it. “i’ve been dealing with my gender for awhile and came to the conclusion that im a boy..” you sniff, snuggling into his chest since the comfort felt good. “okay baby, you’re still mine okay?” he spoke so soft it was reassuring. “but come to me instead of butchering your hair, you know damn well i could cut it better. dork.” he winked sitting you down to actually cut your hair properly.

AKAASHI

wasn’t totally surprised even though he is oblivious to most things

he would be so sweet about it??????? he wouldn’t even question you???? just accepting right away

after you were ready to come out? god he would be so overbearing with how supportive he was. “hey have you seen my BOYFRIEND?” or “are you doing okay, pretty boy?” he would do it all the time

he already knew. you’d asked him to pack your laptop in your book bag since you guys were going to study at the library. he usually didn’t snoop and honestly minded his business, but when he saw what he thought was a dildo his curiosity was peaked. you had millions of tabs open, all pertaining to the concept of gender identity. his heart softened sadly, upset by the fact you did this all alone. you came up to check what was taking him so long, face dropping when you saw what was open, “i-i promise i can explain-!” you rush forward but he quickly wraps two arms around you, kissing you softly. “shush. you don’t need to explain.” he smiled, “your preferred name and pronouns my darling?” he hummed in addition, grinning from the blush on your cheeks. “uhm..y/n..and he/him..please..” you whisper making him nod, “i’ve got the cutest boyfriend every yanno that?”

OIKAWA

would make fun of you for a bit until he realized this was actually serious

he would also apologize profusely for doing so.

would go out and buy you 67963334 slacks just to see you in them i know it

“tooru i’m serious!” you’d whimper, genuine tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. that’s when he knew he took it too far. “hey..i was just joking around…does me calling you girlie actually make you uncomfortable? why?” he was confused but then again you couldn’t blame them. you’d told iwa you were trans, hoping to get someway to tell oikawa but there wasn’t much acknowledgment of him at all. “yes..it does” you nodded wiping your eyes. “is it because you’re trans?” all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you at this. “how did you..” you’d ask softly, “i dunno! i’m just really good at this!” he giggled before kissing your head and getting off the couch you two were on. “one minute!” he ran upstairs and about five minutes later came back with all his old clothes he outgrew. “here! ‘ma saved them for donating to relatives but your more important” he hummed making you blush, “tooru you don’t-“ “and what’s your pants size?” “uh-i-“ “it’s okay doesn’t matter we’ll get all of them.” “ALL OF WHAT.” and that’s honestly how the rest of your night went.

TSUKKI

he wasn’t totally surprised but then again he knew how your parents were and would understand your hesitation for coming out

it didn’t really phase him at all. have you seen his gender nonconforming best friend? tsukki wouldn’t care unless you were authentically yourself.

would always give you reassurance, no matter how much you needed.

you’d come to your boyfriends house for the third night this week, his mom more than happy to let you stay. “he’s upstairs!” she’d smile from where she was making dinner. you already knew where to find his room, so coming inside and throwing your bags down casually wasn’t an issue at all. “y/n how many times do i have to tell your messy ass that you don’t put bags in the middle of the-“ he spun in his desk chair to look at you, his face falling the second he saw your face go red and tears streaming down your face. tsukki fucking SUCKED with emotions but he wouldn’t be pathetic and not try. “cmere moonie, what’s wrong” he frowned getting up and sitting on the bed, pulling you down with him. “i told them” you stated simply, his own anxiety kicked in. “and?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “they kicked me out.” you nodded towards the fourish bags you had dropped. “well..fuck them. here you’ll be loved and respected. they don’t deserve you. no one does. now, ill ask mom if we can move in the old dresser from akiterus room..you make yourself comfy. change, take of makeup, whatever it is. here? you’re allowed to be who you are.” and with that he was gone. tsukki may look like an asshole but he tries his best not to be for you.

ASAHI

wouldn’t initially get it, but it would take some explaining and he’d be absolutely on board

would probably smoother you in love and affection for being brave enough to tell him how you’ve been feeling

similar to akaashi he’d be quick to correct those who use incorrect pronouns (unless you tell him not too) while expressing love for his boyfriend

dating asahi had plenty of benefits, most importantly his ability to scare those off who were rude to you. you had come out to him a week ago, he needed some help understanding the process but soon he was very on board and understanding. now you two were eating lunch with noya and tanaka, watching a group of girls who ever now and then looked back at you to laugh and point. you’d just gotten your gender affirming hair cut the night before. you began to feel very self conscious about everything, just slowly tucking yourself into asahi who immediately realized something was wrong. “what’s up babe?” he asked watching you nod towards the group. with that he gently passed you over to noya who was very excited for the hugs he was allowed to give his close friend. needless to say asahi scared the living hell out of those girls. when all was said and done, he took you to the boys bathroom and locked the door. he simply hugged you, rubbing your back while you almost immediately cried. “it’s okay bunny..i’m sorry people can’t mind their own business-not that it’s my fault-i dunno why i apologized-sorry-i-“ he took a deep breath but his nervous rambling had made you giggle. “thank you, you giant teddy bear” you smiled leaning up to give him a nice soft kiss.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima imagine #bokusof hq #asahi headcanons #hq asahi #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru #oikawa imagine #oikawa headcanons #akaashi imagine #akaashi keiji #asahi azumane #kenma hcs #kenma kuzome #hq bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto koutaro

[multiplefandomfics]

Vacation

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Virgin!PlusSize!reader

Warnings: self consciousness, unprotected smut, authority kink, daddy kink, angst, fluff

Words:3295

You were sitting in a bar somewhere in Croatia. Frustrated about the turn of recent events.

The trip was supposed to be about you and your friends. Just enjoying the sun and ocean. No boys allowed! But then on the 2nd evening your friends had abandoned you at the bar to go clubbing with some boys from spain. Fan-fucking-tastic, you thought.

There went your nice all girls vacation. The way you knew your friends you weren't going to see them for a while.

Just as you were about to pay your tab and leave, someone sat down next to you and started talking. “Hi, sweetheart. You alone here?” he didn’t say much but you recognized that voice immediately. Your head snapped upwards and your eyes widened. Of all the people you would have never expected him there. Sebastian Stan. The man of your wet dreams.

You fumbled your phone out of your purse and unlocked the screen. Yep, he was definitely the man from your wallpaper.

“You okay there?” he asked, smiling before his eyes fell on your background picture.

“Oh, so you know me.” he figured.

“Ehm, yeah, yeah I do. Holy shit you’re even more beautiful in person.” you swooned.

He laughed heartily at that and ordered you and himself another drink.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you with your girlfriend on vacation? Sorry if I give off stalker vibes” you turned red faced.

“That’s a long story but to cut to the chase, I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.” his face turned slightly sour at the thought of his ex.

“Oh, I’m genuinely sorry to hear that. She seemed to make you happy.”

“Well, she did. But not anymore. So enough of her, what’s your name and what are you doing here?” He changed the topic.

“How rude of me, my name is Y/N and I was initially here to have a nice week with my girls. But now they've abandoned me in favor of some guys. So I decided to have a few drinks by myself and then go back to the house we rented.” you let all your frustration out.

“Wow, that sounds terrible. But the night doesn’t have to end like this. Would you like to dance?” he asked friendly.

“I can’t dance.” you objected.

“I’ll lead you, come on.” he paid for both of your drinks and then held out his hand for you to take. And how could you say no to that face?

“Alright. Let’s do this. And thanks for the drinks but you didn’t need to pay for me.” you told him.

“I know. You look like you could hold your own but I simply wanted to pay.” he grinned and you accepted his answer.

He pulled you onto the kinda crowded dance floor and guided your hands on his shoulders. Then he guided your clumsy body to the beat and soon it started to be real funny.

“Okay, that was fun but I need a break. And preferably some fresh air.” you yelled over the music out of breath.

He understood and took you outside in front of the bar and a bit away from the entrance where the smokers stood.

“See I told you if you ease into things and give me a chance I can make this a night you won’t forget.” he grinned, mischievously.

“A bit cheeky aren’t we?” you tried to play his game but his advances made you a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

The thing was, you didn’t decide on a men free vacation with your friends because you wanted to get a break from all the guys pursuing you at home but because your friends were constantly surrounded by guys and only talked about their experiences with the opposite sex and that reminded you of how inexperienced you were.

You had always been self conscious. Your girl friends were always tall and skinny or at least of normal weight and could wear all the trendiest clothes but you could not shop for nice wearables so easily. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when you went out with your friends and you had really given your look everything, still they were advanced by men and you weren’t. It was frustrating.

That brought you back to the situation at hand- why did Sebastian Stan, Hollywood hottie, decide to pick you out of all these beautiful girls at the bar? It was a riddle to you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly asked.

“Anything.” he smiled.

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

The hurt in your eyes told him that you were genuinely interested in an honest answer.

“Because you seemed lonely and so am I. Also you are beautiful and now I know that you are kind and funny, too. You are perfect.” you couldn’t believe that.

“Are you serious? Me? Perfect? You have gotta be kidding me!” you scoffed.

“Why would I? In you I see something permanent. Something that could develop into more. What do you see?” he asked, concerned.

“I don’t know. I just have never heard that I am beautiful from a man before.” you looked down, embarrassed.

“You can’t be serious! What kind of stupid idiots have you met in your life before?” he asked, astonished.

“The kind that wants a model type by their side. Just the kind of arm candy you should have by yours too. Not a chubby girl like me. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” you had to hold back tears at your confession and wanted to turn around to leave. But he grabbed your arm and forced you to look at him. “Hey, don’t go. I meant what I said. I am sorry that you have only been hurt by men so far but I promise I’m not like that. You can rely on me. I really want to get to know you. Let me take you home and we watch a movie or something? It’s only 10pm. No strings attached.” he offered.

That did sound like a dream and you decided quickly that you had nothing to lose if you said yes.

“Okay. The house is right up that hill and behind that little bit of forest.” you informed him.

He offered his arm, gentlemen like and you took it.

“So where are you from when you are on vacation here at the moment?” he asked to make smalltalk.

“I’m from Germany.”

“Impossible! I heard Germans speak English and they have a strong accent. You have barely an accent and I would have placed you closer to the states.” he was surprised.

“I hear that a lot actually. But I have never been to the US. I just watch a lot of movies and TV shows in English. And I read books in English too.” you smiled bashfully.

“That’s amazing. I think I have a stronger european accent than you do and I’ve lived in the US since I was 12.” he laughed.

“Well, English is my comfort language so I’m always happy when I can use it.” you said nonchalantly.

“Marvelous. You’re amazing.” he complimented.

“Oh, stop it.” you turned red.

“I’m only saying what's true.”

“You’re too kind.”

You walked uphill towards the small wood you had to cross, in the dark. Great idea!

He walked pretty fast and you had to almost jog to keep up with him which made you sweat and got you terribly out of breath.

When the trees around you got thicker and it got even darker it happened. You stepped on a rock, it rolled to the side and you twisted your ankle.

“Shit! Ouch!” you exclaimed loudly.

“What happened?” he asked scared.

“Twisted my ankle. It’s just too fucking dark.” you were angry at yourself for being so stupid.

“Damn. Can you step on your foot?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But what other options do we have? I gotta try.”

You stepped from your left foot onto your right and it buckled beneath you under the pain. “Fuck!”

“Okay that won’t work.” he stated and the next second he just picked you up bridal style and started to carry you on.

“Are you crazy? Let me down. I’m definitely too heavy to carry.” you ordered him.

“No, you are not. And when you try to hobble home we won’t make it until sunrise. So now shut up and let me carry you.” he silenced you efficiently.

“But take a break if you need to, and you will need one eventually.” you mumbled.

The rest of the way you held onto him and buried your face in his neck. Damn, did he smell good. It almost made you moan.

When you arrived at the door he didn’t let you down as you would have expected him to, no, he grabbed the keys from your hands, opened the door and carried you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

“Thank you Sebastian. You are so kind. What can I ever do to repay you?” you asked him.

“Hmm, maybe let me kiss you?” he suggested and you had to swallow nervously. He immediately picked up on your hesitation “Only if you want to of course.”

“Sure I want to, but… I have never kissed anyone before.” you averted your eyes in embarrassment.

“Then let me change that, please.” he begged. You saw no resentment or reproach in his beautifully blue eyes.

Of course you caved and nodded your consent.

He leaned closer to your crouched form on the couch, put his hand on your thigh and brushed his lips to yours.

The kiss was sweet and careful not to startle you or demand something from you that you could feel uncomfortable with.

“So how was your first kiss?” he asked and smiled.

“Very nice.” you looked blissed out at him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I would really love to do that again.”

“Please do.” you confirmed.

Oh and he did. The kiss was magical. This time he pushed his tongue sensually into your mouth and you were stunned how good that felt.

��You okay?” he wanted to know afterwards.

“More than okay. I’m happy you picked me at the bar. Usually they say “never meet your heroes” but with you that’s different.”

“Thanks,doll. That means a lot to me.” he leaned in and kissed your neck.

At the mention of that particular nickname your posture stiffened. He noticed.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

“Ehm, well … you know I haven’t only had a crush on you but also on Bucky… maybe.” you whispered.

At first he seemed confused as to where this confession suddenly came from but then it clicked.

“It’s the nickname. I called you doll.” he laughed. “I didn’t even register that I got that from him. But if it turns you on I will keep using it.” that grin could win you over any day.

“I could get used to it actually. I never would have imagined someone calling me that. But you make it sound so hot. Thanks for making me feel good.”

“Anytime, doll.” he kissed you again.

“By the way, didn’t we wanna watch a movie?” you suddenly asked.

“Yes, of course. Do they have Netflix or something on here?” did he wanna know.

“Disney+. And with it all the Marvel Movies.” you winked at him.

“Anything you want, doll.” he kept using that nickname over and over but you loved it.

“Which one have you not seen yet?”

“I think I’ve actually seen them all. Which one is your favorite?”

“I love the ones you’re in the most.” you confessed.

“Okay, close your eyes and I’ll pick your favorite one.” he suggested.

“Alright. Let’s give it a try.” you agreed.

When you were allowed to open your eyes again you saw the opening credits of a Marvel movie flashing. You recognized the first scene: The Washington Monument and a very exhausted looking Sam Wilson and you heard “on your left” which made you smile. He knew then that he had picked the right movie.

“Good choice.” you praised him.

Then you cuddled up to him and he put his arm around you.

Although you were pretty tired after about half the movie you could not skip over one second of that glorious movie.

“You know- the Winter Soldier is kinda hot. So determined and dominant.” You slurred when you saw him walk down that car after he jumped from the bridge.

“You think so? You like to be dominated? Controlled? Called names? Maybe tied up and used?” he growled into your ear.

“Fuck.” you whimpered and clenched your thighs.

“You like the thought of that don’t you?” he bit into your earlobe.

You nodded furiously.

“Use your words babygirl.”

“Yes, sir.” you said.

“So, an authority kink is there too. And here I thought you were so innocent.” he pushed.

“How can you be innocent when you read fanfiction almost every day?” you quipped.

“Fanfiction, huh? Can you show me examples so I can paint myself a picture?” he asked.

You took your phone out and opened Tumblr. Then you searched for your favorite Bucky fanfic with all the kinks you enjoyed and handed the phone to him.

He read with interest and you studied his facial expressions, smirking when you saw reactions to certain parts you had expected to come.

“So that’s the kind of naughty literature you enjoy alone in your bed, touching yourself maybe.” he growled.

“Yes, sir. The imagination of what you could do to me makes me so wet.” you bit your lip seductively.

Suddenly you were in a flow. All the insecurities about your body and weight were gone. Only him and your sexual fantasies existed in the moment.

“Fuck baby.” he moaned and grabbed your hand to push it onto his growing bulge. “Feel what you do to me, doll?”

“So hot.” you moaned back and felt the urge to take charge. So you got onto your knees and sat in his lap grinding down on him.

Before anything could go further he stopped you and whispered “if at any point you want to stop or feel uncomfortable or I’m doing something you are not ready for or don’t like, tell me and we will stop immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sebastian. I understand. Thanks.”

And so it continued. Grinding and kissing. Until he suddenly stood up abruptly holding you close. “I’m not taking your virginity on this couch. Where is your bedroom?”

He was so considerate “upstairs and then the last door on the right.”

He carried you to the room, carefully laying you down on the bed so as to not disturb your injured foot.

When he unbuttoned the button down he was wearing and took it off you were already drooling.

“Let me undress you, darling. Turn around so I can unzip your dress. Which is beautiful by the way.” he suggested and winked.

You did as he told you and soon felt your dress falling off your shoulders. He helped you pull it over your head and left you in your bra, chub rub shorts and panties.

A little embarrassed at the shorts you looked to the side. But you couldn’t go out in a dress without wearing any type of pants underneath.

“You are so sexy, baby.” he did everything to make you feel comfortable and you started to believe him.

“May I?” he motioned for your bra and you nodded your consent.

Next he took off his jeans and the realization of what was to come started to seep into your mind.

“You still okay with this?” he made sure.

“Yes. I want this Sebastian. I really do. I trust you” you assured him.

So he proceeded with the rest of your clothes and lastly his boxer shorts.

The whole time he kept kissing you hungrily. When he crawled on top of you and you had that skin on skin contact you had never felt so safe with anyone before.

“I gotta prep you before we go all the way, alright? Don’t wanna hurt you, doll.” he whispered between kisses.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

“Please.” you begged.

That’s when he scooted down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. The next thing you felt was him placing a kiss on your mound, and then his tongue poking out starting to flick your clit. He pushed your legs further apart to gain better access.

“Fuck, feels so good.” you moaned just when he inserted one finger into your tight pussy. “Oh, my gosh. Don’t stop.” you begged him.

“I won’t” he mumbled and kept attacking your clit.

“‘m so close.”

“Come for me baby. Come now.” That command was the last straw which brought you to orgasm.

Breathlessly you smiled down at him and he smiled right back at you.

“You up for more?” he needed the confirmation that you were alright.

“Yes, sir. Now I don’t know why I have never done this before. I don’t ever want you to stop again.” At that statement he laughed heartily.

“Then let’s start, shall we?” he kept kissing over your belly, up to your breasts, licked your nipples and sucked hickies onto your neck.

“Ready?”

“Can you just fuck me already?” you asked annoyed.

“Someones being needy.” he joked and finally penetrated your pussy.

“Oh, fuck. So big. Hmmm. deep. Shit.” you were already reduced to a mumbling mess.

“Such a tight fit. You feel amazing.” he buried his head into your neck.

And then he started to move. Slowly at first but picked up speed rapidly. He hit spots inside you that your favorite vibrator was never able to get.

End then something you never wanted anyone to hear slipped your mouth “Fuck, daddy. Harderr!” and suddenly he stopped completely and you mewled disappointed until you realized what you had said. You opened your eyes to see his reaction.

You expected him to be disgusted but all you could see was a hunger. He looked like a predator who finally caught his prey.

“Say that again!” he growled. That statement of his made a surge of pride and confidence rush through you.

You bit your lip mischievously and said “Please, daddy. Fuck me harder.” and he immediately snapped.

He pistoned his hips forward, hitting your cervix over and over until you were so desperately close.

“You’re about to come, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing me, doll. Alright I’m gonna count down and I want you to come with me. Understood”

“Yes, daddy please… need to come… so bad.”

“Five..” deep thrust. “Four…” nip to the collarbone. “Three…” you clawed at his back. “Two…” you tried your hardest not to come and closed your eyes. “Look at me babygirl..” so you opened your eyes. “One… Come” and the dam broke. You had never come so hard in your life. No toy could ever make you feel the way this man did. Your quivering cunt made him come so hard. When he rolled off you he was breathing just as heavy as you were. The only noise you heard was your rapid heartbeat and blood rushing in your ears.

“That was amazing. We definitely need to do that again” you said.

“Oh yes. Anytime.”

The next week flew by so quickly and you two spent most of it in bed. You decided that your lives needed to be lived together so the next chance you got you would be moving in with him. Sometimes dreams do come true!

#marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #buckybarnes #reader insert #smut #fluff #fanfic

[voidaus]

Final Goodbyes

Summary: Your a Youtuber and in a stream you see this pen-pal app and download it, creating an account. This all happened months ago. The guy you met on there was amazing, and you talked for months until he just... stopped.

Genre: Angst?

warnings: swearing, fighting

Requested? No

Word count: 1402

I believe everyone deserves a second chance. No matter how difficult things are. No matter how ugly things got. But maybe sometimes, the problem is that I believe too much. Seeing good in every person, while of course, some people are just... not good.

But that's not how this story goes. No, he is good. I am a hundred percent sure of that. The question is, 'is he willing to change and show that side of him?'. I guess we won't find out if I don't reach out to him huh?

The grey laptop is on my couch, still warm from the last time I used it just an hour ago. Grabbing myself some hot chocolate I lay down on the soft pillows and pull my blanket up to my chest. Whilst finally deciding I'm comfortable in this position I grab the laptop again and open it, typing in my password. The device starts up, letting me in.

"miaow" a soft purring comes from the ground. My cat, Athena, jumps on the couch as soon as I pat it. "Hey there gorgeous" I greet her. The laptop dings, making it clear that it's ready to be used. I give it my full attention again. Should I really open Zaira?

Zaira is an online penpal app where you can anonymously make friends. I signed up about 2 years ago and never really managed to find someone I really hit it off with. You know, I just couldn't find the words to talk to any of the people who messaged me. My anxiety not really helping with making friends, of course, I thought meeting them online would be easier. I was wrong. 

No one understood me, which isn't really surprising. I'm a bookworm, but also a gamer. I have lots of hobbies but not quite the energy to pursue them. The only thing that still has me uploading videos and streaming is the money and my supporters. My supporters standing first on the list, of course. I upload mostly gaming videos under the name Void. I go faceless. I never really liked my appearance for that matter.

I hesitate but still open it. The familiar logo greets me and only a moment after that my only friend on the site shows up, bringing back memories.

Zaira? What's this? "An online penpal app where you can add strangers and make friends. Now free in the AppStore!" I read the description out loud for my viewers. "Should I download it guys?" I ask the live chat, hoping they would say yes. Soon enough I get the confirmation from them and I click the button, hoping it won't take too long to download. I create a profile typing in my bio: 'Bookworm, Gamer, Weeb :)' The chat confirms that that pretty much describes me making me laugh. "Perhaps we can actually meet some cool people on here guys! Who knows?""Alright." I scroll through the site, reading people's bios until one of them spots the fans' eyes. The comments are going crazy fast right now. "click them!""omg Void, you have to message Sasori!" and more comments like that. I click on the profile, reading it's bio. Their given name is Sasori Matsudo. I laugh, explaining to some of the viewers that don't watch anime that these are names from Naruto and Death Note. "I suggest you watch them. those are some good animes!".

I smile at the memories and click on his profile. "Sasori Matsudo" the name rolls off my tongue. I chuckle "not a weeb huh?" Slowly looking through the messages, the familiar empty feeling enters my body again. To be honest, it never left. Ever since the fight, it was always there, following my every step. I close my eyes, letting the painful memories flood in again.

"I just don't understand why you can't talk about it with me!" your voice is slightly raised as you hold the phone in your shaking hand. "Because I just can't, okay! I can't keep throwing all of my shit onto you. you know I could never do that!" The man you know as Corpse yells back. You're both stressed out and upset, and this is the worst fight you ever had. You had decided to message 'Sasori Matsudo' on Zaira, and you two grew close very quickly. After 4 months of chatting on the site, he gave you his number. Not long after, he told you That he's the famous Youtuber known as Corpse Husband. You began to watch his videos and enjoyed them a lot, telling him so. In the fifth month of you two knowing each other, You started to call each other once in a while. That turned into calling every day, and soon you were calling more than 4 hours a day.

Your voice softens at his upset tone, realizing you're not the only one hurt here. You give a deep sigh before talking into your phone again. "I'm always here for you Corpse. I don't care how many times you call me, even if it's in the middle of the night. You make me feel better, you make me happy, and I want to be there for you. Please don't shut me out like this." you're practically begging at this point. He can't shut you out! Not like this.

"Void... You know I love you. Please, keep doing what you're doing, keep making videos and baking, and all the little things I love about you. But I just can't continue doing this to you. I'm sorry." He speaks up. The low voice you adore so much is soft and trembling. He sounds like he could break down crying any time now. "No, please, Corpse! Please don't leav-"

your phone lets out a long beep cutting you off. Breaking down crying, you hurl your hand against your mouth, attempting to silence your sobs. On the other side of the line, the man with the curly black mop on his head is doing the same. Tears flow down both of your eyes as void fills your hearts.

It hurts, but he knows he had to do this. He was always troubling you with his feelings, and he couldn't even show you his face! What kind of friend is that? Loud sobs take over his apartment, as his heart hurts, knowing he can't talk to you again.

And he didn't.

You lay on the couch, clenching your blanket awfully hard. You don't notice the tears streaming down your face till Athena climbs onto your lap and licks them off. You cuddle her in an attempt to comfort yourself, as the dark feeling in your chest grows stronger. 

You open a new tab and type in his number. All the old messages show up. He probably blocked you, but you have to try. He wanted you to be happy, but then why did he leave you?!

After that night, he never messaged you again. Did he really not want to talk to you anymore? You ask yourself.

But all Corpse has been doing is lay in bed and upload videos once in a while. His followers noticed something is off, and so has his friends. He's acting off whenever he streams and rarely jokes around anymore. 

You text him a simple 'how are you' and close your laptop after. The next day you check if he's replied. Nothing. You keep checking for two weeks, but nothing comes in. It's over. He's not coming back. You begin sobbing and lift yourself from the couch, scaring a sleeping Athena. You jog to the kitchen and shove everything off the counter, breaking some cups and plates in the process. Sliding down against the sink, you put your face in your hands, letting out an ear-piercing scream. The weight of the world is crashing down on you, and all you can do is cry and scream. The daydream is finally over.

Corpse saw your message.  He's tried messaging you so many times, but each time he holds himself back. All he wants is to talk to you, but he knows he shouldn't. Well, that's what he believes is best. Every day he thinks about you, thinking that you have already forgotten him, though it's the opposite. You think about him every day, remembering all of the memories. 

All the laughs and all the cries. All the comforts, to final goodbyes.

Hey Guys! I hope you're okay after this lil angsty piece of crap lmao. I tried my best. Anyways, if you have any comments or feedback, I always appreciate it! Oh, and 200 notes on 'Grocery Shopping'?!!??? Y'all are crazy, thank you so much!

If you liked this, my taglist is always open and so are my requests!

@persephone-sideblog @reinyrei @cherry-piee @alienvarmint @divine-artemis @milanienne

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse fic #corpse imagines #corpse #x reader #Y/N #imagine #corpse husband imagine #angst #corpse angst #softboiicorpse

[omniswords]

chronicles of a parisian dumbass 19

i’m sorry i’ve been MIA ; ; i’ve been up to my ears in streaming and also returning to work in-person. either way, i hope you enjoy this update of chronicles. better late than never right?

strap in 💙💖

If Luka could get at his phone, he wouldn’t know what to type. maybe a vague, oh, fuck. Maybe some long thread about how cryptic conversation starters only ever scared him and ended both of his relationships—only to follow up with silence in the face of a couple of likes, or a reply from a sort-of-stranger that would debilitate him, remind him of his own vulnerability, more than it would reassure him. Hell, maybe even a message to Bubbles about how he was right all along that he’d need the luck. Or how Bubbles was right about how he really was in for it the moment he stepped into the bakery.

It’s just that, with the way Marinette Dupain-Cheng is looking at him on her balcony—all sad, scared softness—he gets the feeling that he’s not meant to repeat whatever she tells him.

Luka steels himself, loosens his death grip on the neck of the guitar, and releases a breath he doesn’t want to hold onto anymore. “Yeah,” he says. “Anything.” It comes out choked from how tight his vocal cords are. The way they get sometimes when he plugs in the microphone and hits RECORD.

She pats the floor in front of her and mumbles something about being on equal ground, and he slides down to meet her, guitar in tow. She looks like she wants to touch it, feel now real it is. Or how real he is. As though that moment with his card wasn’t enough.

“It’s about your sister,” she says, her gaze darting away in shame. “And Adrien. Sort of.”

“Okay,” he says. It’s slow, and uncertain, but he hopes it tells her he’s all ears.

Marinette looks at her lap and draws herself up and in. Like she’s wanted to tell him this for a long time. Like she’s only just found the words for it. “We were pretty close,” she says. “In grade school. Not as close as… Rose, yeah, Rose. But we were in the same class for a couple years. I helped her with some class picture stuff, she listened to me yammer on about Adrien after he joined our class… even helped me come up with some ideas on how to… confess to him? Win him over? I don’t know.” She rubs the back of her neck. “Actually, I think all my girl friends did that.”

Luka nods slowly, thinks of the school photos in the album Juleka bought from the thrift shop, tries to match faces in his head. He thinks he sees pigtails. Or maybe a bun. He could be wrong. “So,” he says, “you had it pretty bad for him, huh.”

“I dunno if I had it bad. Like I said, puppy love. I mean, I thought we were soulmates—God, I even named our kids—and I couldn’t even get out a sentence in front of him. I didn’t even like him at first. Plus, we were like, fourteen. I didn’t know any better.”

He shrugs. “Just cause you were fourteen doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.” He thinks he catches a blush stealing across Marinette’s face then, but maybe it’s just a trick of the lights. “So… what changed?”

“With Juleka? Or Adrien?”

“Both, I guess.”

Marinette turns her head away. “It’s dumb.”

Luka shrugs again, smiling faintly. “So?”

She starts to pick at her nails, like her hands are just looking for something to do. Without thinking, he gives the spinner ring on his index finger a flick to get her attention, then slides it off and hands it to her. She looks at it with questions in her eyes, then slips it on. It barely fits her index finger, and it wobbles when she gives it a curious flick of her own. It seems to get the job done, at least. “He lent me his umbrella,” she mumbles, final but sheepish. Then she follows up, before his brow can so much as furrow, “He was friends with an old bully of mine—Mrs. Bourgeois’s daughter, actually—and I caught him doing something with some gum on my chair. And I… misjudged him. “Another flick. “He was trying to make it up to me. And he said… he didn’t have any friends. He hadn’t even been to school.”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “Rich kids, huh?” And then, at the first sign of her discomfort, “Sorry, I—”

“No,” she says. “It’s okay, I was just thinking…” She presses her thumb into the curve and the aged grooves of the ring more than she actually spins it. Like she cares about losing it more than she cares about comforting herself. “I think everything around me told me that… that was how I was supposed to feel. Unwavering love. Now it’s been years, and I think… I think I just wanted to be that friend for him. I just wanted to be what he was looking for.”

Luka lifts his gaze from the ring to her face. “Who says that’s not love?” He doesn’t know where the words come from. They just feel like the right ones to say.

Marinette freezes, blinking at her hands. She doesn’t say anything; the only sound is the whine of his ring as the metal scrapes together with another flick.

When the silence goes on a bit too long for either of their liking, Luka clears his throat uncertainly. “So, um…”

She speaks so he doesn’t have to. “Juleka,” she murmurs. “Right, um…” It’s hard to tell who’s more uncomfortable between the two of them. Who's really supposed to say what next. “Well, I mean… you can sort of imagine that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to… y’know. Be with Adrien.”

Luka doesn’t have to imagine, but he nods anyway.

“Not”— Marinette hedges—“not that Juleka was competition or anything. I mean, duh. Just… there was this other girl—there were other girls, and…”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” he urges. “If it still hurts.”

She closes her eyes. Hard, and just for a moment. “Please let me tell you this.”

Her voice wavers. That’s all the cue Luka needs to stay quiet. To let her say everything, or nothing, at her pace.

“Her name was Lila,” she says. “She was a new girl. From Italy. Everyone liked her, except… she lied. Like, compulsively. About connections she had, places she’d been, charity work she did. And she did it because she wanted everyone to like her. She was just telling people what they wanted to hear because the attention made her feel important. She thrived on it.” She gets to her feet. “Sorry, I can’t sit still when I get all… agitated. You know?”

Luka gestures vaguely at the balcony space. “That makes two of us.”

Marinette takes that as her cue to start pacing and turning on her heels, only pausing every so often to stare up at the night sky. “I was jealous,” she admits. “I was also our class representative. And I might’ve… used that to my advantage.”

Maybe he shouldn’t say Hell yeah out loud, but he’s definitely thinking it.

“I kept tabs on people’s schedules, you know?” she says. “So we could work on important events and class projects and stuff. There was one we were planning for Adrien, to celebrate that he’d been in school with us for a year and all. And it just so happened that…” she shrugs, feigning apology. “All the days that worked conflicted with all her charity work.”

Luka whistles, half-impressed. “This the part where you tell me she decided to make your life a living hell like some high school drama villain?”

Marinette’s face falls. “Yeah,” she says, and her voice cracks, and he wishes he weren’t right. “But all she did was exactly what I did. Convinced… everybody… that every little thing I did was proof that I wasn’t a real friend. That I couldn't commit to anything because I committed to everything. And especially with how I avoided her… didn’t trust her, treated her cruelly. she turned everyone against me, a little at a time. Even Alya.” She shifts her weight. “Even Juleka.”

Luka’s heart sinks. He almost wants to reach for her hands when she paces toward him. Almost wants to kick himself for asking, “And… then what?”

She lingers at the balcony railing, perhaps preferring to tell the night sky the rest. “She got me expelled.”

Luka tenses.

Marinette doesn’t notice. “I’d been telling myself for months that I deserved it. Eventually I just… believed it. Let it happen. Never talked to my classmates again.” She shrugs. “I cried a lot. Transferred schools. Threw myself into… everything. Because if Lila said that was what I was doing—just over-committing—I might as well own it. And because if I was constantly doing something, then I couldn’t stop to think about all the bad things I deserved. And I couldn’t be paranoid about being judged for every little thing I did.”

“What…” He’s trying, with every fiber in him, to keep his heart from breaking for her. To keep himself from blurting out how well he knows the feeling. “What about Alya? And Adrien, and, uh… Mrs. Bourgeois’s kid?”

Marinette turns to face him, leaning back against the railing, and something in her face—no, everything—changes. There’s a tiredness in her eyes, a twitch in her hands. Lines in her face that shouldn’t be there for decades. As though she’s just lived them all over again. “I didn’t talk to Alya for over a year. I couldn’t be friends with her. I couldn’t even talk to her.” Her gaze lowers. “It was really hard on Nino.”

“Nino?”

“Our friend. well. My friend. Her boyfriend. He’s the one I’ve been helping for that summer project.” She folds her arms tight. “He apologized first. If it weren’t for him, Alya and I still wouldn’t be talking. And Chloé, well… Mrs. Bourgeois’s recommendation letter had nothing to do with her. I entered some contests with my portfolio and won a couple of them.” She flicks her gaze back. “I did run into Chloé once. In New York. I guess she decided to live with her mom for a while. She kind of took the ‘enemy of my enemy is my ally’ approach. Which was… weird. But tolerable.”

Luka searches her face, even at a distance, and settles on the end of the deck chair again. “What about Adrien?”

The pause that follows is heavy. He can’t tell who feels the weight of it more; he just hopes it’s equal. Marinette scrunches up her lips, braces herself on the railing, and all those decades come back. “Well,” she murmurs. “I guess you don’t really realize what you have until it’s gone, huh.”

He sobers. “He felt guilty.”

“I guess we all did.” She scuffs her heel. “I guess we all do.”

Luka waits. There must be more she wants to say.

There is. She even starts pacing again. “My guidance counselor used to tell me that all that’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. It was supposed to be comforting.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It doesn’t sound very comforting.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” she says, “He reminded me they were still good people, and good people could do bad things, and even if they were still good, it was okay for me to not want those people in my life anymore. I dunno.” She rocks on her feet. “Maybe someone told Adrien the same thing and he couldn’t stand doing nothing anymore.”

“Did you want him?” he asks. “In your life? Do you still?”

She heaves a laugh like it’s hard to do. “Would you think it was messed up if I said yes?”

“No, of course not.”

“He could see it,” she says. “What Lila was doing. That was why he felt so bad. That was why he convinced her to clear my name. Turns out he knows how to use things to his advantage, too.”

Luka softens and runs his fingers over the body of his guitar. “He must love you a lot,” he says, “if he was willing to do all that for you.”

At first, Marinette doesn’t say anything, only grips the railing tighter. He can see it, how her knuckles go white, as though there’s something she’s trying to forget. Then she murmurs, “She tried to talk to me. Juleka did. To… apologize… I ghosted her. I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. For a while, I didn’t want to deal with anything anymore. I don’t want you to think it didn’t hurt me, because it did. It did hurt.”

Luka’s stomach turns. He puts his guitar down. “That’s why you’ve been so nice to me, huh…” There’s a lump in his throat that he tries to swallow; he only partly succeeds. “You felt guilty about avoiding her and just… wanted to make it up to her.”

Something flashes across Marinette’s face. Horror, maybe. Or shame. “No, I—that’s not what I—”

“I’m not upset.” He’s not. He’s staring at the floor with a pit in his stomach and a shake in his limbs, and his knee is starting to throb again in protest, but he’s not upset. “Really. I get it. If that’s what you needed for your own closure, then…”

A ragged breath and a sniffle cut him off, and he’s barely able to lift his gaze before Marinette kneels in front of him, placing his ring in his palm and closing his fingers around it. He can’t revel in the touch—won’t let himself—because her hands are cold. Trembling. “Don’t go,” she whispers, squeezing his hand tight, and when he looks up there are tears staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t even be asking this of you, just… please, don’t go.”

Luka learned, a long time ago, to look for the things unsaid. when I can’t make it really meant I’m trying to avoid you. when you’re certainly different really meant God, you are a level of fucked-up I can’t put into words. When we need to talk really meant it's over.

He hears, “Please don’t go,” and he thinks he finds, I want you in my life. Don’t you want me in yours?

Or, maybe, I need you.

Or maybe it’s as simple, as desperate, as, Not you, too.

He’s known Juleka, and maybe even himself, long enough to know what that sounds like in other people.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Hey, I’m not going.”

Marinette freezes, still staring at their hands. “Why? You have every reason to.”

“Because I’m not.”

“You’ve known me for like, two months, as what? A baker’s daughter? Overly nice customer service? Someone who just gave you kindness out of some dumb high school guilt?”

“I’m not going,” Luka says again.

“You should.” Marinette rubs her eyes dry. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.” He coaxes his hand open, slides the ring back onto her finger. “Isn’t that enough?”

Marinette studies the ring, giving it a cautious flick. As though touching it might break it altogether. “It’s too big.”

“Then I’ll trade you.” Luka takes the ring back, digs around in his pocket, and fishes out a couple of guitar picks. “Here. Take one.”

One of them has a picture of Jagged Stone’s face. The other has a Kitty Section logo, crudely painted on with some of Juleka’s old nail polish. Marinette takes the first one almost instantly with another sniffle, examining it from all sides. “He’s… my favorite.”

“Yeah.” Luka smiles, not minding that she can’t see it, and thinks of the album cover. “Mine, too.”

She runs her thumb over the faces and edges, blinking away whatever tears threaten to stick around. “Why?” she asks again.

“To prove it.” He tilts his head. “To prove I’m not going.”

She turns the pick this way and that, but doesn’t put it away just yet. Instead, her eyes drift toward his guitar and the amp, and then up to him. “Hey,” she says. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“I know,” he tells her. “I won’t tell Jules about any of this. And I won’t make you talk to her if you don’t want to.” And I’ll stay. I swear to God I’ll stay.

“Not that.” Marinette presses her lips together, still sitting on her knees. Still holding on to the pick for dear life. “Can you play it again?”

“What, the song from your playlist?”

“Me.” She looks away, her cheeks flushed and blotchy. “Can you play me. Again.”

Luka’s heart picks up, so loud he can barely hear anything else. Even her. “Yeah,” he says, setting his guitar in his lap, “Yeah, I think I got it this time.”

i guess it’s eleven now.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #ah.............. emotions.

[fruityutas]

𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢!𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥

!𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦!

𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯, 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘚𝘛

𝘸𝘤: 1.798𝘬

𝘱.3/?

𝘱.2 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯?

✰ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴

𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘓𝘔𝘈𝘖

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @xu-miseo

“i’m going to pound you into this bed until you’re screaming my name, princess, until everyone in this house knows it’s me making you feel good”

taeyong didn’t lie when he uttered those words to you. he fucked you until you were sobbing from pleasure. when he calmed down, he got up to clean the both of you. you laid still in the bed, drifting into a peaceful sleep. taeyong laid a gentle kiss on your forehead and left the room.

when he got downstairs, johnny and jaehyun burst into laughter. “have fun, yongie?” johnny sniggers at jaehyun making fun of the name you had been mewling out for the past hour. taeyong rolls his eyes at the younger man and shuffles past him.

“don’t make fun of me at least i get a woman to fuck.” johnny loses it at that point, attracting mark and donghyuck into the kitchen. “don’t even ask, you two. we have another assignment, but i think i might allow chenle and jisung tag along just to get experience.” mark nods. taeyong can’t help but think about what you would say to that. would you be mad that he’s letting them go? he finds himself hoping that you wouldn’t be angry at him. he shakes these thoughts. you were just an accessory to him, he can’t fall in love, it just can’t work with his lifestyle. he heads back up to his bedroom and hears the shower running. you must have woken up in the time he was getting a drink. “y/n? are you ok?” taeyong opens the bathroom door and hears you reply with a yes.

“why don’t you join me? you must be tired, yongie” he strips himself of his clothes and climbs in beside you.

“you already want more?” he mutters between kisses down your neck. you giggle and swat him lightly.

“no, silly. i just thought you’d want a shower since you did most of the work.” his chest heats up and he becomes flustered. no one had ever cared for him like this, not even his parents. they always acted cold toward him and used the excuse of turning him into ‘the perfect mafia man’. you circle around to face him and start to wash his hair. taeyong’s eyes flutter shut and he melts into your gentle touch. you press butterfly-light kisses to his chest and encase him in your arms. for the first time, taeyong didn’t have a plan. he felt loved.

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

as the weeks passed, taeyong started to let you sleep in his room. for the first few days, he fucked you until your legs were shaking, but the past week, he had been a lot gentler. it was as if he was making love to you instead of having sex. the thought made you hope that he would eventually let you accompany him outside the house. “yongie, do you think i could come with you today?” your sweet voice penetrated his ears. without turning around, he declined. “but why?” he huffed before facing you.

“because, i’m going on an assignment today, not a date.”

“oh. i’m sorry” your pretty face had fallen into a sullen look, and he felt guilt creeping in.

“angel, i’ll take you shopping tomorrow, ok?” you face lit up at his statement and you nod enthusiastically. he smiles and leaves you alone. you wait until you hear him gather some members going along with him and the garage door close to leave the room. you walk down the hallway as quiet as you can. near the end of the hall, you hear voices in a room. you recognize them as johnny and jaehyun. you lean closer to hear better.

“you think she knows?” johnny speaks.

“if she does she sure doesn’t care.”

“i don’t think she does. she seems like someone who would want more than that.”

“you and i both know taeyong isn’t capable of being a boyfriend, all he can do is keep her around to fuck.” johnny laughs at jaehyun’s bluntness. your eyes fill with tears at those words. was taeyong really only keeping you to be a body to have sex with? the sex felt genuine when you thought of it, but who’s to say taeyong isn’t a good faker? he is in the mafia after all. you leave the hall and walk to the kitchen. mark and donghyuck were in there bickering. you brush past them to the fridge.

“hey, y/n you ok?” mark’s question stills you. the waterworks start and in mere seconds you’re sobbing and muttering incoherent words to them. “hey hey what’s wrong?” you take deep breaths until you can calm down enough to talk.

“does taeyong only keep me around because he wants to have someone to fuck?” the question stuns them and they glance at each other for a second.

“i’m not sure what to sa-” “cut the shit, mark. it’s the truth and you know it.” mark swallows and avoids your eyes.

“look at me, mark. is he telling the truth?” he shakily nods. you hum before storming out of the kitchen. they call after you to no avail. you stomp all the way to the room where johnny and jaehyun were talking. you slam open the door and surprise them.

“are you ok y/n-” “where the fuck is taeyong. i need to speak to him.”

“he’s out on an assignment can this wait until-” “no. get him on the phone. now.” you had never spoken to anyone like this so they both scramble for the phone and dial taeyong.

ring, ring, ring

“what do you need jaehyun i’m in the middle of something r-” “y/n needs to speak with you.”

“about what? this can surely wait.” jaehyun glances back to you, and you look deadly calm.

“i think for my own safety it can’t.” he hands you the phone.

“so when were you going to tell me?”

“tell you what?”

“that i’m only a body to keep you entertained?” silence.

“y/n can this please wait until i get back?”

“no, taeyong. it fucking can’t. you wanna know why? because i’m not going to SIT here and be treated like a CHEAP WHORE THAT YOU CAN FUCK WHENEVER YOU WANT. I TRUSTED YOU. I GAVE MYSELF TO YOU, TAEYONG. I’M NOT JUST AN EMPTY BODY, I HAVE FEELINGS.” the tears were pouring down your face and both men in the room with you avoided your gaze. the other line stayed silent. “you know what, taeyong? fuck you.” you hung up the phone and threw it at the wall. neither jaehyun or johnny said anything. you walk out of the room, slamming the door behind you. you know the entire house just heard all of that, but you could care less. taeyong had betrayed you. when he got and the others got back, the house was silent. taeyong made his way to his room. you were laying on the bed as if you were waiting for him.

“y/n.” you remain quiet. he huffs and comes closer. he reaches out to move a hair from your face, but you swat his hand away.

“you can sleep somewhere else tonight, and for a while after that too.” you don’t even make eye contact with him as you say this.

“you can’t kick me out of my own room.” he stands there waiting for a response but is fed nothing. he sighs and walks to take a pillow off the bed. he looks at you again before leaving the room. you lock the door behind him so he can’t try any games and go to bed.

the morning light flows through the curtains. you check the clock on the table, it’s 8:17 am. you hear ruckus coming from the kitchen and decide to get breakfast. when you get down there, johnny, mark, doyoung, and taeyong are all in there.

“good morning, y/n.” doyoung sets a plate of food infront of you.

“good morning, doyoung.” you pick up a fork and start to eat. johnny joins the table beside you, while doyoung occupies the other side of you. he leans over and whispers in your ear, “i heard about what happened. to be honest, i didn’t know he was using you like that. you can always come to me to talk, ok?” you smile and nod at him. johnny turns to say something to you.

“how did you sleep?” you don’t acknowledge him and continue eating. he frowns and shrugs. after you finish your food, you put the plate in the sink and try to walk past taeyong, but he stops you.

“y/n, go get dressed i’m taking you shopping.” you roll your eyes and shove past him. He follows you into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. “y/n, i know i’ve been a shitty person but can i please make it up to you? at least let me try.”

“fine. but this is the only chance you get to redeem yourself.” he smiles brightly and gives you a hug. you return it and tell him to get out so you can get dressed. you pick out your outfit and decide to peek around taeyong’s room while you’re alone. you go through his drawers, even though you know you shouldn’t. there’s not a lot to see, really. it’s mostly socks and underwear, until you get to his bedside table. it doesn’t seem off to the normal eye, but taeyong had been training you to notice details in everything. to a normal person, they’d see the snacks he keeps, his phone charger, a few bandaids, a pair of winter gloves, and the box of condoms. but you know better, these items are placed too perfectly. not in a organized way, but a staged way. you shuffle the items around with your hands and voila, under the gloves is a small pull tab. you lift the fake bottom up and under it is a journal and pen. you know better than to snoop, but you just can’t help to want to look at what taeyong could’ve written about.

the leather is soft and worn, and the journal is closed with strips of the leather. you stand silent and listen for a moment, making sure no one was coming. gently, you unravel the strips and open the book. the first page bears only the initials l.ty with a small heart. you flip through the next few pages, getting glimpses of entries and dates. the newest page is dated four days ago, and was shorter than the others. you only read the last line, and it shocked you so much you gasped.

‘i’m falling in love with y/n and i don’t want to stop it.’

#neowritingsnet #nshitty frathouse #unfortunatus: purgatorio #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #nct taeyong x reader

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Love in True Form II

Warnings: Non-con, dub-con, A/B/O, loss of virginity, breeding kink, lactation kink, multiple pregnancies, multiple children, birth, maybe more, 18+

Word Count: 2,720

Pairings: Dark Alpha! Steve Rogers / Omega! Reader, Dark Alpha! Bucky Barnes / Omega! Reader

Summary: Reader moves to the country side to live a slower life she’s not used to after living all her life in the city. She meets two men who can’t seem to get out of her life, and she sees them everywhere. What happens when their instincts get the better of them?

Chapter summary: Reader starts to settle in and has her first meeting with a new client. 

- indicates POV change

~ indicates a time change

A/N: WOW this is completely overdue. Hope everyone enjoys, my masterlist should be working soon. ALSO the POV will stay first person, so sorry if you’re not into that. I’m trying to interoperate different writing styles, and I have plenty of other fics in 2nd person (3rd person will be next at some point in another fic) 

xxx

When I got home, I was still a little shaken from the two guys I had encountered. Their crystal blue eyes made me feel unsettled, yet I couldn’t shake the familiarity I got from them. Had I met them before? Were they there when I was scoping out this place a few months ago? Questions racked my brain, but it was impossible. The only person I had met was my real estate agent. Nobody had been around for miles, and today was the first day I had traveled into town. 

I decided not to think about it any longer due to the countless emails from patients trying to set up virtual appointments. I opened them up and started working my way through each person, delicately reading and responding appropriately with a time that worked for us both. 

-

Steve slammed down the supplies he had bought at the store into the shed. Bucky was inside working on the fire to keep them warm for the night. Steve’s body tingled as he remembered the omega they encountered, as he remembered her faint scent, saw her beautiful body. He felt his blue jeans get a bit tighter at the thought of having her as his own. It’s what they’ve been dreaming of for years, him and Bucky. 

Steve ventured back into the house to find Bucky pacing about with his hands behind his back. When Steve shut the door, Bucky turned to him, halting his pacing. 

“We have to find her.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, moving to the kitchen to start dinner. 

“She smelled magnificent, Stevie, I never thought I’d find someone. She was an omega. A real omega. They don’t exist anymore!”

Steve nodded along. He wasn’t ignoring his friend, quite the opposite actually. He was devising a plan to get their omega. He wasn’t sure how he would, but he wanted it to be as sweet as possible for her. But he also thought of possible reasons she was alive. It didn’t make any sense. Like Bucky said, omegas didn’t exist anymore. 

In their day, there were thousands of them. Steve was a beta then so he had no chance at them, but Bucky was always an alpha. From both of their understanding, omegas had died off while they were still in ice. The omegas had bred with alphas, nothing else was possible, but their offspring seemed to be only beta. Now, nobody really knew what alphas, betas, or omegas were; they were just humans. No special category to go into. 

“Steve?” Bucky was sweating at this point, the worrying for the omega was bringing his alpha out of him. He was looking at Steve with wide, blown out eyes. Steve smiled sweetly before clapping his hand over Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Buck, I know. Her scent hasn’t left me since we saw her in town, and I’d be lying if I said this all made sense. We’ll get her, though, don’t worry. I have a plan.” Bucky nodded his head and glanced at the ground as he put his weight on another foot. 

“When?” he asked impatiently yet gloomfully, meeting his eyes again.

Steve sighed and removed his hand. “We have to ease her into it, Buck. We can’t scare her or force anything, it’ll just make everything that follows way harder than it needs to be.”

Bucky nodded at Steve’s words. He knew what he said was true, but he needed his omega. Their omega. The thought of sharing an omega would typically never be an option for him, but with Steve it was different. 

Steve knew this girl had no idea what he or Bucky was. Hell, she didn’t even know what she was! She was going to be scared and reluctant, and she’d fight them until the end. They were going to have to shape her into an omega. No doubt she wasn’t taught properly how to be one, but Steve could be patient. He had waited this long, he could wait a little longer. 

Bucky switched from foot to foot one last time before retiring to the kitchen. Steve looked at his friend and shook his head. He had a feeling his Bucky wasn’t going to be as willing to wait as him. 

-

I was jerked from my dreams with a loud snore. I looked around and saw my small home completely dark, save for the little moonlight coming through my living room curtains. I sat up from my couch and grabbed the book that I had been reading, that had fallen to the floor, before making my way into the kitchen where my laptop sat. 

I pressed a few keys to wake up the monitor, and I looked at the time--when the screen lit up--to see it was half past 1. I scrolled to my email tab and saw a new email request from someone who wanted to set up an appointment. I clicked on the email and quickly typed in a response for a time to talk that suited us both. 

This Steve Rogers seemed nice. 

~

My hands ached as I planted the last cabbage plant into the ground. So far I had a garden of carrots, cabbage, broccoli, and celery. This new vegetarian diet was something I had never tried before, nor were these foods something I was particularly fond of, but I was more than willing to give it a try. 

I dusted my hands off and ventured inside the cabin to where my only two pieces of technology lay. I checked the time on my phone before setting it back down. I still had 15 more minutes before my online meeting with Steve started, so I walked to the fridge to cool down with water and have a break. 

I looked at my bookshelf and decided I needed more books. All I could fit in my car was about 30 books, but I had already read most of them. It wouldn’t take long to get through the rest, but thankfully Molly told me she had some I could have. I smiled to myself at the thought of being met with a bunch of planting books when going to retrieve the older woman’s stash. Not that I wouldn’t use them, though, Lord knows I certainly need to get better at this whole gardening thing. My hunger kinda depended on it. 

I was brought from my thoughts when my computer started ringing from the Skype app, causing me to frown at the screen. Who could that be? No patients were scheduled right now, and nobody else would want to call me; my family and few friends seemed to be shunning me on my choice to leave. Maybe they believed if they shunned me enough I’d come back to the city. I scoffed at that. Not a chance.

I pushed myself from the counter I was leaning on and walked to the screen to look at the ID. “Steven Rogers.” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at the clock at the bottom right hand corner of the screen. We still had 10 more minutes. Regardless, I reluctantly pressed “answer”; what else am I doing right now?

Skype connected us, but Steve’s screen was completely black. I checked my connection, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t hear anything, so I decided to wait a few more seconds for him to connect. His internet must be bad. 

“Steve?” I smiled at the dark screen, and hoped he could at least see me. Putting a face to a name and voice could really help someone who’s going through something; it can help them realize other people do care. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! Oh, erm- can you see me? Your screen is black, so I can’t see you.” It got silent for a second. 

“Oh, yeah I can see you. I don’t know why you can’t see me; I’m sorry it’s probably me. I’m not good at this technology stuff. I had a hard time turning on my mic, that’s why I was silent at first.” He gave a dry laugh.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay. I had a hard time getting used to this when I first started, too, so don’t worry! You’ll get used to it soon.” I smiled at the dark screen, I was glad Steve could see me. “I should apologize for my appearance, though, I was working in the garden.”

“Oh, you look lovely, don’t worry.”

I blushed at his compliment and reached for the bag leaning against the table’s leg. Inside was a notebook that contained details about my patients. I didn’t like discussing much over email or text--I liked talking about it face to face, or face to black screen in this case-- so that’s why Steve’s section was mostly empty. All I knew was his name and that he lived about 10 miles from me. 

“Well, enough about me. What did you want to discuss today?”

~

Steve and I ended up talking about how he felt different from everyone else. He felt he couldn’t relate with everyone else and that he just felt alienated. I nodded the entire time he spoke, stealing glances at my notebook to take notes every few seconds. 

When he was done I asked him a few questions. Any reasons he may have as to why he felt this way, when did he start feeling like this? Was there any dramatic change in his life? He answered he used to feel normal, in his early years, but one day he just woke up and felt unable to relate to the people around him anymore. He even felt he lost family and friends. My heart broke in my chest as I jotted down more notes. That was something I could sort of relate to, I thought.

We talked about ways he could enter outside of his comfort zone, finding hobbies that others enjoyed in order to feel a bit more connected. Go to stores that, not many people shopped at, but enough to let him ease into a life that involved other people again.

I asked him if he had any social media. If he wasn’t comfortable with doing social things in person yet, there were plenty of groups to join online that incorporated fun activities and joined people together virtually. It could also be a good way to connect with lost connections and maybe make new ones. 

“Oh, no Doll, I can’t say I do. I’m not really into anything like that. I don’t even have a tv, and, as you can already see, have bad internet.” He chuckled again and I joined in a bit. 

“Oh yeah, I understand.” I had sworn off phones--except my cell that was stripped of everything except my contacts list-- and tvs, so I understood where Steve was coming from completely. “Well hey, no harm in that. Social media can be good, but in my opinion the best contact can be made face to face. No offense.” I laughed at the irony and Steve did, too. 

“Thank you, and I agree.”

I hummed in response and pulled out my calendar from my bag. I looked for a free spot next week, and saw an opening on Thursday at 3:45. 

“Alright, Steve, it’s been a pleasure speaking with you, but our time is up, sadly. I’d like to reschedule an appointment with you, if that’s okay, next week. How does Thursday at 3:45 sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great! Okay, remember what I said. I look forward to our next chat. Hopefully I can see you next time,” I added with a smile and a small giggle.

“Me too, talk to you soon, Doll.” There goes that nickname and my blush again.

“Bye!” The call ended and I made a few more notes in my notebook before closing it. My next appointment wasn’t for another hour, so I thought maybe I could go to town to get some stuff I couldn’t grow myself--or at all.  

As I went to shower and look presentable, I couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. He was a charmer, and for someone who felt disconnected was able to connect with me fast. I tried to destroy the barrier I tended to feel with patients that had been made. They sometimes saw me as a figure, but I wanted them to feel as if I were a friend they could confide in. I was there to help them, yes, but I didn’t see the need in them calling me Miss. My name would do just fine, or any other nickname they picked up along the way, but Steve chose “doll” fairly quickly. He even asked me a lot of questions. Where I lived before, where I lived now, where I went to college, things like that. We had a lot more in common than I thought we would, though, so maybe that’s why we just clicked better. Everyone moves at different speeds, and I needed to remember that.

-

Steve pushed the laptop further down the table, away from him. He had a giant smile on his face, and he couldn’t deny the hard on he was sporting from just hearing her voice. He couldn’t believe the tape and microphone trick had worked. He felt bad about lying, but he didn’t want to scare her off by seeing him. Plus, he needed to hear her voice and her breathing for a bit, just before he started speaking. 

When she introduced herself to him, it took him everything not to repeat it over and over like a love poem his mother used to read to him. He wanted to draw her in her “messy” state, her hair sticking up in wild places; some strands sticking to her forehead from sweat. He wondered if that’s what she’d look like under him.

He disappeared into his room and shut the door. Bucky went back into town after he found they had forgotten something at the store. Steve had a while before he got back, and he decided to take advantage of it. 

Steve laid down on the bed and shimmied out of his suddenly tight jeans. He gripped his member through his underwear and groaned at the feeling. He stroked his member over the fabric a few more times, teasing himself, before removing himself from his confides completely. Steve’s rock hard cock sprung out and hit his stomach, slightly bobbing. He sighed in frustration yet relief at the feeling. The tip was fiery red with precum oozing out from the slit. He spit into his hand before grabbing the base firmly. 

Steve stroked himself, slowly at first, up and down. He moaned and panted as his hand got him off, his mind on the woman and her sweet voice the entire time. How her boobs would look when they were released from the tight black shirt she had worn in the meeting. How she’d look begging for her alpha’s fat cock to plunge into your tiny cunt, milking him and bringing on his knot. How’d it feel to claim her and ceal you both in a bond. How she’d look carrying his pups, her tits leaking for milk he’d happily drink up. Steve took a break from working himself to tease his tip with his thumb, shuddering a bit before he pumped himself faster as his moans got louder and more desperate as his need to cum became greater and greater. He was whining the omega’s name like a chant as his other hand reached down to start playing with his balls. His hips were rising, fucking his fist harder and harder. He moaned a few more times before he felt the sweet swell of his cock as his knot grew. Spurts of cum flew from his pulsing member as he worked himself through his orgasm. He continued to roar and growl her name as he came down. 

When Steve was satisfied, he just stared at the ceiling, a smile still playing at his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cum that hard. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he was that hard! As he waited for his knot to subside, he started cleaning up his mess and headed into the shower. Bucky would be home any minute now, and he had to tell him everything that he had learned about you. 

xxx

#dark!fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers x omega! reader #alpha!bucky barnes #alpha!bucky barnes x omega! reader #dark!mcu #dark!marvel #dub con #non con

[r1ntaros]

falling // jeong yunho

SYNOPSIS: After experiencing countless messy break ups, Yunho can't seem to find himself to love and to be loved once again. Not until he met y/n who’s as broken as him. Sharing their stories, Yunho found out that they’re almost the same but their difference is Yunho can help himself be whole again after being shattered into pieces. But y/n? Well, maybe God has plans as to why they met each other.

PAIRING: Yunho x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SONG RECOMMENDATION: falling by harry styles

WARNINGS: mentions of drinking, cheating, cursing, verbal fighting, emotional breakdowns, toxic relationships, self doubts, unhealthy way of coping up with heartbreaks

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! This is my first work for the tag, hehe. I also have another work drafted but it's quite long so I decided to post a /shorter/ one first to test the waters since I'm too shy sharing my works because I know I'm not that great of a writer ssjdjsjk. Some character names are also made by me and doesn't exist in real life. I'm so sorry for grammatical errors as well! English is not my first language >.< Feedbacks are welcome and accepted, enjoy!

Masterlist

Silently sitting at the couch of a friend’s party, Yunho chugged down his 3rd bottle of beer for the night. Just today, his fourth girlfriend decided to break up with him through text, saying their usual “it’s not you, it’s me” line that he is tired of hearing.

As much as it’s supposed to sound reassuring, he can’t help but think that maybe there really is something wrong with him as a boyfriend. Does he not spare them enough time and attention? Does he spend way too much time with his friends? Does he always stay up late all the damn time, playing his god forsaken video games and occasionally forgetting to text his past significant others back unintentionally?

He really can’t answer his own questions but he knows.. he fucking knows that he’s nothing but a good, loyal boyfriend to those who he used to date. But why do they always leave him?

He felt someone nudged on his knee, cutting him off of his thoughts. Looking at that person, he saw Mingi with eyes full of concern. “Dude, we’ve been looking for you for the past five minutes already then I see you sitting on the couch, glaring at everyone. What’s wrong?”

San was the first one to notice their arrival and smiled the brightest smile he can muster while clapping his hands. He looks like he’s not yet drunk.

San was the first one to notice their arrival and smiled the brightest smile he can muster while clapping his hands. He looks like he’s not yet drunk.

San was the first one to notice their arrival and smiled the brightest smile he can muster while clapping his hands. He looks like he’s not yet drunk.

“There’s our Yunho!” He exclaimed which gained the others attention, some even greeting him with enthusiasm as they went back to playing. He silently sat beside Wooyoung who looked at him full of curiosity. Usually when they party, he’s one of those causing chaos but due to how he’s acting now, Wooyoung must’ve sensed that there’s something wrong.

He put his arm over Yunho’s shoulder and shook him slightly, “What’s bothering you, bud?”

That single, simple sentence seems to break all the emotions and questions that Yunho’s been keeping to himself as he felt his eyes get teary and he asked, “Is there something wrong with me?” 

The chaos surrounding him suddenly became calm as the rest of his friends circled him. No one spoke and the silence was unbearable until Hongjoong decided to break it.

“Yunho, what happened?”

He took a deep shaky breath, “Eunhae broke up with me.”

A scoff was heard and everyone looked at Yeosang, “See what I told you? This is what you get for not listening, Yunho.” He said as Yunho stared at him with a hardened expression.

Hongjoong, who’s trying to do damage control, decided to peel Yeosang away from their circle but the younger broke free, “Yeosang, now’s not the time–”

“Now’s not the time to what, Hongjoong?” Yeosang spit out with so much hatred, making Hongjoong look away. The younger man proceeds to walk and stand in front of Yunho, gripping both of his arms tightly, “Jeong Yunho, what did I tell you? She’s not good for you, she’s–”

“Gonna break your heart and leave you broken like the rest of them did. I know, Yeosang. I know.” Yunho cut him off, voice full of regret, “I should’ve listened to you.” He said, this time, with a small voice.

Yeosang just rolled his eyes and pulled Yunho in a hug with his head on his chest, steadied by the smaller’s hand. The action caught him off guard and all of a sudden, the only thing he could feel and hear is his sobs breaking free from his mouth, tears falling down from his eyes as his body trembles in brokenness.

The whole pool house was silent and the only thing that’s audible is the ongoing party happening outside. His friends let him cry until he’s too tired and broken to let anything out. Wiping his eyes, he giggled tiredly,  “I’m a fucking fool. I don’t want to love anymore. I just want to be loved the way I deserve.”

No one spoke but his friends’ hearts broke at what he said. Yunho is loved by everyone but he’s just too engrossed in giving away his heart to someone that he didn’t notice it.

Wooyoung removed the hair from his eyes and whispered, “Let’s get you home, buddy, so you can rest. You consumed enough alcohol.”

“I’m not fucking drunk, I want to drink more!” He tries to argue, making Seonghwa speak up, “You may not be drunk but you’re tired and have alcohol in your system. That’s not healthy. You know that drinking is not the healthiest way to cope up with heartbreak, Yunho.”

“Let me be!” He shouted as he tried to pry off Wooyoung’s grasp on him as he tried to stand up to get more alcohol.

“No I won’t let you be!” Seonghwa argued back, pushing him down to where he’s seated, the tension coming back again, “You’re broken enough and if you drink more you’ll be nothing but an unrepairable mess and I don’t want that. We don’t want that to happen.”

Sinking the older’s words in, Yunho has no choice but to agree. Seonghwa’s right, damn, he is always right. He decided to silently follow Wooyoung to his car and the drive back home was silent. No one spoke until they arrived at his condominium.

“Take care of yourself, Yunho.” Wooyoung said, “We care for you. We love you, always remember that. I know it’s tiring but we’re always here to help you be whole again.” After saying those words, he decided to drive away and go back to Jongho’s house.

Entering his apartment, he didn’t bother to turn on the lights and decided to do his night routine and lay down in his bed as he looked at the view of the city on his window, thinking about Wooyoung’s words. It helped bring a slight smile on his face as he decided to let himself slip off to dreamland.

—

The next day, Yunho decided to visit his favorite coffee shop to grab his usual favorite treats for the morning to start it well instead of moping around because he got his heart broken.

Arriving at the cafe, he was greeted by the Mrs. Kim, the lady who owns and baked the treats in this coffee shop, “Good morning sweetheart! Do you want the usual?” 

“Good morning Mrs. Kim! I think I’ll grab a hot chocolate instead of cold, this time.” He replied with a kind smile as he watched Mrs. Kim fusses over the cashier (who’s her daughter) to punch his orders. Haru smiled at him when she gave him his receipt but leaned forward, gesturing Yunho to do the same.

“You see that girl over there?” She asked, pointing at the girl in the corner, “She entered earlier looking sad and all. You think you can cheer her up?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “I’m not a clown, Haru. Also, I can’t even bring myself to cheer up when I just went through a break up myself.”

Haru was taken aback by his response then she rolled her eyes, “But you don’t look broken unlike her! You look completely fine.” She pouted and gestured to the girl again, “She looked like she’ll pass out due to sadness.”

Yunho just let out a sigh, “What do I get in return?”

“Two extra cinnamon rolls under my tab.” She said and winked at him. Yunho held his hand out and she took it to seal their deal. “Good luck, Yunho!” She singsongs and Yunho just rolled his eyes.

Approaching her table, Yunho decided to tap the girl on her shoulder and she thankfully looked up but didn’t speak. The curiosity in her eyes though, was enough to voice out her question of “who are you and what are you doing here?”

Scratching the back of his head, Yunho smiled shyly, “Hi, I’m uh, Yunho. I’m alone and have no company. Is there anyone seated there?” He asked, pointing at the empty seat in front of her.

“There used to be someone seated here but they left me.” She said in a quiet voice enough for Yunho to hear but didn’t comment on it then she proceeded to answer him while shaking her head, “No one’s seated there.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I.. sit here?” He asked cautiously, “But it’s okay if you don’t want me too! I’ll just look for an empty space.”

Y/n decided to look around and noticed that the coffee shop is a bit packed. Feeling guilt immediately eating her up just in case she rejects him, she answered, “You can sit here, it’s okay.”

Without saying any more words, Yunho sat down in front of her. They were silent for a while until Yunho spoke up, “You know, me and my friend noticed that you’re actually not well.”

“Your friend?” She asked, thinking if this guy was playing with her, that he’s with someone else even if he told her no, just like what he did with her. “You’re with someone yet you told me that–”

Her sentence was cut off by a giggle from Yunho, “The cashier is the friend I’m talking about.” He clarified and she can feel the heat of shame spreading through her cheeks.

And after that, silence was there again.

No one really spoke until Yunho’s order arrived. He was munching happily on his cinnamon roll and took a sip of his hot.. coffee? Chocolate? When he looked at her and said, “You know I heard you when you said that there’s someone seated here before. Where are they?”

Y/n looked at him with an unpredictable look and that’s when Yunho realized that it must be a sensitive topic. Immediately waving his hands that are holding the utensils, he added, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it! I’m just a mere stranger, I know.”

The look of panic on his face made y/n smile a bit as he resembled a puppy that got caught doing something wrong. She picked on the loose thread of her sweater when she decided to speak up, “You know, it’s my dream to rant to a stranger because I’m certain that we won’t meet again and I think that time is now, though I’m not sure about the not meeting you again part. I’m y/n, by the way.”

A soft smile flashed through Yunho’s features as he understood what she meant, “You can speak whenever you’re ready.”

She let out a deep sigh and started, “You know the feeling when someone you gave your all just decided to fuck you up emotionally?” She asked and laughed humorlessly, “That’s what he did to me. I won’t be saying his name, I hope you don’t mind.” She added as she wiped her tired-looking eyes.

Yunho nodded silently and gestured to her to continue, “I’ve been living with my boyfriend, well, ex boyfriend for six months now. We’ve been together for a year and a half after I met him at my best friend’s party. We were happy, really. After dating each other for a year, he decided to move in at my apartment unit.”

“The first three months were full of legitimate happiness. There were times where we just laze around, play with each other and sometimes do some random things. I thought it’ll stay that way but I was wrong. Somewhere around April, he started to be distant towards me. I was trying to reach him out but he just kept on pushing me away.” She paused for a while and wiped the tear that fell from her eye.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she continued, “I thought he was just stressed with college and all but no. Somewhere mid-April, I was waiting for him to come home late at night then he went home drunk. Really really drunk. We had our fair share of parties but that’s the first time I saw him like that and he didn’t tell me that he’s going to a party as well. I mean, I wouldn’t stop him but asking for permission could’ve been nice.”

“We started screaming at each other that time and it was the first ever huge fight we had. He left my apartment that very same day and I don’t know where he went. He went home in the morning and apologized to me then of course I accepted it. Those things just continued until recently, he said something that I really won’t forget which is also the very same reason why I broke up with him.”

“He was drunk that time again when he shamelessly and proudly confessed to me that he’s been seeing my best friend and that she’s the better girlfriend than me. I mean, I’m okay with breaking up with a lying, cheating asshole but my problem is I gave up everything for him. He’s my first love and she’s my only friend who didn’t leave my side. Now I have no idea on how to bring back my life from before.” Tears were now falling down her face nonstop as she tried to wipe it off her face but the waterfall from her eyes showed no sign of stopping. Yunho frantically pulled his handkerchief on his pocket and offered it to her which she gladly accepted.

“We’re stopping here, okay? I don’t want you to faint due to crying.” Yunho said as he fidgeted with his fingers and she sobbed quietly. This girl is the same as him. Broken, left alone, not appreciated. But their difference is that he has everything she doesn’t have and can do anything she can’t. He has friends to help him fix himself and welcome him with open arms when he’s too overwhelmed with sadness and that made him realize of how fucking lucky he is.

Until now here he is, conversing with a very broken girl and thinking of a crazy thing that he never thought he’ll be doing.

Silently grabbing y/n’s trembling hands into his he smiled, “Let me help you.”

She was taken aback by what he said and before she can react, Yunho explained his intentions, “We’re both broken, my girlfriend just broke up with me yesterday but that doesn’t fucking matter. Between the two of us, I can completely keep myself going. I still have friends who can help me when I’m in my most vulnerable state but you.. your only friend betrayed you and I just realized that maybe this is the time someone needs me.”

Too stunned to speak, y/n just clasped Yunho’s hands tighter, “Yunho..”

“Y/n, you don't have to say anything but please reconsider my intention. I want to help you.” 

A set of fresh tears fell down from her eyes as she looked at him. This time, with a smile. The most beautiful smile that Yunho has ever seen because no smile can be compared to a smile of a broken one.

“Thank you, Yunho.” She said in a whisper but enough for the both of them to hear.

He softly patted her hand and answered in return, “Now’s not the time to say that. Thank me when you’re whole and fixed again. Deal?”

A laugh bubbled out of y/n as she agreed, “Deal.”

Six months later…

Laying down on his bed with his eyes closed, Yunho couldn’t help but think through the sudden turn of events in his life. His mind immediately flew through the memory of the day he first met y/n. 

Weeks after their encounter, it was quite hard to reach out to her despite knowing her side of the story. They agreed to meet everyday at the same spot in the same cafe and just talk about their own feelings. Y/n had a hard time letting her emotions out during those times as she really won’t be able to speak without crying and Yunho has to offer his handkerchief all the time since she always seems to forget to bring hers all the time.

Right after that, a month passed by quickly and she started to smile and laugh more. She also met the boys who welcomed her into their circle with open arms but at the same time, she has her guards up just in case things go wrong. The boys never failed to notice it but they chose not to comment on it. She immediately warmed up to San and Wooyoung and they’re labeled as the chaotic trio in their circle. Y/n felt herself getting happier.

In the second month, however, despite having enough friends, she still finds herself going back and forth to the past. There are times where she had her emotional episodes and she’s just thankful that Yunho’s been there for her always. She spent most of her time staying over Yunho’s place than she spent in her own place, telling each other stories that the other doesn’t know and just laughing her sadness away. 

And in the last week of the second month, y/n decided to move over the empty condominium space beside Yunho’s as she reasoned out that she can’t stand the memories made in that apartment so she decided to move out. As Yunho helped her unpack with a fair share of giggles and laughter, that’s when Yunho realized that he’s healed.

In the last month of the year, which marks the fifth month after they met, Y/n seemed to go back to her normal self and Yunho saw her as a very giggly and carefree person. Yes, there were times where she remembers her ex boyfriend but instead of wallowing in sadness like she used to do, she started making fun of that memory that left her very broken before. The first time they spent Christmas together was when Yunho realized, he’s in love.

He’s falling for her and he’s scared.

He’s scared that the same thing will happen to him all over again. That after making her happy, she’ll leave him like how they did with him. Cancelling all his plans the day after that, he decided to voice out his concerns to Yeosang.

“Sang, I’m scared.” The first thing he blurted out with panicked eyes by the time Yeosang opened his apartment door. 

His friend guided him to his couch and patted him in the back, “What happened, Yunho?”

“I..” he let out a deep sigh and he felt tears pooling in his eyes, “I’m falling for y/n, Sangie.”

A breath of relief rushed out of Yeosang’s mouth and he smiled warmly, “What’s so scary about that?”

“I.. I don’t know. Maybe she’s going to leave me like all of them did. Maybe I’ll get broken again but this time I won’t be able to pick myself up and–”

“Yunho, it’s not love if it doesn’t hurt.”

Yunho was dumbfounded by his friend’s words; he opened his mouth only to find himself closing it once again, making him look like a fish gasping for air.

Yeosang stared at him intently as he took a hold in Yunho’s hand, “Yunho, listen to me. Y/n, she’s thankful for you. Though I don’t know what really happened to her the day you met but I can tell that you helped her.”

“I assure you, y/n’s not the type to leave the only person she’s relying on. She’s too grateful to do that, used to be too broken to think of that. She’s not the type to put herself in the same situation that I’m assuming other people used to put her in. And I get it, you’re scared but Yunho, the happiness she gave you is not describable by words. It’s not just me who noticed it but the other boys as well. She’s different, one of a kind.”

“Give it a try and maybe she’s the right person for you.” Yeosang said as he put finality in his words, drowning Yunho in realization.

“Yeosang..”

“I know, you’re welcome. Now go home and fix yourself. I know you had fun staying up with her yesterday.” His friend pushed him out of his apartment door and before he completely left the place Yeosang called him out once again, “If things go wrong, we’ll always be here for you.”

And that made Yunho’s heart swell in happiness.

Except, when he saw her again, Yunho just chickened out and decided to avoid her like a plague and y/n is not dumb enough to not notice it. 

January is their sixth month together and it’s also been a few weeks now since Yunho started avoiding her. It made her sad to the point that she ranted to Wooyoung and San on their separate group chat on how Yunho’s not talking to her and how it frustrates her.

Y/n, unlike Yunho, is aware of the feelings that bubbled up in her heart. The way she felt the butterflies on her stomach two months ago when she heard Yunho sing for the first time and she blatantly told herself that yep, she’s in love with her golden retriever-looking friend. She immediately told San and Wooyoung about it as the two boys called her suddenly and started squealing like high school girls in the duration of their call.

She thought that everything was going fine and she kept her secret well not until Yunho started avoiding her after they all spent the New Year’s Eve together. She started to get worried, thinking if she did something wrong.

Deciding that instead of wallowing in her own overthinking tendencies, y/n went to Yunho’s apartment and didn’t bother knocking as she punched his too familiar code at the door. It’s in the middle of the afternoon and she figured that maybe he’s still at his bedroom after experiencing one of a hell week because college already started again.

Opening his bedroom door silently, y/n saw Yunho laying down on his bed with his head turned to the side of the window. Eyes obviously blank and void of emotions. She silently made her way to his bed and jumped on it and shouted, “Yunho!”

“Jesus, you scared me!” Yunho exclaimed as his arms wrapped around y/n’s torso with his eyes wide, “What are you doing here?”

She laid on her stomach and giggled as she removed the hair covering her eyes, “I came to visit you.” She replied with a pout and she spoke once again, “You’ve been ignoring me since the year started, I miss you.”

Yunho stared at her incredulously and he tucked her hair behind her ears, noticing the blush spreading through her cheeks, “I’m sorry, I just have a lot of things in mind.”

She let out a huff making Yunho raise and eyebrow at her and she smiled, “I’ll listen to you this time.”

“Y/n–”

“Come on, Yunho. You helped me a lot so now it’s my time to repay you. Maybe talking can help you get your mind out of the gutter.”

Yunho just laid there silently once again thinking through things that can possibly happen. If he tells her, their friendship might either end immediately or she reciprocates his feelings for her. But then, he can hear Yeosang speaking in his mind.

Give it a try.

He watches as she fidgets with his fingers that are laying in his stomach. He stared at her eyes and it reflected the night sky filled with stars even if it’s the middle of the day. He let out a sigh making y/n look at him and giggle, “That’s a deep–”

“I like you.”

Y/n was dumbfounded for a while as she stared at Yunho with her mouth open making the latter laugh and guide his hand under her chin to close it. She stared at him still and it’s been a minute that passed by when he confessed and Yunho couldn’t help but feel nervous so he added, “I-I understand if you don’t like me back it’s just that–”

“Idiot.” She suddenly blurted out, as she sat down beside him from her lying position, cutting his words. Yunho looked at her confused, “Huh?”

“You’ve been avoiding me because you like me? What are you trying to do? Damage control?”

“Well, yes–”

“That’s dumb, Yunho.” She said as a matter of factly and Yunho’s eyebrows were knitted, “Look if you’re just going to roast me–”

“I like you too, you fucking dumbo. Are you going to kick me out?” Her words sounded confident which made Yunho stare at her in wonder. They were silent for a while and it’s enough time for Yunho to help his mind process her words.

Giggling as he did so, y/n looked at him confused, “Why are you giggling?”

“Come here.” He said as he pulled her beside him, y/n’a face tucked in his neck, “I really like you.” He said once again then chose to proceed, “I was scared that you’ll leave me like they did if I told you.”

She hummed, “I really really really like you too. I know when we first met that I was broken but that didn’t make me afraid to love. I won’t leave you like they did.”

Yunho smiled through her hair and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head, “Let me take you out on a date?”

“We still have some time today. We can go to Mrs. Kim’s coffee shop. We can visit an arcade then eat dinner out? Maybe do a little bit of shopping?” She suggested as she looked up and their gazes met. He smiled softly at her and hummed, “Sounds like a plan.”

“For now cuddle me here in your bed.” She said in a cute demanding voice causing a laugh to bubble out of Yunho’s mouth.

“Whatever my princess wants then she gets.”

She let out a squeal and squeezed herself tighter into him as if they weren’t too close enough yet. She thought about the first time she met the light of her life and remembered a very important thing they agreed on.

“Yunho?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Thank you.” He looked down at her and booped their noses together as they cuddled in the warmth of Yunho’s bed. Yunho, smiling like an idiotic fool, immediately knows the true meaning behind her gratitude because he feels the same, he’s thankful he met her that day.

Maybe Yeosang is right as well, she may really be the right person for him, and for the first time in years, this is the only relationship Yunho had that made him feel so happy and content.

thank you for reading!

#ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez hongjoong #ateez wooyoung #ateez au #jung yunho #yunho x reader #yunho fanfic #yunho angst #yunho fluff #ateez fic #ateez fanfic

[honeymoonjin]

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 namjoon x reader ~ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 18k 

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 fluff, thriller ~ 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 crime!au, detective!reader, candle shop owner!knj

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 with a serial killer on the loose that uses artisan scented candles as inspiration for murders, now is not the time to be falling in love with the man who made them.

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 non-explicit descriptions of murders. one incident of injury, and mentions of blood. cursing. while this involves a serial killer and the causes of death are mentioned, there’s no scenes involving actual murders taking place, or crime scenes. extremely long discussions of scented candles because i can’t help myself. make-out scene but no smut.

𝘈/𝘕 dedicated to the darling @mind-of-a-hardstan​. it’s been a pleasure being your secret santa, and from the bottom of my heart i hope you enjoy <3 thank you to my dedicated team of supporters: my beta reader @honey-boyyoongi​, my partner in crime @hobisgorgeousass​, my resident namjoon stan @jamaisjoons​ and finally the first person to read it in all its entirety and my amazing friend @but-kimnamjoonpersona​. you’re all magnificent and i love you.

Kim Namjoon looks guilty.

That much is immediately clear to you, but it’s not the type of guilt from someone who’s done something wrong. More so, it’s the type of guilt you hold for something out of control, the empathy you feel for others. You can see that it tears him up inside that someone this evil and twisted has drawn inspiration from his store.

The police force didn’t know it was a serial killer. At least, not at first. At the beginning, the murders were so far apart that nobody ever thought to connect them. Almost seasonal, there was one in April, another in late August, one in September and, most recently, the middle of November, last weekend.

You were the one who initially noticed something strange. Perhaps it was your bad habit of lumping all your unsolved cases into one pile of failure, but the more you thought about them together, the more you realised something was odd about them.

In each location, there was a single candle, sometimes melted down to the base, sometimes still burning, and the different causes of death seemed to relate pretty directly to the scent or name of the candle.

And all those candles came from one store. Moni’s Candle Shop, the boutique store that exclusively sold handmade candles. The store owned by one Kim Namjoon.

“It’s so awful that all of these are connected, I… I don’t understand why my candles have anything to do with this.”

You smile softly, though your eyes are dancing around the store. “Nobody blames you, Mister Kim. All serial killers like to have a calling card. At the end of the day, they want credit and attention for their crimes, they want to show off what they’ve done. Deep down, they want to get caught, and it’s my job to use these candles as my path to the killer. To make him face justice for what he’s done.”

Namjoon tips his head, dark locks shifting across his brow. “You’re referring to the serial killer as a he. Do you have a suspect?”

Your eyes dart back to him, ducking your head with a rueful smile. “Force of habit, I’m afraid. Statistically, it probably is a male due to the brutality of the murders, though we’re definitely not ruling out a female yet. We...still don’t have any leads, really.” We have jack shit, you think to yourself, no fucking clue. Coughing lightly to clear your throat, you scratch at your collarbone where the freshly cut lanyard of your ID rests. “If you have any in stock, I’d love to get a closer look at those candles, Mister Kim. The ones from the scenes have been taken into the forensics lab for re-inspection so I’m unable to get my hands on them.”

He seems mildly surprised, eyebrows lifting behind thick black frames. “Oh! Of course,” he sits up and sucks in his stomach to wiggle around the edge of the desk, only pausing once he reaches the doorway to the store floor. “Wait. I don’t actually know what scents they were. I think they might have told me, but I don’t recall…”

You nod shortly and lean back in your chair to free your front jeans pocket, reaching in for your small notepad, flicking a few pages back. Standing up, you join him. “Ah, let’s see… Spring Day, Blue Side, Autumn Outside the Post Office, and Winter Bear. Are they still in stock?”

He hums in consideration, ducking through the low doorway to peruse the aisles. It’s a narrow store, narrow but relatively deep, with two long aisles running down the centre, rows upon rows of candles on every available surface. Towards the front, there are small, tiered tables with layers of gift boxes, and he beelines towards them, sifting through. “Now,” he murmurs under his breath, “those are seasonal candles, so our best bet would be…. Here!” He draws out a squarish cream box with gold detailing. Behind a layer of clear plastic are four mini glass candles, and he lifts up a leg to balance the box on as he delicately pulls off the sticky round tab at one end, pulling out the sleeve inside. “The Four Seasons gift box. I don’t know if your killer used the full size or gift size candles, but these are all I have left. We have a full range every season, and on holidays too, but these are the big sellers so I put them together for our combo deals.” He passes them over to you, using the back of a finger to push his glasses back up his nose. “He has good taste; they’re great candles.”

You glance at him sharply. “He murdered four people. That we know of.”

He cringes at himself. “Sorry, I… I just meant I, uh, I recommend these a lot, sell them a lot. If he bought them off me, I wouldn’t be able to pick him apart in a crowd. It’s hard to keep crack of faces, especially before special holidays. That’s all.”

You drop your gaze to the cardboard sleeve, heavy with the four glass jars. “This is only three of them,” you reply. “Spring Day, Blue Side, the autumn one… this has Serendipity as the winter scent.”

He pouts in surprise. “Oh! Sorry about that. Serendipity is a nice one too. Smells like Christmas cookies.”

“I need Winter Bear,” you remind firmly, though not unkindly. You see the faraway look in his eyes, like he’s recalling the scent, smelling it in his mind, and you understand just how much this craft means to him.

“Of course,” he laughs sheepishly, “come with me. You’re in luck; we only just last week released our full winter range. It’s to the front.”

“That’s interesting,” you muse, mind whirring as you follow him. “So that means our guy must have been in here recently.”

Namjoon stops short, almost causing you to walk into his back. He continues after a shocked pause. “That’s a really good point, I didn’t think of that.” He sends you a dazzling smile, eyes soft. “You’re really good.”

You try to stay professional and neutral, but you can’t help the smile that breaks across your face with a breathy laugh. “Thank you. But maybe save the praise until after I got the guy. You got security cameras?”

“Oh, of course, can’t be too careful!” He deftly plucks a full-size, heavy hulk of a jar from the main display, holding it in his wide palms. His smile freezes, falters, falls. “Well, that is, uh… I have a camera in the office out back and a camera over the front door. So we could pull the records and see everyone that’s come of left, but we wouldn’t be able to see what they got inside the bag.”

You suppress the bubbling of irritation in your chest with a strained smile. “Can’t be too careful,” you repeat with a sour undertone of sarcasm lacing your voice.

He looks put out for a moment, staring silently down at the large glass jar, a milk chocolate-shade of wax poured inside with a thin layer of christmassy red on top. His thumb swipes slowly over the paper label pasted across the front, and shakes his head like he’s breaking a fog. Smiling again, his eyes crinkle warmly behind his glasses. “Winter Bear,” he announces, “here; smell it.”

You wait patiently for him to open the lid, tugging against the friction of the rubber seal, before he holds the wide opening up to your face. You raise an eyebrow, and delicately edge your nose closer to take a sniff. Immediately, your mouth drops open and your eyes widen.

The smell comes in stages, every sniff a brand new experience. First is a hit of cocoa, rich and lush, with a slight complexity that you can’t put your finger on. The smell warms, richens, and finally as you exhale the final hit of tartness lights your senses. You have the sudden urge to reach out and grab his hand as he begins to pull away, the want to hold it closer so you could inhale further, but he lowers his hand and presses the glass lid back into place. Your nostrils flare when they return to the vague honeyed scent of the store, which seems still comforting but so dull compared to that candle.

“That’s incredible,” you admit, “what is that, chocolate and raspberry?”

“Cranberry,” he corrects, a fingertip dragging along the outside of the thick glass, outlining the red layer on the surface. “It’s chocolate, brown sugar, a bit of spiced vanilla, and then that cranberry to round it out a bit, something to cut through the richer scents.”

“And you make these yourself?” you question, eyeing up the sleeve of four smaller jars you were still holding, wondering at what point would be a good time to open them.

He cracks a crooked smile, a dimple poking out of one cheek. “I certainly do! If you’d like to, sometime I could show you my little workshop where I make all these.”

You return the smile, although your eyebrows are knitted in confusion as you turn to look around the store. “I thought it was just the store floor and your office in this building.”

“It is,” he clarifies, delicately removing one of the candles from the box you’re holding, looking over the label as he speaks. “My workshop is at my house. I live about twenty minutes outside of town, a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Seemed a shame to use all that space just on me, so I repurposed some rooms so that I could store more ingredients and melt more wax at a time.”

“Ah,” you say lamely as he cracks open the Blue Side candle, lifting it to his own nose. Your eyes, slightly lidded, stare deeply at the bright ocean blue candle wax. You squint at the label, though it’s behind his tanned fingers and you can’t get a good read. You wait, almost in a trance, for him to stop sniffing and offer it to you.

When he sees you staring, he laughs quietly, a soft puff of air in the otherwise-silent room, and hands it over. Instead of taking it, you rest your hand on his lightly and pull it closer, leaning in. This one’s refreshing, like a summer day on some island, fruity, floral and bright. Your fingers tighten around his unconsciously as your eyes flutter shut for just a moment, inhaling deeply. He coughs, interrupting your refreshing sniff of the candle, and you remove your hand from his hastily, standing back upright with a light pink stain high on your cheeks.

“What scents are in there? It’s very, um, light,” you stutter, cursing the divine scents for scrambling your thoughts.

Namjoon corks it up again and takes the sleeve off of you to replace it. “Some aloe vera and lily of the valley, but mainly its lotus blossom and melon. You like it?”

That’s an understatement. “How do you even come up with these combinations?” Without giving him a chance to answer, you reach out and pop out the spring fragrance, pressing the open jar right up to your nose as he speaks.

His eyes dance at your enthusiasm, and his tongue slips out the corner of his mouth to swipe across and wet his lips. “Half of it is experimenting,” he shrugs, waiting patiently for you to finish huffing Spring Day.

You reluctantly pause your sniffing to look up at him. “And the other half?”

“Trawling through the entire Yankee Candle website.”

You snort, hand jerking in surprise and causing the lip of the glass to bang against your top teeth, pinching your lip painfully. You squeak and pull it away frantically, pushing the little glass lid back on like it’s personally offended you, handing it to Namjoon to put away.

The owner sends you a bemused smirk and returns it to its rightful place in front of the summer fragrance. “I know they smell good enough to eat, but you’re not actually supposed to,” he jibes. “Spring Day is especially delicious though, I must admit. Peach, white tea, freesia and some rosewood for that darker note baseline.”

You nurse your sore lip with your tongue, hoping it doesn’t look too flirty. Or perhaps secretly hoping it does. “I might as well complete the set, then,” you remark, dropping eye contact to take a try of the autumn scent.

“This one’s a heavier scent,” he explains, “Autumn Outside the Post Office is all about those fall fruits and trees. Pomegranate, maple leaf, some juniper berry and orange blossom. This was one of the first seasonal scents I attempted, a good four-ish years ago when I opened, and it’s still going strong.”

A weird, invisible curtain falls, or a coin drops, or a string is cut. Whatever it is, that heady entrancement in the scents vanishes the moment you put that last one back. You feel your face muscles drooping, eyes turning gloomy. “Did the DI tell you what actually happened to those people?”

Namjoon doesn’t need to ask what you mean by ‘those people’. His smile falls, and he sets the sleeve of four candles down on the winter display, pushing aside some white, candy-stripe, and festive red candles to the side as he does so. Morosely, he shakes his head. “All I know is that my candles were found near the scenes. Does the guy just, I don’t know, have a sensitive nose?”

Your eyes are distant, unseeing. You shake your head. “The-” Your voice fails you; unsteady. No matter how many years you have been in this line of work, the sheer grimness of it all never left you. “The murders were very clearly inspired by the scents. That last one, Autumn Outside the Post Office?” You take a deep breath, reaching into your satchel, pulling out a manila folder with several glossy photographs. Handing them over, you watch the disgust, shock, and misery play out on his face. “A postal worker. Clocked out forty minutes before he should’ve. Poor timing, I guess. He was knocked out via a blow to the head with some unclear blunt weapon, probably metal, and maple leaves were shoved down his throat. He suffocated to death just metres away from the staff exit out back.”

The candle shop owner’s voice is soft, almost inaudible. “Oh my god.”

You barrel forth. “That was the third one. The very first murder was originally written off as an accident. A banker who often spent his work breaks in the peach orchard down the street from his workplace was poisoned by the cyanide found in peach stones. One of his colleagues noted it was odd that he didn’t come back to his office after lunch even though he left a candle burning on his desk.”

“Spring Day,” he murmurs, flicking over to the following photo.

“Spring Day,” you confirm. “The next wasn’t for another three months. A lifeguard drowned in the community pool after hours-”

“The lifeguard drowned?”

“He had been let go from his job for arriving to multiple shifts under the influence of alcohol, and that night when he went to collect his belongings after closing, he fell in the pool and drowned. Reports showed a slow-acting tranquilizers in his system. That same drug was found in his apartment, injected into the cut up melons and pineapple slices in his fridge. He must’ve eaten before he left or something, cameras showed him stumbling around too close to the edge of the pool when he got to work, and… well. Authorities were alerted when a smoke alarm went off in the early hours of the morning. A candle from your store was found burning next to a small fire that had been lit inside a metal trash can.”

“Jesus. All three had my candles there?”

“All four,” you correct, “I noticed the connection after the fourth murder.” He’s reached the bottom of the pile of photographs now, his face washed out. Maybe you shouldn’t have shown him, but he needed to know that there were real consequences at play here. You see a flash of red in the picture just below the one he’s currently looking at, and hastily take the stack back off him. There were some things he shouldn’t have to see. “The Winter Bear candle. We’ve managed to keep the gory details from the public, but I’m sure you’ve heard about the head of Gingco Corporate.”

“The business mogul? I thought she passed away at home?”

“She was found slashed up in the bear enclosure at the zoo just outside the main town centre.”

He narrows his brows, black frames slipping down his nose again. “Wasn’t Gingco buying that zoo? It was all over the news.”

“They wanted to demolish it and build a mall, yes. It seems our killer didn’t like that so much. She died from bleeding out. Multiple cuts, in rows to look like bear claws although forensics tell us it was actually a switchblade. Dropped in the bear enclosure post-mortem.”

Namjoon wavers on his feet slightly. “And the candle?”

“On one of the picnic tables facing the enclosure. Burnt down to the wick, so it had been there for a while. Longer than she had been dead, actually. That’s when I started to think it was premeditated. That’s when I began to connect the dots.”

He lets out a shuddering exhale, hand on his sternum, rubbing in a self-soothing pattern. “I don’t understand what my candles have to do with any of this. I just give them interesting names, I don’t…”

“This isn’t your fault, Mister Kim,” you assure, slipping the manila folder back in your bag. “It’s good news, actually. It means that all we need to do is keep an eye on your customers and see if any suspicion people frequent the store. Which is where I come in. My higher-ups suspect the killer might get spooked if you install security cameras inside the store, so we want to avoid chasing him or her away from our one lead. I’ve offered to pose as an employee to keep an eye on things myself.”

“Y- what? I usually work here alone…”

“And now you won’t be.” You reach out your right hand for a handshake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Mister Kim. I’m confident that we’ll catch this son of a bitch in no time.”

His eyebrows lift at your curse word, but he finds himself nodding instinctively. “Okay, yeah, I can- we can do that. I just need to make you a name tag. Let’s go to my office.”

“This is gonna be easy,” you promise, bottom lip resting on the edge of a takeaway paper cup, inhaling the steam that rises through the thinning layer of foam. “You have so few customers that statistically the next one is probably the murderer.”

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be suffering the same boredom as you. “Oh, it’s not that bad! It’s always slow on a Thursday morning.”

“It’s been slow every morning.”

“Well.” Namjoon sips at his water, eyebrow twitching. “It’s not slow in the afternoons.”

You place your cup down with a thud. “You close in the afternoons.”

He stares at you blankly. “...yes, but that’s just because I’m so busy back home in the workshop making more candles. Anyway, we get more customers on the weekend, just wait and see.”

You can’t keep a stern face, softening at the way his eyes glimmer behind thick glasses. “You still haven’t shown me your workshop.”

“Seems a little forward to already be asking my beautiful coworker to come home with me.”

Blushing, you shake your head and pull up a hand to cover the cheek closest to him. “Very funny,” you deflect, “I bet you just don’t want any girl cooties in your mancave.”

He lets out a loud peal of laughter, one that’s harmonised with the jingle of the overhead doorbell as a customer enters, slipping in and cutting Namjoon short. You curse the timing, wishing you could hear that joyful sound again.

“Hi there, you need any help today, or just browsing?”

Instead of replying, the elder lady simply nods at him and shuffles slowly down the room, going to the ‘florals’ section on the left wall, birdlike posture hunched under several layered cardigans.

Namjoon lets out a breathy laugh. “That’s old Mrs. Chin, she wouldn’t hear a gun if it was shot beside her ear.” His face falls, furrowing his brows. “Poor choice of metaphor. She’s deaf as a bat; anyway, she always comes in to buy a new set of tealights each week.”

“Tealights?” you question in a considering tone, finger lazily running up and down the metal hoops of your spiral bound notepad.

He spots this, and gently rests his palm over your hand, halting your absentminded movement. “If anything tells you she’s not a suspect, it shouldn’t be the tealights, it should be the fact that she’s in her nineties.”

You scoff at yourself, staring at the way his hand dwarfs yours, your wrist peeking out past his thumb. “Case closed!” you announce, putting on a TV-news producer voice. “The Wickerman has been taken into custody, and you won’t believe who it is!”

He chuckles warmly, eyes crinkling, and squeezes your hand once before removing it. As Mrs. Chin comes up with a set of six frangipani and gardenia tealights (Jamais Vu, the eggshell-white packaging says), Namjoon rings it through, chatting away to her like they’re old friends, like she can hear him. Even as she fails to hear what he’s saying, she beams, thanking him profusely as she accepts a receipt and her purchase with slightly shaky, age spotted hands.

She turns, slowly making her way down towards the exit. You reluctantly take your hand off the table, the top of it cold after being let go. “You’re really good with people, you know?”

He shrugs. “She’s a very kind person. Treats me like a grandson even though she sees me once a week at most.” Once she leaves, the door jingling again behind her, Namjoon checks the time. “Just about 1pm; that’s us done for the day. Do you mind getting the door? I’ll go take the cash till out back.”

As you stand to go lock the door and switch the hanging sign to CLOSED like you’d done every day this week with Namjoon, you feel fingers wrap around your wrist.

He looks up at you, still sitting. His eyes search your face, hand tightening on you subconsciously. “Today,” he says softly, reverentially.

You furrow your brows. “Today...?”

He swallows. “Come over to my house. I can show you the workshop. I’m in the last stages of planning a new scent, and I want you to try it.”

You fight the urge to pull back your arm slightly, just enough to that his fingers slip between yours instead of on your wrist. You smile softly and nod. “Today.”

Instead of driving your car behind him, you end up taking him in your passenger seat, him pointing out directions at the last second as every last detail of his surroundings distracted him. As it turned out, he didn’t have a licence, and would simply bike back and forth most days, hiring a moving truck to transport candles to the store once weekly.

It worked out well, the two of you enjoying amiable silence for the most part, the drive only about twenty minutes up a slight incline, becoming gravel roads in the last couple of minutes, winding around sectioned farmland and wind turbine plants, before pulling up a long driveway, wheels crunching the loose stone and coming to a stop in front of a rustic but sturdy-looking farmhouse, complete with a swing seat on the porch, and sills of yellow and pink flowers underneath the windows.

“This way,” he guides the moment you turn the key to switch the car off. Following him as he hops out and scuffles energetically down the side of the house, you hastily lock your car and race to catch up.

Instead of the front door, he takes you to the back, unlocking it with an old-fashioned heavy iron key. It’s equally cosy inside as it looks from the driveway, though the carpet is worn thin and the light he switches on is a little wan. As he takes you down through a small laundry and into what you expect to be a garage, you marvel as he shows you inside.

Clearly all his money has gone into his business. While the rest of the house is homely and humble, his workshop looks like a romanticist version of a mad scientist’s lab. Custom-made shelves that reach the wall display mason jars of every type of ground spice, flower, essential oil and concentrate that you could imagine. From vibrant red freeze-dried raspberry to warm brown nutmeg to the deep purple of pressed violet petals, he had it all. Two full walls were taken up this way; a third was for boxes of finished product, as well as stacks of the empty glasses he poured them in, bundles and bundles of wicks in wooden cases, and rolls of black paper stickers, ready to be stamped with the newest creation.

Directly beside the doorway you came in was a desk teeming with papers and plans, above which a corkboard is hammered into the wall, countless scraps of paper and scrawled phone numbers and dates. It’s chaos, but beautiful chaos.

“Wow…” you breathe, unable to put into words just how magical it is. Even the smell is like nothing you’ve experienced before. Not overpowering, but certainly full-bodied, it’s based in the rich, slightly caramel scent of soy and beeswax, but every sniff, every inhale, is a different shade made up from all the components. Some moments it’s fruity, from a tiny leftover beaker on his desk that has dried wax caked onto a glass stirrer and a delicate wafting of sweet lemon and the tartness of raspberries. As he leads you towards a wide bench of scattered bowls, measuring cups and portable stovetops, you uncover lighter floral scents, heady wood tones, and sensual spices, a harmony that’s addictive the longer you smell it.

“I apologise for the mess,” you hear his soft voice cut in, his hands filling your vision as they group together tools and open mason jars in some semblance of tidiness. “I don’t usually have guests.”

“It’s okay,” you shrug, still overcome with the entrancing nature of the room. “It’s amazing, honestly. Which one of these is the one you said you were almost finished with?”

His face lights up, pulling his glasses off and resting them on a spare spot on the bench, blinking as his eyes adjust. He reaches for a somewhat smaller bowl, about as tall as a coffee mug and a little wider, and wiggles it back and forth in his hand with a flick of his wrist, disturbing the viscous, deep purple syrup inside. “Here,” he offers up, “tell me what you think.”

Taking a hold of the glass bowl but preventing yourself from sniffing at it just yet, you gesture at his face. “Ditching the glasses?”

“Hm?” He pats his face dumbly for a moment before his eyes glimmer in recognition. You can see them a lot better without the frames’ obstruction, and you want to melt at the rich brown of them, slightly slanted but widened with enthusiasm as his cheeks pinken. “Oh! No, I just… I read on the internet that if you take away one of your senses the others get better. So I thought- I thought maybe if I couldn’t see so well, I’d be able to smell better. It’s stupid, really, but I think it’s helped so far. I’ve always been a little prone to placebo, maybe.”

You grin. “It’s cute.” He laughs shyly, ducking his head to rub at his heated cheeks. You take mercy on him (and give in to your own temptation), bringing the glass mixing bowl to your nose and breathing in deeply, stopping short when the relaxing, nostalgic scent of lavender fills your nose. Not just lavender, though. There’s plenty of comforting notes that you can’t quite put your finger on, ones that give complexity to this concoction. You hold it with both hands, sniffing audibly. “Namjoon, this is incredible!”

The conversation moving back to something he’s confident discussing, he looks back up at you with a broad smile. “Isn’t it? I’ve been trying to get a lavender scent ever since I opened, and I just couldn’t find the right balance. Everything was too sickly sweet, or smelt like soap or my grandparents’ house. But just in the last couple of days, I was struck with inspiration. Instead of going for more florals or light scents, I used ylang ylang oil and tonka absolute to darken and round out the smell. Makes it less like hospital disinfectant and more like comfort. You like it?”

You smile softly, voice bouncing weirdly as you keep your face directed towards the purple syrup. “Mm, comfort. That’s totally it. It reminds me of like, in the holidays when you have nothing to do so you have a bubble bath at 4 o’clock in the afternoon and it just feels like life is peaceful and perfect and you have all the time in the world.” You let out a deep breath. “What are you gonna call it?”

He has an unreadable look in his eyes. The tiniest quirk to his lips, the softest smile. “4 O’clock,” he answers.

The friendly, dimpled customer-service smile stays on Namjoon’s face long after the door jingles, the group of high school girls tittering away down the street. While he’s distracted tidying up the supplies for gift-wrapping, you let your eyes wander over him shamelessly.

Most of the time, when you spoke to him or thought about him, he was this soft, gentle man with a goofy smile and glimmering eyes. And while that was true, it was only in moments like these that you realised just how large he was. His tender demeanour often had you forgetting his tall frame, broad shoulders and strong hands. It was a juxtaposition that endeared you to know end; the corded body that rested under unassuming sweater vests and plain trousers. But at the same time, all that strength was channeled into his craft; the ease at which he’d lift crates of glass candles wasn’t lost on you, but he’d just sheepishly smile and say you get used to it.

Surely he didn’t have the thickest chest you’ve ever seen just by stocking a candle shop? There was so much you still didn’t know about him, and while your job was focussing on the serial killer, not your temporary coworker, you can’t help that weird bothered feeling in your chest.

Your eyes wander around the inside of the checkout desk. It’s organised chaos, with printed receipts mixed with fresh rolls mixed with notepaper on one end, haphazard piles of business cards and loyalty cards in the middle tucked behind the cash register, and three drawers filled with samples, returns, and stationery to the right.

Hearing him come back and place two fresh cups of tea on the countertop, you reach out to pluck a business card from the top pile. It’s classic off-white with warm bronze lettering embossed on it. You note with humour at the long list of roles between Namjoon’s name and contact details. Owner, creator, manufacturer, manager, storeperson. On the flip side is the friendly, manuscript letting, same as the sign above the door. Moni’s Candle Shop.

“What is Moni?” you question absentmindedly, only half-aware you’re speaking aloud.

“Moni,” Namjoon murmurs from behind you, correcting your pronunciation on the first vowel. “It’s nothing.”

You turn to him with a doubtful smile, eyes teasing. “Oh, come on, it’s your entire brand! It can’t be nothing.”

“Yes, it can,” he defends with a pout, blowing away the steam that emanates from his cup. “Just like FILA is a random word.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “FILA is an acronym. It’s like, the name of the company in French or something.”

He sets his tea down delicately, without having taken a single sip. “Yeah, well, maybe Moni is an acronym.”

“What does it stand for then?”

He turns up his nose petulantly. “I don’t want to tell you.”

You raise your eyebrows dubiously. “Because you don’t have one.”

“I do,” he counters, eyes darting upwards. “It stands for...Mmmmany Objects N-need...Interest.”

You can’t hold your unimpressed stare for more than a few seconds, breaking into a bout of laughter, reaching out to punch him lightly on the arm. “You’re such a dork,” you make out, though your grin certainly removes any bite from your words.

He lets you shove him, smiling down at you fondly. Your laughter slowly fades as he waits for you to finish, eyes crinkling and dimples showing.

“What?” you murmur, cursing how quiet your voice has become, a strange fluttering in your chest making your breath weak.

Namjoon rubs the base of his neck self-consciously. “Moni was my childhood dog. I didn’t have a lot of friends, so he really meant a lot to me.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, Namjoon…” Now that you think about it, even though he’s charming and charismatic to his customers, you’d never seen or even heard him mention any friends or family. Plus he was the only worker in the whole business, if the impressive resume on his business card was anything to go by.

He laughs, eyes shining. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not a charity case,” he teases warmly. “I’m happy. I’m happy now.”

You curse your overactive heart for reading too much into his words. This is a job. Stay professional. Forcing a stabilising breath into your lungs, you nod. “That’s good.”

His smile turns strained, but you only see it for a moment before his attention is caught by the jingling of a bell, a middle-aged gentleman in a business suit, rushing towards the counter even as he loudly chatters away on his phone.

“I’m happy now too,” you admit softly, letting your words be swallowed up. Namjoon’s eyes dart to you with an unreadable look, but he turns back. You don’t think he heard you.

After three days of working beside Kim Namjoon, he names a candle after you. After a week and a half, you begin to realise you have a crush on him.

After two weeks and one day, there’s a fifth murder.

It twists your heart, to see the red and blue flashing lights flooding the windows to Moni’s Candle Shop, illuminating Namjoon’s face and reflecting off his glasses as he squints and holds up a hand to protect his eyes.

You’re the first to get out of the car, rushing over. The sign is twisted to CLOSED as Namjoon exits; with a coat on and a shoulder bag, he looks like he was on his way out. Good timing, you suppose.

He’s too frazzled to greet you, hair already disheveled from running his hands through it nervously. “What’s going on, Y/n?”

“Silver Spoon,” you rush out, “who bought Silver Spoon?”

“Huh?”

You sigh and push past him, opening the front door and cringing at the ring of the overhead bell, once for you and a second time as he follows closely behind. “There’s been another one,” you explain bitterly, “I need you to write down a list of all the customers you can remember that bought Silver Spoon.”

Namjoon lets out a shuddering breath. “God, okay, um…” You watch impatiently as he searches behind the desk for a scrap of paper, settling on the back of a receipt as he scribbles, eyes lifting skywards every time he has to try and think.

“Is there anyone that you remember that’s bought the other candles too?”

“I- I don’t know, just let me write th-”

“Well, think, Namjoon, people are getting murdered!” You’re too heated to pay attention to the crack in your voice, though he pauses and looks up with furrowed brows.

He hands over the receipt with eyes, dark with hurt. “You think I don’t know that? You were the one that was here this whole time to try and find the guy. So tell me, Y/n; did you notice anyone strange buying Silver Spoon?”

Your eyes prickle. Maybe that’s why your blood is boiling now, as you stare at the shop owner across from you. No, you didn’t. You were too busy enjoying your time with him, too busy marveling at the warmth he exuded with his customers and his craft, too busy falling for him. You swallow the rising lump of self-hatred at the back of your throat. “Thank you for the names, Mister Kim. I’ll be in touch.”

His face changes, wounded puppy-like eyes replaced with concern in a fraction of a second. “Y/n, are you-?”

“Have a nice day.” You’re out of the door and back in your car before tears of frustration slip down your cheeks.

Namjoon fidgets in the corner of your vision. It would irritate you, only you’re determined to ignore him completely as much as possible for the sake of your job. You keep your head low, focussed on your work, trying to find links between the locations, the motives, the choice of candles, anything.

“So, you won’t even look at me now? All because I couldn’t write down all the names.”

You exhale, staying silent for a moment as you finish your scrawl, refusing to look up even as you reply. “I’m not looking at you because I’m trying to do my job.”

“You were doing your job earlier. You looked at me then.”

You feel your spine stiffen. “And then somebody got stabbed to death by a tree branch.”

He baulks, visibly flinching even out of the corner of your eye. “Cypress or birch?”

You sit up slowly, narrowing your eyes at him. “That’s your fucking question? Silver birch. It was a snapped-off branch of silver birch. She was found in the forest about 20 k north of here.”

“She?”

You throw your pen down and sit back in your chair. “Im Jee-hwa,” you spit out. “I trust you to keep your mouth shout because the Im family certainly don’t want it getting out, but she was the fifth victim.”

Namjoon frowns. “The chaebol? Last I heard, she was in jail.”

You shrug. “Last night, she got bailed out by her father and spent the night at their family residence. According to various witnesses of relatives and staff, she left before ten in the morning and was discovered less than two hours later by a hiker. Stabbed to death with a broken off branch - no prints, of course - and a silver spoon lodged in her throat, deep enough to damage her vocal chords.”

Namjoon’s hand rises up to his neck, wincing in sympathetic ache. “God, and she was only in her early twenties.”

“Twenty-two,” you specify glumly. “God, the poor girl. Who knew being in jail for tax evasion wasn’t the worst part of her week?” You lean forward, rubbing your face tiredly. “Nobody apart from the residence staff, some of the Im Corporation partners and Im’s family knew about her release the night before. Silver lining is that we can narrow our suspect down to that pool of individuals. Bad news is that her mother estimates it at around eighty to one hundred people because of the likelihood of the news spreading amongst more of the Im Corporation’s workers overnight. Miss Jee-hwa was quite the hot topic, it seems.”

“Jesus.” Namjoon pauses for a bit, like he doesn’t know what to say. “Still, I don’t see why this means you need to ignore me completely. Wouldn’t it be better if we worked together?”

You turn your head again, breaking away from his hopeful eyes. Even just seeing his hand resting on the table beside yours, fingers flexing slightly like he wants to reach out, makes your heart tug in ways you just can’t afford to indulge in. “We’re going to have to create a promotion. Something irresistible that inspires all the customers coming through that door to sign up their name and contact details.”

His voice is lost. “Y/n?”

“While I try and find the connection, and the tech team start pulling background checks on everyone at the house and the Corporation headquarters that night, we’re going to keep track officially of every single person who purchases a candle. Hopefully we can track somebody down before another incident, but if not… There’s no way we won’t be able to find our guy if we compare your list, the people that knew about Jee-hwa, and the customers from now on. There’s no way,” you reiterate, unsure whether it’s you or him you’re trying to convince.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Namjoon agrees. “I usually run a Christmas competition anyway. I’ll whip up a sign-up sheet. Let’s hope they use their real na… Y/n?”

The use of your name brings you back, and you turn to him, eyes wide. “Tax evasion,” you profess in a hush.

“Sorry?”

“Tax evasion. Im Jee-hwa had all the money in the world, and she was still selfish. Our killer put a silver spoon her throat, just like that old insult about rich people born with a silver spoon on their tongues. Yes, it’s like the candle, but it’s some sort of… of sick irony that relates to the victim.”

His eyes are wide, brows poking over the top of his thick frames. “He’s playing god.”

“He’s playing the judge and jury,” you correct. “Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t see it until now.”

Namjoon hunches over your shoulder as you begin to flip through the pages of your file, going through the details of the previous murders. “Do the others fit?”

You squint. “Some. The drunk lifeguard being drowned, for instance. But I bet if we went digging in their personal lives a little more, we’d find links. The candles aren’t just the method, they’re the motive. Give me a second, I need to call my superior and get the investigators on this."

"O-Okay, I'll sort out the Christmas stuff," Namjoon hurries out, standing as you do.

You're already dialling when his hand comes into your line of vision, gently wrapping around your forearm and squeezing reassuringly.

"We'll get him, Y/n," Namjoon promises, "you're an amazing detective."

You soften, flicking him an appreciative smile as you raise the phone to your ear, but your heart sinks. Maybe that's not enough.

Things return to the way they are, for a while. With every name you write down, every candle you sell (far more than the previous weeks as Christmas grows nearer day by day), and every suspect your investigation team crosses off the list, you loosen up, feeling more positive.

Nothing stops the dread you feel checking your phone every morning, and there's nothing better than the overwhelming relief you feel when there hasn't been news. It's illogical, you know; if there was another murder, your superiors wouldn't hesitate to wake you. Part of the gig. But still, it was nice to clear your notifications and breathe easy for a few moments.

Namjoon was doing good on his end of the deal, persuading all the customers to sign up for the Christmas prize pack, no matter how reluctant, and you siphoned photocopies off to the investigators, adding to the backlog more background checks to run and alibis to clear.

"God," you groan, stretching out your limbs with a guttural noise that morphs into a wide yawn. "So busy yesterday, and suddenly it's dead quiet. How can it be this slow on a Saturday?"

"It's a Sunday."

"Is it?" You consult your phone with another groan. "Fuck, I'm reaching the drop-off point."

"The what?"

You let out a tired smile at Namjoon's comical look of confusion. "The drop-off point," you repeat. "It's something my friends and I came up with in school. Apparently, most cases go cold right when the police or detectives or whoever get compliant and lazy, thinking they have a perfect net placed out. They're convinced that they'll catch the sucker, so they sit back and wait, only for a hole to form right under their noses and the suspect to get away. That's the drop-off point. Aren't you bored?"

"Hm?"

"Bored. We think, 'oh, we just need to keep writing down names and we'll get 'em.' But maybe we're so focussed on writing names that we're missing something really obvious that we'll regret for years to come. Don't you think?"

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, letting it sink in for a moment. "I think you're worrying yourself over nothing. This whole time our first major in was that the person is a customer. They can't have bought all the candles at once; not only would I probably remember someone coming in and ordering five or so specific candles, but some of the later candles weren't even released when the first murder happened. So we know for a fact they're coming back to get candles multiple times. And nobody has left here with a candle without writing their full name and contact details down, so we're fine. You're fine."

You stare at Namjoon for a few moments, eyes roaming over his face. The dimple that's emerged with his soft smile, the warmth of his eyes and the earnestness in his expression. Your heart aches at the sight, mouth filling with a million things you wish you could say to him. "Thank you," you settle on. "I needed that."

His smile widens, and his mouth opens to reply, but instead of his caramel voice, you're greeted with the metallic buzz of your phone vibrating on the desk.

"Fuck," you interrupt, snatching it off the counter and feeling your good mood sour with dread at the ID. You answer it with a worried frown, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Please don't tell me there's been another," you ask of your superior.

The line is silent for a moment. "We need you down here, Y/n. Bring any names you have so far. The gap between has shortened yet again; he's getting impatient. Or addicted. Desperate, perhaps, if he thinks we're onto him. Either way, you better have something. I'll see you at the station."

Your stomach turns when the line goes dead.

Namjoon's hand rests on your shoulder, but you have to shake it off to stand and reach for your coat. He takes it back, flexing it awkwardly. "There's been another," he says, more of a statement than a question.

"The drop-off point," you confirm bitterly, "he's slipped through the net yet again. I was careful this time; not a single person that seemed out of place, or with odd behavior. Nothing."

"Hey," Namjoon soothes, eyebrows knitting in worry as a customer enters, a young child in a school uniform and backpack, preventing him from saying any details. "It's okay. You have the names now, it's time to compare them and like you said last week, there's no way we won't be able to narrow it down. You've got this."

A headache forming between your temples, you grab the clipboard of Christmas prize signups, and leave out the back, glancing behind you at Namjoon's tensed form as he puts on a smile for the young customer.

"It's him, it's fucking him, I know it," you rush out as you hustle down the corridor, your boss pacing to keep up.

"Are you one hundred percent certain?" Kim Seokjin, the man you'd been reporting to on this case, halts you with an arm across your chest. "We haven't finished going through the other suspects. There could be others that match better. We don't even know that he knew all of the victims."

"It's him," you promise, eyes bright with conviction. "Cha Giho. In-house chef at the Im residence. So he knew Jee-hwa was out. And he frequented the shop, I sent Namjoon a text of his ID photo and Namjoon recognised him as a regular."

Seokjin's face twists in disapproval. "Jesus Christ, Y/n, you can't do that, it's private information. Besides; you said you remember speaking with him. You didn't get any serial killer vibes?"

"I didn't speak with him; Namjoon did. I was just with him at the desk. He wanted Namjoon to recommend a candle for a forest getaway, Jin, it's fucking him!"

Seokjin sighs out slowly, eyes closing for a moment to maintain composure. "Okay. I'll go with your gut on this one, Y/n, but only because I trust you. We'll go to his place tonight and take him in for questioning on suspicion of multiple murders. If you're wrong on this, Y/n-"

"I'm not wrong," you promise, "I'm not." Your face softens, staring up at the man that you had developed a close working relationship with over the past few years. The man you had begun to see as a personal hero, or an older brother. "Jin. Thank you for trusting me on this. Keep me posted."

"Of course." He pulls you into a brief but tight hug, pressing a kiss to your hairline, and pulling you back by your shoulders to hold you at arm's length, staring intensely. "Now listen to me. You go home and you stay home. Lock the doors, bolt them, everything. On the odd chance that he's not at home or that he finds out we've singled him out, I don't want him to freak out and go against his own sick brand of justice and seek out revenge instead. The last thing we want is a dangerous man like him becoming spontaneous. Understood?"

You nod. "Understood."

He doesn't let go. "And don't be stupid and go track down Mister Candlestick Maker either. We've given him a call to lock up and go home, he's safe. Please; be selfish for me and stay home and stay safe."

You pout playfully for a moment, but sober up when his expression doesn't changes. "You too, Jin. Send the SWAT team. I need you alive to bother me."

He scoffs, but his eyes twinkle with fondness, and maybe a little teary sentiment. "Okay, kid, off you go, I have a suspect to detain."

"Aye aye, Captain."

"What are you doing here?" "Being stupid," you answer through the crack in the door, "now let me in."

Namjoon sighs, shutting the door to remove the chain and opens it back up again, ushering you inside with a cautious look outside after you. Closing it securely behind him, he turns to you. "Why are you here?"

You push past him, grabbing his woolly sweater by the sleeve to pull him after you. "I saw you burn yourself with your own candle wax last week because you wanted to read the label on the base right after you poured it. There's a serial killer on the loose, I don't trust you to keep yourself safe." "Thanks," he says flatly as you sit him down on his plushy couch, standing beside, knees almost touching his. "To be fair, there's been a serial killer on the loose this whole time."

"All going well, he gets detained and know we found him out. All going poorly, he manages to evade the authorities and goes on the run, knowing we found him out. I don't like those odds."

"Don't you have faith in your own colleagues?"

You whirl around with a glare, arms crossed tightly. "Aren't I allowed to be scared for you?" you ask in a small yet biting voice, hating the way it trembles. "Can't you just let me take care of you? Keep you safe?"

He nods slowly. "Sit down," he instructs gently. He waits until you do as he says. "Now," he begins, "what's really bothering you? There's something else going on here and both you and I know it."

You purse your lips, tucking your legs up, resting your chin on your knees and wrapping your arm around them. "Crystal Snow."

"Sorry?"

"I never told you," you answer, though deep inside you know full well this isn't what he meant, "I never told you what candle the last murder was based off. It was Crystal Snow."

He clears his throat lightly, eyes dull as you dodge his true question. "That's Christmas release candle just like Silver Spoon. Another woody one, too. Pine needles, fir, white musk, rosemary and cedar. Hard to get it totally white with those ingredients, but... That's beside the point. Was it in a forest again? I know we have pine trees in the area."

You shake your head numbly, only just noticing the warm fireplace to the left of the couch when it crackles. Somehow, you hadn't felt any of its warmth since arriving. "Father of two young children. Found by the older one that morning when he went outside to play in the snow. His father was buried in it, frozen. His head and shoulders were stuffed into a kennel."

"A kennel?"

"It's from their dog. Wife says it wasn't used anymore. The victim used to always make the dog sleep outside in the kennel, but it wasn't properly insulated. Just got back from the vets after getting pneumonia last week."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "At least we've got him now, Y/n. It's over." He stands up suddenly, and you look up at him. "Do you want a cup of tea or something?" he offers. "Now that you're here, I'd rather you not go back outside, so we might as well get comfortable."

You try to push your worries from your mind, simply giving him a soft smile. "Tea sounds nice, thank you."

As you listen to him tinker away in the kitchen, you shuffle further across the couch in the direction of the fireplace, occupying the space he left warm. There's a window to the left, and you rub your forearms through the fabric of your long-sleeved top, looking outside as flakes of snow pile against the sill, partially blocking your view of the white abyss beyond, vaguely hilly like the terrain of Namjoon's backyard. If nothing else, it's much more peaceful here than at your place. More quiet.

You straighten up suddenly, a shiver running up your spine. Too quiet.

You jump up, rushing into the kitchen and feeling dread shock your system like a splash of cold water when it's empty. Surely he didn't leave a door unlocked... "Namjoon?"

"Yeah?"

You jump at the voice behind you. "Fuck, Namjoon, where were you?"

He stands in a now-open doorway, one hand behind his back as the other grips the doorknob. "In the workshop," he answers, jerking his chin back to gesture the room itself behind him, adjoining to the kitchen.

You sag in relief, but frown a little. "I don't remember coming through the kitchen last time."

"Two entrances," he explains. "This actually used to be a walk-in pantry but I knocked down the doors so there was some extra space." He shakes his head as if he's clearing it, then coughs lightly, eyes focussing in on yours intensely. "Y/n, I have something I want to give you-"

"A heart attack," you interrupt, smacking his chest. "Seriously, Namjoon, you disappeared and I thought something had happened!"

He smiles widely, and you fight to stop from instinctively returning it. "You really do, huh?"

Your face crumples in confusion. "I do what?"

"Care for me," he finishes in a touched voice, brown eyes soft like butter. "I...I thought so for a while, but I never..." He clears his throat again, and whips his hand out from behind his back so quickly you jump, brandishing a glass jar. "Here," he declares, "I made this for you."

You look down in wonder, seeing a familiar shade of purple fill the glass. "Namjoon..."

"4 O'Clock. The lavender candle. Years, and I couldn't perfect it. And then you came along and I found myself thinking about you every minute of every day and it just... it just came to me thanks to you. Everything just makes sense now. I finally mixed the scent with the wax, and I want you to have the first one."

You let him place it in your hands, and you look down at it, stunned. Your thumb runs over the paper sticker, pressed with a stamp. Just three lines, in varyingly sized font.

"So?" Namjoon takes a deep breath, eyes brimming with emotion, with affection and hope. "I kept telling myself I was being delusional, or just convincing myself and seeing what wasn't really there, but after today... You really care for me. And I care for you too, so much, Y/n. I've totally fallen for you."

You swallow thickly, delicately setting the unlit candle down on the kitchen counter beside you.

Namjoon's face falls, his whole body deflates, brows knitted in confusion. "Y/n?"

You can't bear to hear the hurt in his voice. "Namjoon..." you breathe, chanting it like a prayer. Perhaps in some ways, it is. A plea for salvation. Namjoon. "I came to you for my work. And... now that we know who it is, I'm going to have to leave tomorrow now that my work is done. For the integrity of the case, I have to remain professional. Whatever my feelings are-" you break off, heart breaking at the way he looks up in renewed hope. "Whatever my feelings may be, I can't act on them."

Namjoon nods slowly, trying to keep his face neutral as he looks down at the candle sitting abandoned on the kitchen bench, but also at the way your hand hovers, fingers resting on the edge like they can't bear to leave it completely. Finally, he lifts his eyes to your face, searching for an emotional vulnerability that you can't help but imagine is clear to see.

Silently, with only the blanketed hush of the snow outside to surround you in this moment, Namjoon takes one step forward, so that you would have to crane your neck to keep his gaze. So that your bodies almost touch. So that he can rest his palms on your cheeks, cupping them gently and tipping your face up to meet his. "Then please," he begs, voice barely more than a low whisper, "let me act on mine."

The lightest gasp leaves your lips before he bends down and kisses the sound away, warm and sweet and desperate, cradling you like he's scared you'll turn to dust beneath his fingers if he's not perfectly gentle. A murmur comes from his throat, something you think may be your name, and a wall inside you breaks, a cord snaps.

Reaching up, you wrap one hand around his wrist and the other in the fabric of his collar, pulling at it to deepen the kiss, and he melts, taking short steps forward as you shuffle back, until the small of your back presses against the kitchen counter and you arch over it a little with the deepness of his kisses, growing more fevered after receiving a positive response.

You shouldn't be doing this. But god, it feels too good to stop, your heart beating so fast that you feel it where your chests press together, senses going haywire until you feel drunk on him, like the only oxygen in the world is inside Kim Namjoon's mouth, the swipe of his tongue against your lower lip like a burst of euphoria, a gasp of fresh air that saves you from drowning.

One of his hands slips back further, winding into your hair and cupping the back of your head, and you tremble as he presses you so fully against him, even his leg slipping between your thighs so that not a single millimeter of space keeps you apart.

His skin is so hot where it touches yours that you feel on fire, and you have the sudden urge to rip off your top so that you can bare yourself to him, even simple layers of fabric too much separation to handle.

He pulls away reluctantly to pant, lips pink and swollen, pupils blown wide, and you follow suit to catch your breath.

"Y/n," he finally makes out through gasps, thumb rubbing mindlessly at your cheekbone, "if you're going to regret this in the morning, please stop. I can't- you can't give me everything only to take it away again. I'm willing to wait. Until they arrest Cha Giho, until they convict him, until you hand in your final report, I don't care, I'll wait for you. When we do this it can't be a mistake." He stares at you earnestly, openly, hopelessly.

Your eyes widen, taking in his words. "Namjoon, I... Are you sure? I promise I want you, but... if they call you up as a witness and we've been sleeping together, it could totally invali-"

"I know, I know, it's okay," he reassures. "I understand." He gives you a fond smile. "Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me."

You nod, a strange blend of relief and regret mingling inside you. "Thank you, Namjoon. I'm sorry."

He lets you stay entangled like this for a few more bittersweet moments, before gently slipping his hand out of your hair and letting his other fall from your face, stepping away. "Don't apologise, there's no need. Now; I think we've both had enough excitement for one night. I might skip the tea and get straight to bed."

You stand up straight again on slightly shaky legs. "I can take the couch."

"You could," he jibes with a grin, "or you could just sleep in the spare bedroom."

You laugh, poking his rumpled sweater. "What a gentleman."

He shrugs with a warm smile, turning to lead the way. "And just because we aren't sharing the same bed," he calls out over his shoulder, "doesn't mean you can leave without saying goodbye."

"I would never," you promise.

The call comes in the early hours of the morning. Enough for you to be unceremoniously ripped from unconsciousness, the deepest sleep you ever remember having. You’ve purposely set your boss’ ringtone to be the most annoying, whiny preset tune you could find so that it would wake you when needed, and you regret that decision now as the sharp blue light causes you to wince.

“What is it?” you croak, forgoing pleasantries.

“Can you contact Kim Namjoon? He’s not answering his phone.”

You frown, mind feeling two steps behind as you struggle to process his words. “Answering his pho- What’s going on, Jin?”

“He left a note,” your boss explains. “At his house, Cha Giho left a note. I need to speak with Mister Kim.”

You sit up like a bolt. “He what? It’s him, then, it’s definitely him? What did it say?”

Jin lets out a little breath of forced patience. “Can you pass on a message to Mister Kim?”

The Mister Kim that was currently sleeping just down the hall. “I could probably work something out,” you answer. “What did the note say, Jin? Is Namjoon in danger?”

“Namjoon,” Jin repeats blankly. He goes silent for a moment. “...You didn’t go straight home when I asked, did you?”

You huff, jaw tensing. “Now’s not the time, okay? If Cha Giho is still out there, then I need to know what he said in that note, Jin. We don’t need another body.”

Even through the phone connection, you hear the reluctant clicking of his tongue. Jin clears his throat and begins to read. “‘All these months I had hoped you would recognise me. You were always happy to recommend me a candle every time but yet you never asked me my name or how I was doing. I’m sick of taking justice out on them, treating your word like God. I want this to end tonight. I’m going to take my justice out on you.’ That’s it, that’s all he wrote. So wake up Mister Kim or don’t, but whatever you do, make sure the house is safe and that you two stay there. Got it?”

“Of course,” you reply, but your mind is already whirring, getting up and tugging on your shoes with one hand. “Listen, Jin, I’ve gotta go, I want to wake up Namjoon so he knows what’s going on. Better to stay alert and aware. Thanks for the call.” You hang up before he can respond, and break into a hasty jog the moment the call ends.

You didn’t know if Cha knew where Namjoon lived. You didn’t know how or when or where he was planning to strike. But you knew the one thing that could tell you.

You write a note for Namjoon in rushed but legible handwriting, instructing him to stay inside and stay safe, that you just needed to visit the store quickly to check up on something. After making sure all the curtains in the house were drawn, the windows were firmly shut and the doors locked, you leave, the front door clicking and locking with a finality that steels you.

You drive in tense silence, eyes flitting all over the road in front of you, at the milky pools of yellow your headlights cast onto the gravel. Part of you is expecting the middle-aged man to be crouched behind a bush with an old-timey revolver, or screaming down the road with a bloody butcher knife. Years you’ve been working this job, and still these fantasies have a tendency to overtake you. The entire drive, only a few cars go past you, none looking particularly unusual.

You realise your mistake the moment you pull up across the road from the silent row of stores that house Moni’s Candle Shop. You also know it’s too late to go back.

Each one of those stores are dead quiet, totally black. In a town this small, there weren’t even any neon lights that would illuminate the streets all night. You can barely see by the wan glow of the streetlamps, few and far between, but even if they weren’t there, your eyes would be drawn to Moni’s anyway.

Easily visible through the glass of the door, sitting on the front display, is a single candle with a warm flickering flame.

You flick your engine off, and slump backwards in your seat, kicking out with a cry of frustration. He wasn’t going to Namjoon. He was going to let Namjoon come to him.

And now that you’re here - and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s watching out - even if you turn around and leave, there’s nothing to say he won’t follow you back.

Not for the first time in your career, directly disobeying and lying to your boss hadn’t worked out as well as you had intended. You had thought that checking out the list of customers’ names and their purchases would aid you, that perhaps if you looked up the latest candle Cha Giho had bought that somehow you could predict what move he’d make, but it seems it’s too late for that.

You stay like that, in your car in the dark, for about twenty minutes, trying to figure out a game plan. You didn’t fancy calling your boss and having him chew you out and suspend you, but at the same time it wasn’t like you could wake Namjoon and get him to bike all the way down at four in the morning. If Cha saw police sirens, he’d definitely split and then you’d be no better off. And the longer you waited, doing nothing, the more vulnerable you were, just a sitting duck in your car.

With a steeling breath, you throw open the car door, stumbling out into the frosty air, cursing as a cutting breeze saps the heat from your body. As you cross the road, you keep an ear out, ducking your head to send a text to Jin anyway, just a GPS location marker, immediately putting your phone on Do Not Disturb afterwards. As much as he knew how to bite your head off when you fucked up, you’d rather be on his grumpy side than six feet under. You were reckless, not stupid.

The front door is unlocked. It shouldn’t be, but you suppose Cha was courteous enough to make the way easy enough. The bell jingling is noisy enough to make you jump, and you warily hold up your arm in a protective stance, eyeing the shadows.

Luckily, you aren’t immediately assaulted by an attacker, and the door closes behind you, still unlocked. The moment you take a breath, a rich scent fills your nose; caramelised with a warm spice to it. Even as you need to stay alert, it begins to relax your tense muscles. As you breathe it in, you take a moment to let your eyes adjust to the dim inside of the store. Orange plays across your eyes from the warm flame of the candle, but it doesn’t reach far, and you can’t see very deep in the store. There’s no one immediately in your vicinity, but that doesn’t mean Cha isn’t somewhere in the store.

“Come out,” you call, relying on your experience in the field to keep your voice stable. “I know you’re there. Let’s do this the easy way; we already have your written confession, so you might as well cooperate with me now.”

You wait for a moment, but you can’t hear anything, not even a rustle of fabric or a breath. He was going to do this the hard way.

Sighing, you move forward with cautious steps, approaching the display table that houses the candle on one of its upper tiers, right at easy arm’s reach. Taking care not to disturb the melted wax inside, you lift it, trying to make out the paper label. With light coming from within, its shadowed in black, and you huff, reaching in your pocket to pull out your phone, using the light to see.

You suck in a breath. So he had planned on killing Namjoon here, then.

“Very funny,” you announce flatly, “Magic Shop, huh? Did you pick this one yourself?”

Still, the room stays silent, and you frown. Normally by now the killer would have either grown defensive, smug, or aggressive. You weren’t prepared for the total lack of response. A niggling thread of doubt begins to knot itself inside your chest. You glance down at the candle one more time. The wax itself is a glossy tan, but almost the entire top third, if not half, is molten, tipping around the sides. This candle has been burning for hours.

With the cold splash of realization running down your spine, you slam the candle back on the display table, cursing when the wax spills out, pouring over your hand. You recoil like you’ve been stung, rubbing at the burning over your knuckles, an angry red welt already rising on the skin.

Doing your best to ignore it, you turn your phone flashlight to the rest of the store, forcing yourself to investigate the whole interior just to confirm Cha isn’t still there, or hasn’t left anything behind. Even though your heart is screaming at you to leave, you dutifully look in every human-sized nook and cranny, taking just enough time to confirm what you already know.

Cha isn’t here.

Magic Shop was never Moni’s, it was Namjoon’s workshop.

And you’d left Namjoon alone there.

It’s a good thing it’s the middle of the night and there aren’t many cars around. You floored it like never before, very nearly careening off the road on several turns on the windy road back to Namjoon’s house, and you just about crashed into his house with the speed at which you approached it, not even bothering to fully turn off your car as you rush to the front door, banging on it wildly.

As you whack your fists against the solid door, numb to the sharp pain of your burned skin impacting on it, you scream Namjoon’s name, loud enough for your throat to go raw. After a minute with no reply, you push back tears and begin to run around the perimeter, swearing in terrified frustration as all the windows and doors are as securely shut as when you’d left them.

Cha was long gone when you arrived at Moni’s Candle Shop; there was no way you had beat him here, no way he wasn’t already inside. Barely aware of the tears blurring your vision, you reach into your pocket for your phone, shakily dialing the one person you knew would pick up without delay.

“Jin,” you sob out the second the other line picks up, cringing at the loud noises of police sirens that floods his end, “I was wrong, he’s not at the store, he’s here, he’s-”

“Y/n, where the fuck are you?”

You freeze your frantic pacing around the back of Namjoon’s house at the harrowed tone in your boss’ voice. Even as you threw around the f-word like crazy at work, Jin had never once sworn, not at you, not at anyone. “I’m- I’m at Namjoon’s house, Jin, I just got back here after-”

“You went to the store right after I told you to stay put, you reckless fucking girl, do you have any idea how terrified I was when I got here and couldn’t find you anywhere?”

“Got here? You went to the shop?”

The piercing noise of sirens fades away slowly, like Seokjin’s walking further away, and you can hear him puffing into the phone, shallow breaths. “Of course I went to the shop, Y/n, because I knew how stupid you can be and I was fucking right! You’re just lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

Your eyes widen. “No! Jin, no, Cha hasn’t disappeared completely, he’s here, at Namjoon’s house, I know it! I’m stuck outside, Namjoon isn’t responding, I’m-” you break off, voice cracking violently as a sob bubbles to the surface. You let fresh tears run hot tracks down your face. “God, what if he’s dead already, Jin? I can’t-”

“We’re going to come down there, Y/n, I’ve already sent out the rest of the squad cars that stayed at the station, they should get there first. Just stay safe, okay? This isn’t what you want to hear but if Cha and Namjoon are both in there, then he’s probably already dead, Y/n. You know that, it’s what your training tells you, so it would be foolish of you to break in without backup…” He trails off with a sigh. “But you’re not going to listen to any of this. I don’t know why I bother.”

You hiccup, using the light of the moon to try and spot some rocks that would be of use in breaking a window. “I can’t wait outside, Jin. I can’t.”

Jin goes silent for a moment, the only sound a muted thud of a car door opening and then closing again. “...The profiling team have kept researching Cha. The pulled medical history shows he had surgery on his right knee in March of this year.”

You use your other arm to chuck a heavy rock at one of the back bedroom windows, ducking and turning away to protect your face from any stray shards. You hear Jin sigh at the noise. “Thank you, Jin. I’ll keep it in mind. I have to go.”

“Don’t get yourself killed, kid,” Jin jokes, but his voice falls flat, unconvincing. “Please don’t,” he adds weakly, the line going dead right after.

You straighten back up, shaking off the few pieces of glass that had landed on your back and in your hair, and take off your coat, hissing at the cold air as you lay it over the jagged edges of the smashed window.

Climbing in is easy enough, and you emerge in an unfamiliar room, one that, even just by the pale glow of the moon, is visibly lived in. Namjoon’s bedroom.

Giving an apologetic wince as you crunch over the broken glass littered all over his carpet, you quickly pick up the nearest thing you could possibly use as a weapon, which happens to be a massive hardback book on his nightstand, an intricate and heavy edition of The Odyssey. Even as your heart races enough to bang against your ribs, you spare a fond smile at the man’s reading choices, holding the hulking thing in front of you like a barricade.

It feels strange, slinking down the carpeted hallway towards the kitchen. Every second of silence you’re expecting to be filled by a guttural scream or a thud of impact or a gunshot. Every shadow seems to shift and move, more dark in the house than light to see by. It feels like wading through shark infested waters with nothing but a pair of floaties as protection.

You pause, just for a moment, when you enter the kitchen, squinting at the light pooling out of a crack in the door to the workshop. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids in vibrant yellows and neon pinks, split seconds of colour with every blink. Once you think you can see without wincing, you take a quiet breath, tiptoeing closer and closer, cringing at the barely audible tap-squeak of your boots on the linoleum floor.

When you gingerly peek around the corner, into the room, you have to clap a hand over your mouth to prevent your gasp from being heard.

The first thing you see is Namjoon.

Arms and torso bound to a chair with the thick industrial packing tape he used for his online orders, Namjoon has his eyes squeezed shut, not in pain but in fear, and his glasses are askew, one lens cracked. He’s rendered mute with more tape, but the edges are lifting from where his tears have slipped between.

That’s not what causes a dark bolt of fear to run through you, though.

Namjoon’s drenched. Absolutely soaked through his clothes, his dark blonde hair sopping. His nose flares at the stench, and you can smell it from here.

Lighter fluid.

For his final masterpiece, Cha had drawn inspiration not from the ingredients, but from the candle itself. You jerk as a wave of bile rises in your throat, managing to swallow it down.

You crane your head more, looking through the tiny gap to make sure Cha isn’t already lighting a match. You spy his silhouette browsing the shelves of ingredients, a few steps away from Namjoon. His hands are empty, and that’s enough for you.

You kick in the door, receiving a gratifying jump from Cha as he whirls around with widened eyes, before they lower again into a lazy grin. You glare at him, eyes darting over to Namjoon, calculating if you’d have enough time to run to him without Cha intercepting. With a tense jaw, you remain in the doorway.

The serial killer laughs, an off-kilter, grating noise. He’s quite handsome, dark hair and sculpted face, but there’s an unsettling gleam in his eyes that revolts you. “I’ve been expecting you,” he announces in a sing-song voice. “Though you took so long. Namjoon and I have been growing bored, quite frankly.”

You let your eyes return to Namjoon, who shakes like a leaf, chest rising and falling in little pants, unable to get enough air through his nose. Rage wells inside you at the sight, but deeper than that, true fear. You almost feel like falling to your knees in tears, begging to exchange your life for his. Anything to get him out of the hot seat, quite literally.

“It’s over, Cha,” you say instead, “the cops are on their way, it’s only a matter of time before they storm the place. Even if you somehow slip away, every police station in the country has a picture of your face on their Wanted board. Every airport, train station and bus terminal won’t let you through. And in the morning, the Wickerman’s true identity will be blasted all over the news. No matter what you do, it’s over. Don’t make any rash decisions.”

His face curls up angrily at this, marring his fine features. “Rash decisions? Tell me, Detective, has there been anything I’ve done so far that has struck you as a rash decision? You wound me.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes, the irritation at his blase behavior welling inside you with no outlet. Keep him talking, you think to yourself. If he won’t give up, just distract him long enough for backup to arrive. “Well, I can only imagine this whole crackpot scheme of yours was borne from a rash decision. Scented candles? It’s a joke.”

He recoils visibly, eye twitching. “It’s inspired,” he spits back venomously, “something nobody appreciates these days. It’s not your average pointless slasher, it’s hard work and it’s art and it’s for the greater good. Those people I killed, all of them, were monsters.”

“They were only human,” you disagree firmly, “just like you.”

He shakes his head slowly, eyes wavering. “I’m not human. I’m a god.”

“I thought Namjoon was the god,” you retort drily, forcing yourself to ignore Namjoon’s brows furrowing in confusion. “Or was that note of yours bullshit too?”

“You read it?” Cha blinks suddenly, nose flaring as he collects himself. “I was wrong. I thought I was acting on his behalf, fulfilling the prophecy of each candle. Carrying out justice. Killing bad people.” Cha turns to where Namjoon’s sitting with a glare. “He recommended every single one of those candles to me personally. They meant something.”

A strange, wounded gurgle sounds from behind the tape over Namjoon’s lips. It sounds like a denial. Or maybe an apology.

“He recommended them because they smelt good, Giho,” you explain through gritted teeth. “But those murders? The children without a father now? The zoo that has to close down because of its shot reputation? That is all on you.”

The skinny man buries his face in his hands for a moment, roughly rubbing at his eyes with a confused moan. “No, I- I was doing it for the betterment of society, these people were leeches, they were abusers, they were lazy, they were selfish.”

“And you’re a murderer,” you reply simply. “Who’s worse off?”

That seems to shut him up. Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he takes a shuddering breath and turns to the shelf of ingredients, keeping you in his peripheral, but focusing on the rows and rows of jarred powders and liquids and other items.

You slowly edge closer to Namjoon, aware that Cha is much closer than you, and you can’t imagine you’d be able to get to him in time without Cha freaking out and pulling out a lighter or a match. There’s a bulge in his pants pocket that gives you pause.

“It’s over,” Cha mumbles slowly, picking up a half-empty jar of ground nutmeg, watching the layers shift as he turned it. “Only, it’s not. Not yet. Not quite over.”

He holds the jar in one large palm, but you spy his other hand sinking lower, slowly like he doesn’t want you to notice. With a rising heart rate, you turn your head to Namjoon, widening your eyes at him to catch his attention. Knee, you mouth, as widely as you dare. Cha doesn’t catch it, too busy trying to be subtle himself.

Namjoon’s eyes frown at you behind cracked glasses, before he straightens up slightly in realization. His eyes flick over to Cha’s legs, and back at you, raising his brows in question. Your head lifts in the tiniest nod. Then, you tap your right leg twice. Namjoon breathes in deeply through his nostrils, hands flexing on the arms of the chair.

Not wasting another moment, as Cha’s fingers begin to dip below the edge of his pocket, you rush forward, quickly enough to get his attention but slowly enough that he easily overtakes you, lifting out his hand again to hold them both up in front of you defensively.

Your eyes dart behind him, to Namjoon. He’s still too far away for Namjoon to be able to kick out and reach him, so you take a bold step forward, internally cheering when Cha frowns and reflexively backs up in response.

“There’s no need for this nonsense,” you declare, barely aware of what you’re saying, your mouth on autopilot as you take a step closer. “I don’t want to take you down with force, but I will if it comes to that. Resisting will get you nowhere.” You step forward again.

Cha keeps shuffling backwards, eyeing you with a warning in his eyes. “I’m going to prison anyway, then,” he reasons, “it’s only right that my work is completed before I do.” His hand lowers again, and your heart races, body bringing you two steps forward in quick succession without thought.

The man stumbles back in shock, recoiling like you had jumped him, but frowns when his clear footsteps change sound, a tiny wet slap echoing in the workshop instead. He looks down dumbly, to where the excessive puddle of lighter fluid has splashed up his pant legs and soaked his shoes.

His eyes widen, and he looks up again at you in something akin to betrayal.

You wish you could signal to Namjoon that now was the time, but for some reason Namjoon’s foot ekes forward gingerly, like he’s testing out if he could reach. Instead, you keep your focus on the murderer. “Now you see, Giho? If you set the fire, you burn too.”

A second after it comes out of your mouth, you know it was the wrong thing to say.

His face curls up in a snarl, and he shoves his hand in his pocket, pulling out not a lighter or a box of matches, but a switchblade. You gasp and jump back reflexively at the glint of the blade, but he raises it with a growl, bringing it down faster than you can move out of his range for.

A line of fire runs across your forearm as you throw it up to defend you, and you let out a cry through gritted teeth at the deep cut. Cha lifts the dripping blade to charge at you again, but suddenly his hand goes lax and his mouth opens with a pained howl, sinking suddenly to the floor as his knee gives out from underneath him.

Once he hits the puddle of lighter fluid, sending drops all over your clothes, you look past his writhing body to Namjoon, whose leg is still held out in front of him, panting with worried eyes.

Frantically, you pick up the dropped knife, slippery in your grasp from your own blood, and you rush to Namjoon’s chair, slicing through the thick layers of tape, keeping one eye behind you at the man sobbing on the floor in agony, yelling intelligible insults and guttural curses.

The moment his hands are free, Namjoon rips away the tape over his mouth with a pained hiss, massaging the stinging skin. “Y/n, you-”

“Not now,” you interrupt brusquely, finally freeing him from the chair and grabbing his hand, tugging him away as fast as you can go.

Once the two of you leave into the kitchen, you shut the door to the workshop, dashing into the dining room to find a chair to slot under the doorknob, jamming it closed. In less than a minute, you’re out of the house and collapsing onto the frozen grass, cradling your injured arm and doing your best to maintain pressure on it, Namjoon ripping off his shirt and tearing it at the seams to form rough strips, which he binds and ties around the wound, apologising breathlessly when you scrunch up your face at the pain.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry, I have to, you’re bleeding so much, oh Jesus…”

Perhaps it’s the blood loss or the adrenaline that’s making you a little loopy, but you giggle hopelessly at the frightened look on his face.

Namjoon, with lips looking raw from the ripped tape, huffs down at you. “This is serious, Y/n, you could die, don’t laugh at me when I’m helping you!”

This strikes you as even funnier in your hazy mindset, and you keep giggling, hiccuping on dried tears, shivering violently under his gentle touch as the cold air wraps around you more tightly than the bandages on your arm.

“God, I… That was fucking wild in there, I can’t even...process it right now. But I- Are you with me? Y/n?”

You smile dopily at Namjoon, nodding. The rest of the scenery around him is swirling and your stomach lurches with a sickening voracity, but it’s okay when you look deep into his kind eyes and his open face. It’s okay when you have Namjoon beside you, because no matter how cold you are, your heart is burning like a furnace when you look at him and feel him.

He lets out a slow exhale, sitting down beside you with a strong palm on your back to stabilise your wobbling. “I’ve never been that scared in my life, I really thought I was going to die. And when I did, all I could think of was how much I hoped you’d still be okay. Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do to have you stay safe, to keep you safe. That guy pulled a knife on you, Y/n, he stabbed you, and all I could think of was how I wished it was me instead who got hurt. I don’t ever want to see you get hurt, I don’t think my heart can take it again. I- When I was in there, and he was waiting for you, and all I could smell was gasoline… I thought I was going to die, and it gave me a certain type of clarity, I guess. I could think clearly for the first time in a long time. And all I could think about was you. I’m in love with you, Y/n, hopelessly in love with you, and I know I said I’d wait until the case was fully closed and done with, and I will, of course I will, but I just couldn’t wait that long to tell you how deep my feelings go, I- God, am I even making sense right now? It must be the adrenaline, I feel- Y/n?”

You lean forward unsteadily, balancing yourself with a hand on his knee. He stares at you with wide eyes, caught off-guard by your sudden movement. Your grin has disappeared, replaced by a look of wonder. “Case closed,” you announce warmly.

He cocks his head. “What?”

“Case closed,” you repeat insistently, “just for now, case closed. So quick; kiss me before I pass out again.”

A smile tugs at his lips, and with no further persuasion needed, he dips his head forward, joining your lips in a tender kiss, foul-tasting from the lighter fluid but still so sweet. You feel yourself melt into him, pressing your upper body against him, and your eyes slip closed so that all of your other senses come to life with Namjoon, only Namjoon, everything Namjoon.

His hand rises to cup your face softly, and you grip his forearm like it’s an anchor, his lips moving against yours like the tides; constant fluidity with a calm power just beneath the surface, and you’re lost to it, caught in his riptide with no hope or desire to ever get out.

Colours swim behind your eyes, and your arm begins to go numb, fingers falling slack and dropping off his forearm. As an enveloping nothingness creeps into the corners of your mind, slowly pulling you from Namjoon, the last thing you’re aware of is the worried call of your name, before you fall into that black ocean.

TWO MONTHS LATER

Jin glances up at you with a start as you drop the heavy manila folder on his desk. His widened eyes drop to it, the fresh red ink stamped across the top, a thick rubber band holding countless slips of paper, photographs, typewritten transcripts and photocopies, all the written evidence and reporting of the case.

Your boss straightens up, like in the presence of someone important. “This it?” he questions simply, though his tone belies the significance of the item on his desk. You give a short nod, tamping down the smirk that threatens to tug at your lips. “And the online report?”

“Submitted,” you answer, unable to control the smug warmth in your voice.

Jin pats the top of the thick file fondly, eyes darting back up to you. “The families?”

“Notified,” you respond dutifully, though something keeps you slightly fidgety, absentmindedly massaging your forearm, feeling the raised line of the scar you were left with.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by the man swaying side to side on his office chair. His face softens, a tender smile emerging. “And young Mister Kim?”

Your hand goes still as you break his knowing gaze. “I- Well, I figured it would be best if I did a courtesy visit, just to, you know, talk it through properl-”

“It’s okay,” Jin cuts in, “I’m not going to lecture you. I really appreciate that you put this case first and kept...that on standby, but your obligation is over. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s a good one.”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Is that your way of giving me permission, Kim Seokjin?”

A light blush tints the tips of his ears red as he splutters defensively. “God, no,” he scoffs, “if it were up to me, you’d stay pure and innocent forever.”

He breaks off to send you a salacious wink to let you know he’s joking around, and you laugh, turning to leave. Your hand rests on the doorknob of his office door before he speaks up again. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you reply without looking, opening the door and letting yourself hover half-inside, half-out.

Jin’s voice is warm, full of tender fondness that could only be cultivated by years of working side by side. “You’re my best girl, you know that?”

You flick him one last grin. “Right back atcha.”

He beams happily, and you’re already out of the office before you hear the offended cry of him processing your words.

Namjoon’s front door is open when you pull up, gravel crunching below your feet. Your first instinct is alarm, especially considering what went down the last time you were here, but it doesn't seem like anything ominous.

In fact, as you approach, you realise it's quite the opposite. A rich smell wafts out the open door, somewhat familiar yet unique scent that you can't quite put your finger on. You take a step inside, calling out his name, but recoil when, instead of the glossy wood of the entryway, your shoe lands on something soft and springy. You look down, eyes widening in bewilderment at the sight that greets you.

Piled at the front door and winding down and around the hallway are countless fresh rose petals, the same dusky pink shade that you recognise from his flower garden outside. Did he have someone over?

You call his name out again, but instead of a response, you strain your ear to hear a faint melodic hum, a honeyed tune that invites you in.

Leaving your coat and shoes at the door, you follow the trail of petals, careful not to step on any more. You find yourself smiling as you notice some of them with rips and tears at the base, others squished or bent, like he was in a hurry when deflowering the rose bushes.

Both the enticing smell and the dreamy humming crescendo the further along you follow the path of rose petals. They're leading you towards the workshop, through the living room and kitchen, but part of you knew that the moment you walked in the door. It was the heart and soul of the house, and it didn't surprise you that he was in there.

In fact, as your socked feet slip slightly on the smooth tiles of the kitchen, you pinpoint one of the delicate fragrances that fill the air. It's the scent of roses.

"Namjoon?" This time, as you call his name a third time, you open the door to the workshop further, and step inside, eyes searching. Although it's a strange mirror of the last time you were here, your heart is beating out of your chest for a different reason.

When you see him, it's like you're falling in love for the first time, though you've long since accepted over that long two months apart that you had been totally head over heels with him for a lot longer. But still, your heart swells, and you can't help but beam warmly at the sight that greets you.

Namjoon's so entirely engrossed in what he's doing that you don't think he even heard you, still lost in his own melody, something you begin to recall is from a romance movie or a ballet, classical and moving.

His tall figure is bent over the central island bench, using a massive tub with a spout to pour a dusky pink wax into several glass jars, the long, uncut wicks held upright with little metal rods that lie across the top of the jar. His biceps strain under his messy green t-shirt, and the hulking tub is almost the size of his torso, yet his hands don't shake the slightest, and he manages to fill each jar to the same height, about a couple centimetres below the rim, without pouring any over those metal rods. He works quickly, but even if it took him an hour you're convinced you would've happily stood there in awed silence the whole time, unwilling to disturb him.

His hummed tune stops, and he pours a single sample candle in focussed silence, before picking up a new train of notes, a composition you recognise as a Chopin tune, Nocturne-something, but a much lower version, coming from the resonance of his throat. As you watch him closely, his eyebrows move with the music, knitting together and lifting on the higher notes, a subconscious smile tugging at his closed mouth.

As he reaches the end of the rows of empty glasses, the molten wax in the tub running low, he loses track of the rhythm, diverting into his own stream of haphazard runs and melodies, something that's even more endearing to you. Fuck, you're smitten.

Finally, as he puts down the heavy tub on the concrete floor with a sigh, rolling his shoulders back and wiggling his fingers to relax the muscles, you clear your throat loudly, making him jump in his spot and whirl around, eyes widening at your presence.

"Y/n? You got here fast!"

Your smile falters, replaced by a look of confusion. "I... what?"

Namjoon seems to realise belatedly what he said, wincing at himself with a sheepish laugh. "Uh, maybe I got a call from a certain someone...saying to expect you..."

Jin. You nod. "Figures." But then, a thought strikes you, and you glance back the way you came, at the path of rose petals that leads away behind you like the tail of a comet. "So this is all for me?"

Namjoon's eyes are bright, no glasses to obstruct them. You tamp down a grin at the fond memory of his theory about not wearing his glasses while in the workshop, that his sense of smell was better with poor vision. It is so clear to you that every atom in him, every moment and every thought, was filled with nothing but love for his craft.

You want that love yourself, even just a fraction of it. To see if his hands would take as much care with you as with the production of those candles. To know if the sounds that left his throat then would be as melodic as his absent-minded humming.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment to return your mind to the present moment, where Namjoon's tender gaze is on you, eyes searching your face with an open vulnerability.

"Of course it's all for you," he says simply, and the casual intimacy of his comment runs shivers down your spine. "It's done, isn't it?" he questions. "It's over."

Your eyes crinkle with the warmth of your smile. You nod, not trusting your voice.

"Come here," he instructs gently, tilting his head down at the slowly cooling candles. As you approach the bench, he darts away, returning with a paper sticker stuck to his pointer finger. Picking a candle at random, he holds it level so as not to disrupt the wax, and wraps the sticker around the side of the glass, ensuring the corners are flat and snug against the curve. "Here, smell this. It's what I've been working on while the store was closed for the trial."

You're sure to handle the glass jar with as much care as he does when he gives it to you. You couldn't deny the hours you had spent at your desk, or in court, wondering what Namjoon was doing. Your higher-ups, the men Jin reported to, had deemed it necessary to temporarily shut down Moni's Candle Shop over the period of the trial, knowing the unsavoury publicity it might receive, and while increased footfall and news coverage proved them right, you knew it must have bothered Namjoon immensely to be separated from it for so long. It seemed at least he had been productive.

Without reading the label, you lift the opening to your nose, recoiling slightly when the overpowering scent hits your nostrils.

Namjoon laughs, placing a warm hand over your much smaller one, pressing down so that your face was at a safe enough distance from the candle. "Wax smells a lot stronger when heated," he explains with a laugh in his tone, "so maybe don't dip your nose in it."

You flick him a dry look, though you can't keep serious for longer than a moment, too focussed on the heavy weight in your hands. Sniffing, more delicately this time, your eyes slip shut in bliss as you breathe in the enveloping scent. Just one inhale eases your muscles, relaxes your brow, and brings a soft smile to your face.

The first thing you recognise is that perfumed sweetness of the rose, but it's deepened with hints of something incredibly familiar, something you just can't put your finger on, even as it makes your heart swell in your chest.

"What is that?" you question with a confused lilt to your voice, tentatively raising it higher inch by inch in the hopes that you'll finally get it.

Namjoon's eyes glitter; like he's forgotten until now, his hand suddenly shifts from resting on top of yours to cupped below, as he pulls your hand further away from your face, stretching your arm out and up. "Read the label," he replies instead, turning the glass jar around within your grasp, until the paper faces you. You feel his eyes on you as your expression changes with the carefully handwritten words.

"Namjoon..." you breathe, feeling yourself tear up a little, overwhelmed with the emotions that flooded your senses.

His fingers cover the corners, but you can still easily make out what it says.

He’s pulling the candle out of your hand gently, placing it back on the counter top, but you don’t look away from his face for a second. He’s avoiding your gaze like he’s shy, fiddling with a patch of dried wax on the hem of his shirt, but he looks up in surprise when you take a large step forward, enough for his hands to be trapped between you. He wiggles them out, where they awkwardly hover at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He looks so unsure of himself, yet his eyes are so earnest, that it melts you.

“Namjoon,” you repeat softly, “can I ask you a question too?”

He blinks once, taken off-guard. He nods silently, a tense, jerky movement.

A warm smile breaks across your face as you look up at him, at the man you’ve irrevocably fallen in love with. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, but it doesn’t matter when you stand so close. “Will you kiss me?”

There’s a single moment that separates the two of you. A single moment where all the tension floods from his body. Where his mouth drops slightly open and his eyebrows lift in surprise. Where an involuntary sigh of relief leaves his parted lips.

And then those lips are on yours, and you’re apart no longer.

Namjoon kisses you like you’re more delicate than the glass of those jars, like you’re more precious than all the ingredients that line his shelves, like you mean the world to him, and it takes your breath away.

He kisses slow, every sliver of contact cherished and savoured, your face cupped between his palms, thumbs rubbing soothingly at your cheekbones as he tips your face up higher towards him, so he can breathe you in. With languid yet fevered movements, Namjoon deepens the kiss until your nerves are on fire, his body heat against you only adding to the blaze, the occasional slip of tongue sending jolts of electricity down your spine. You feel alive, more now than you have for years, and his scent and his taste and the murmur in his throat are the anchors that tie you to him, to this feeling.

Desperate to be closer, you reach up and fist handfuls of his shirt in your hands, the fabric warmed by his body, and tug him more securely against you. He reflexively drops a hand from your face to wrap his arm around your back, and tilts his head to the side slightly to intensify the kiss even further, raw need quickening the pace even as his lips stay soft and sensual against yours.

When he eventually pulls away to take a breath, the two of you are panting, and you can see his eyes are blown wide with desire, nothing but a narrow ring of rich brown around his dilated pupils.

You heart leaps at the way he keeps you pressed to him, cupping your face with a tender smile playing at his lips. “Yes,” you announce warmly.

His head tilts to the side. “Yes…? Yes what?”

Your grin stretches. “It’s the answer to your question.” You gesture with a tip of your chin to the slowly-solidifying candles. “Yes, I’ll be yours. So; will you be mine too?”

You think you could stay in this moment forever; snug in his warm embrace, lips still tingling from where he’s kissed you, cheek hot where his large palm rests. From the way he looks down at you, you imagine he feels quite the same.

“Oh, my love,” he assures softly, “I’ve been yours all along.”

#btswriterscollective #secretsanta2019 #btswritingcafe #thekimlinenet #bts fic #namjoon x reader #ficswithluv #bts x reader #bts oneshot #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon fic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #knj fic #knj x reader

[lavendertwilight89]

Call you Mine

I told myself I’d do a chapter of Shelter and DDW this weekend... to be fair they each have like 12 pages but... I blame @hnnwnchstr​ and @superpixie42​ for prompting and inspiring a fake dating fic and distracting me. Maybe I’ll make those chapters longer as compensation??

But I also needed to give @willowandfog​ a birthday gift anyway!

Don’t worry I still have a full running tab of every I owe bday gifts for

**cough** @keichanz​ @mamabearcat​ @thunderpot​ @smmahamazing​

Thanks @sapphirestarxx​ for proofing as usual

Here it is posted to AO3

Allllllllsoooooooooo... SMUT

Tag Wall:

@dangerouspompadour @lemonlushff @willowandfog @cstormsinukagblog @littlestuffstohide @clearwillow @ruddcatha​ @hnnwnchstr​ @smmahamazing​ @wolverine1092​ @inuyashaloverforever​ @xfangheartx​ @umacaking​ @bluejay785​  @murdergiraffe​ @superpixie42​ @shnuggletea​ @sistasecbhere​ @nopenname22​ @mcornilliac​ @sapphirestarxx​ @fawn-eyed-girl​ @liz8080 @shinidamachu​

He wasn't really sure what came over him. Typically he was a 'mind your business' kind of guy, let other people resolve their issues on their own.

But he honestly lost his shit when this fucking flea bag wouldn't take no for an answer. She said no thank you, that she was sorry she didn't feel that way, and even lied (which unfortunately if he smelt the lie, so did the wolf) about seeing someone else. To be fair, she tried to justify it was new and they had just met and she was uncomfortable by it all. She was smart. Crafty. And fuck, taking just a look at her face she was pretty fucking cute.

Kikyo had 'bumped' into him in line at the coffee shop and maybe he could blame that. They had just broke up; after dating all through high school and some of college, she was 'bored and wanted to explore other things.’ What she meant was, she wanted to explore other dicks. After their breakup, he saw her on accident in the library and he almost lost his shit. She had made them wait until they were in college because it was such a huge step in their relationship and then after three days of being single probably fucked the whole football team?!?

Ok, he was still angry about it.  Probably wasn't a whole team, but he was still hurt.

Having her chattering his fucking ear off wasn't helping his mood either so he tuned it out only to hear the girl sitting at a two seater booth trying to keep their argument between them.  She wasn't taking it lying down but she was growing anxious. If the wolf could smell it, he clearly didn't care.

"Inuyasha are you listening to me? What do you think?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, Inuyasha! Hehehe, you're so silly; I was saying we should get back together! I mean, as long as you're not seeing anyone, right? I mean, of course you're not! We love each other-- and it was a huge mistake for us to break up!"

Inuyasha did the only thing he could do; well that was a lie, he did something he had never chosen to do before. Honestly,  he'd never really been in this situation before. Kikyo was his first real girlfriend. First love. First… everything. He thought that was it. Then reality struck like the cruel bitch she was and it fell apart. But he got over it. Kinda. He had a soft spot for Kikyo because she was his first everything. She hadn't been looking for love but found it. Then regretted it thinking she missed out on life. Or whatever.

But right there, in that moment he just couldn't roll over. Not without being cursed or something and thank God they were in public because otherwise she just might with what he had decided he was going to do.

He stepped up to the counter and ordered not one but two of his peppermint coffees and paid. He heard Kikyo’s excitement from behind him and almost laughed.

Almost.

Because shit was seriously about to hit the fan.

He grabbed his cups and Kikyo followed, still yammering on and on until he reached the table with the young woman who looked like she was about to start crying she was so pissed.

"Here you go, babe," Inuyasha said as charmingly as he could.

The girl jumped at his presence. Her big brown doe eyes locked with his and for the briefest moment there was confusion. Then understanding. Then a glint of mischief. Oh fuck. He already liked her.

"Thanks honey! You ready to go?" She asked leadingly.

"Yea," he said ignoring the gaping womon behind him to pick up the other woman's coat from her chair and help her put it on.

"Wa-wait! What the fuck?? You were just with her!" The wolf cried angrily.

"If you were paying attention to our conversation then you would know I never answered her.  I was too busy noticing you were trying to pounce on my girl," Inuyasha growled possessively as he wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulder. Fuck. This totally wasn't him.  What was wrong with him? Ugh fuck, she was probably thinking she just traded one asshole for another. Smooth. Wait-- not smooth, this wasn't a real date or anything.  

When she curled herself into his side he was shocked. If he was human,  he'd probably have a heart attack. Fuck, she smelled good. Like amazing. Shit, nope, he needed to focus! This was about getting her away from the wolf and steering off Kikyo’s advances.

"And he is seeing someone," the girl in his embrace directed her answer to Kikyo. "Me. You clearly didn't appreciate what you had and he moved on."

"Uh! Inuyasha!" Kikyo quivered in distress. "Can't we-- talk about this?? Alone?"

"Sorry Kikyo. I have a date."

"This is such a fucking farce! Who even the fuck are you?! You don't smell like her! She didn't even--"

"Firstly, the name is Inuyasha. Secondly, of course I don't. I respect her. She's young and I wouldn't try anything without her permission," he glowered leering at the wolf for even implying he'd fuck this beautiful creature in his arms without courting her properly first. Shit. No. This was a ruse. Fake.

"Koga, I told you I was seeing someone. It's new, and I'm sorry.  I really am; I just--"

"Kagome you said you weren't looking for anything right now! Why him?? He's a fucking mutt!"

Ahhhhhhhh. How he was going to love kicking this guy’s ass.

"Shut up, Koga! Inuyasha has shown me way more respect and kindness within the first five minutes of knowing me rather than the month you have!"

That was a lie. They were likely going on minute six.

"Inuyasha! You can't be serious! She's inexperienced and with the wolf demon! Come on, all we needed was a break! I know you hate waiting for anything, baby," she said leadingly.

Honestly, he wasn't aroused by her insinuations in the slightest. He wasn't a teenager anymore.  Also while Kikyo had been his first and only, the fact she dumped him to go hoe herself out only to crawl back to him was disgusting.

He understood it was likely 'just sex' and just exploration but while Inuyasha was no prize himself due to his demon heritage...still, he had some pride. Also his dog demon nature felt betrayed. Maybe if she caught him on the night of the new moon he would've taken her back. Fuck, maybe if this was done in private, but not when they were in a coffee shop with a beautiful girl being bullied into dating a mangy wolf.

"Actually, I don't mind waiting for her at all. She's rather… special," he said. And he meant it. What the fuck was wrong with his brain?

Either way, the girl called Kagome didn't flinch or change her position. If anything, and it could have just been his imagination, she sank further into his body. It took everything he had not to rumble. His inner demon wanted to fucking purr now?? He needed to talk to Miroku after this. Maybe even his asshat brother. Because maybe they knew what was wrong with him, and just maybe he wouldn’t need to check himself into an inpatient stay until he cleared his head.

“Mutt, get your hands off my woman!”

“He’s not a mutt! His name is Inuyasha!! Say it with me Koga! In-U-Ya-Sha!” She yelled, slightly stepping away from his body to glower at the wolf demon in front him. Fuck. He was officially in love. And he needed to hear her say that  in a slightly more moaning pleading voice. What?? Yea--he needed to check himself into a psych hospital after this.

“He’s a half-breed Kagome. You can do so much better than scraps--” He was cut off by the loud cracking slap across his cheek. Kagome was not standing directly in front of Koga. Totally out of Inuyasha hold. The distance didn’t help his control. Or his head.

All he could think of was pulling her back to him and ravishing her. Shit. He was screwed. He didn’t want to be in another relationship--or at least he didn’t think he did. This was simply to help the girl and to get Kikyo away from him.

Speaking of the other woman, Kikyo was deadly silent. It made him kind of nervous. What was she plotting? She could be a vengeful person  when pissed off. He slowly turned to face her and was met with her glaring at the girl who was currently putting a wolf demon in his place.

“Kikyo?” He asked worriedly.

“You really want to give up everything we have for this child?”

“Don’t be like that Kikyo--we aren’t together.”

“But Inuyasha, I told you; I made a mistake. Please, let’s just go and figure this whole thing out together.”

The two squabbling finally quieted down behind him and he felt a trembling hand on his chest. He looked back and saw Kagome--almost hurt. But why would she be hurt? Maybe she was just a good actress in this situation. Or maybe she was feeling what he was?

No wait, back track, he wasn’t feeling anything for her. He was just crazy. They just met and learned each other’s names from the other people who were fighting for their attention.

“If you want to go back to Kikyo I won’t be upset… We just met and this is all so new. I won’t make you choose if you aren’t ready--”

“You’re gonna let this animal two-time you Kagome?!”

“Koga will you just shut up!” Kagome yelled. “I’m just saying we are just seeing each other and if he wasn’t set on anything then--”

“Nah, I’m set babe. Let’s get outta here,” he smiled cockily and placed his arm back around her shoulder and led her to the door.

They exited unfollowed but he didn’t drop his arm. When they crossed the street back to campus, he then did drop his arm and walk beside her. Fuck. The silence was killing him. Shit. What does someone say in a situation like that?

“Uhm, thank you, Inuyasha. I appreciate what you did. I hope I didn’t ruin anything with your ex.”

“It’s not a problem. I wasn’t about to let the bastard keep harassing you.”

“I can handle myself, thank you.”

“Yea, looked like it,” he smirked.

She looked up at him and giggled. “So, uhm, my name is Kagome.”

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you but--” he paused. Did that shit head actually follow them?? Was he a fucking stalker?

As subtly as he could he stopped and turned her to face him. She blushed madly as he leaned down to press his forehead to hers as he whispered, “This fuckface is pretty set on you for some reason. He’s just a block behind us.”

She swallowed and exhaled slowly. Shit. His dick was twitching. He had problems. He obviously needed to get laid. How could her peppermint coffee breath smell that wonderful and magic to literally send those kind of signals to his cock?

“How--uhm--how far are you willing to take this?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Kagome.”

“Do you mind walking me to my apartment?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he said softly as the wolf was getting closer. Inuyasha raised his head and kissed the crown of her head. Oh God. He was screwed. Would it be wrong to actually ask out this girl? She was obviously single.

No. No. No… He just got out of a relationship. It’d be dumb to jump right back in. Especially under the pretense this ‘arrangement’ started.

He did notice her sigh as she took his hand and led him towards her apartment. The sigh was… happy. Or at least that’s what he thought it was. But the area her apartment was in was oddly familiar. He’d been here before. Wait a second--

She got her keys out and opened the door then turned to say something when Miroku swung the door open fully.

“Inuyasha!!! What a lovely surprise!”

“Miroku?? You know Inuyasha?” Kagome asked curiously.

“Well of course! He’s my roommate!”

“Wait--you’re--”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Inuyasha groaned. This… this was not happening. This was the girl Miroku had been trying to set him up with. Son of a bitch. The irony of it pissed him off. Almost as much as that goddamn wolf who was still lurking about.

“Get inside,”he pushed Kagome forward past Miroku before shooting him a ‘shut-the-fuck-up’ look.

“What’s wrong??” she asked hurriedly as he closed the door.

“The fucking wolf is still--”

“Oh… he does live in the same complex as us.”

“Koga? He was still bothering you, Kagome?” Miroku's teasing face turned concerned quickly.

“Yes, I was going to get coffee and study when he just showed up at Starbucks again. He wanted to buy me coffee and I made up a lie I was meeting someone--”

“Hence the text Sango and I received, continue,” Miroku explained.

“But he wouldn’t leave well enough alone and then I saw…” she trailed off biting her lip. Oh shit. He needed to bite the lip. FUCK! NO! NO HE DIDN’T!

“A woman was behind Inuyasha--so I didn’t say anything to him at first. Just tried to explain I was busy when he surprised me and brought over a cup of coffee and helped me put my jacket on so we could leave together.” She was omitting the part where he claimed they were seeing each other. Was she embarrassed?? Did she not want to be seen by her friends with a half-demon?

“Oh shit--a woman?? Who?” Miroku smirked.

“Kikyo,” Inuyasha informed dryly.

“Oh reallllllly. And you just--blew her off?”

“I wasn’t about to let the flea bag exploit her.”

“Even if it did ruin your chances at getting back together with the woman you love?” Miroku smirked leadingly. He was going to fucking kill him if he ever returned home.

“Shut up, Miroku.”

“Miroku, I feel bad enough Inuyasha had embarrassed himself by saying he was with me--” Kagome started before Sango emerged from behind her and shoved her.

“What did we talk about Kagome?” Sango said sternly.

“I’m… pretty?”

“And?”

“Any guy would be lucky to have me…” She said it as though there was dirt in her mouth. What the fuck did he walk into?

“That’s right,” Sango nodded her approval. “Hey Yash. What’s up? What did I miss?”

Miroku filled Sango on what was going on as Kagome shrugged out of her coat and downed the rest of her coffee. Inuyasha was drawn to her. Did she put a spell on him? She did exude some reiki--not as much as Kikyo but maybe she had it under more control than his ex.

“That slimy, twisted, asshole--”

“However, it seems Inuyasha acted like they were dating,” he said as he raised his eyebrow. Oh that fucker was sooooooo dead.

“Oh!!! That's wonderful! So we will let you guys get on your date then,” she winked at Kagome who began to protest. Sango obviously didn’t care or wasn’t listening as she tugged Miroku who was smirking at him. Son of a bitch.

Once they were out the door, Kagome exhaled in defeat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for them to put you in this situation,” she said quietly.

“You’re the one stuck with a half-breed,” he spat. She flinched. And then he felt like an asshole.

“What?? Don’t call yourself that! There’s nothing wrong with who you are,” she said as she made her way to the kitchen.

“Yea yea, tell that to the rest of the world.”

“The rest of the world doesn’t matter; it only matters what you think. You have friends who seem like they care about you, too. Does it really matter what everyone else thinks?” She asked as she grabbed two bottles of water and proceeded to stroll over to the couch and sit down.

He just realized he was still awkwardly standing in her entry way when she motioned for him to join her. Taking his coat off, he hung it next to hers and then slowly approached her couch. He sat on the other side to give her some space.

Her eyes looked disappointed as she handed him a water. Why? Or was he imagining it? Or did he wish to honestly see that? Son of a bitch.

“So… did you want to watch tv?” She asked awkwardly.

“That’s fine,” he agreed, trying to break the tension.

She handed him the remote which surprised him. It was her house and he was the one who was kind of imposing. Or at least that’s how he felt. He turned on a movie. Of course it was The Proposal. Of fucking course it was a fake engagement movie.

“So… uhm…” she stammered biting her lip. Damnit she needed to stop doing that before he lost control and tasted the fucking thing himself.

He also noted to himself that he was going to find a girl. That night. Because this intense desire and crazy amount of longing for intimacy was pushing him to the brink of insanity.

“What?” He bit out harshly. Much harsher than he intended but he was fucking frustrated at this point. Her scent was covering him. Her presence was domineering. He needed to take a minute. Swallow his pride. Call his goddamn brother.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk,” she mumbled. Andddddddd now she was crying. He was an asshole. Before he could stop himself, he reached over and grabbed her chin to make her look at him. And then he nuzzled her cheek.

What. Was. He. Doing?!?!? Why was his demon half so--so-- Yea he needed to call Sesshomaru.

“Inuyasha?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just-- do you mind if I make a call really quick? I need to check in with someone,” he said in anonymity. She didn’t need to know he was calling a jackass to ask why he was going crazy.

“Oh my gosh! Did you have to cancel plans because of me?! I’m so sorry! Please, feel free to use my bedroom, bathroom wherever!”

“Keh, no, no, it isn’t a big deal. I’ll just be a second. I’m going outside real quick. I was gonna test something with that wolf anyway,” he said, pulling his face back from her cheek which was now a dusty rose. He bet it would look even better with sweat dripping from it and her eyes half glazed over from lust---and for fuck’s sake!!!!

He leapt over the couch in an instant and opened and closed the door to the porch without further explanation. Grabbing his cellphone out of his pocket he quickly dialed Sesshomaru’s number and sat on the railing to the little deck they had outside of their apartment. He took in the scents and realized the wolf was likely inside still. He was waiting for his prey to exit the apartment. Or rather, for him to leave.

“Takahashi.”

“For fuck’s sake do you not look at the caller ID?”

“Greetings, little brother. What can I assist you with today?”

“You sound chipper.”

“It’s because you’re on speaker and he knows he needs to be nice in front of your nephew,” a feminie voice chimed in.

“Hey Rin,” Inuyasha smirked.

“Hello brother! We miss you! Don’t we, Sesshomaru?”

“What is it you need, little brother? We are a little busy.”

“With my new nephew? I’m sure the brat has you running all over the place.”

“Indeed; he is crawling and finding his way into everything in sight,” Sesshomaru admitted begrudgingly.

“Touga!!! No!!” He heard Rin yell before stammering steps along with a very mischievous giggle. Little monster was definitely giving them trouble. He reminded himself to buy him a very nice Christmas gift.

“Like that for instance…” Sesshomaru sighed.

“You obviously wanted this. You can smell when Rin is in heat,” Inuyasha added.

“Yes, yes, now again, what do you need, Inuyasha?”

“How… how did you know Rin was your mate?”

“The fact you ask that question tells me you met yours.”

“Or I’ve just gone crazy, you jackass.”

“I can assure you that is what it is like,” Sesshomaru said.

“Look, I’m not even sure how to approach this--”

“You dated that miserable woman for quite a few years and you are informing me you have no idea how to court a woman?”

“Shut up asshole. Not like that-- I mean-- We just met. She had a wolf demon trying to hit on her and I acted instinctively and pretended we were dating. And now I’m at her place.”

“Awwww, what a fun story,” Rin chimed in.

“Not really. How do you go from fake dating to actually dating?”

“Tell her she’s your--”

“Rin. I did not tell you that you were mine.”

“Well yea, but I knew. You hated everyone except me.” Inuyasha could literally hear the twinkle in her eyes. And he completely agreed. The asshole hated everyone and everything until she came along and softened up his heart. It was obvious.

“I advise you to get to know her--allow her to get to know you. Actually ask her out,” Sesshomaru replied evenly.

“That’s a good idea too,” Rin cheered.

“Sess… uhm… what about us--”

“TOUGA NO!!!!” Rin cried.

“You have a moment now brother for your sexual question.”

“You already know it, so spill. What the fuck do I do? I can’t stop thinking about her!”

“Practice your self control. Touching her will help alleviate some of your pull towards her. I advise you not to be around her during the full moon. Unless you’ve made progress in the next week that is.”

“I can literally hear your smirk,” Inuyasha groaned.

“Sesshomaru?? Are you teasing him??” Rin questioned returning to the phone.

“Yea, punish him,” Inuyasha grinned.

“Mmmmm, maybe I will,” Rin replied happily.

“Ew. Goodbye. Thanks asshat. Thank you Rin.”

“Take care Inu!” Rin responded before the phone hung up.

Inuyasha sighed. At least he got some answers. Some advice. He could use it. Now he needed to change the fake dating to… real dating. But was he really ready for that? He was doing some really weird, shit he had never done when he was with Kikyo.

He never let himself use his demonic instincts with her. It wasn't that she hadn’t realized he was a half demon like he could actually hide that tidbit. But he could tell she didn’t like his claws, she never touched his ears, and she did not like him biting her, let alone licking her. He originally thought maybe that was why she wanted to explore; the fact their sex was rather… vanilla. But he had thought that was what she wanted since she deterred anything else.

Now his instincts were all over the fucking place. One thing was clear though; he needed to be around this girl.

Returning inside he saw her biting the fucking lip again until she turned to meet him and smiled softly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yea, I was just talking to my brother, his wife, and their pup.”

“Oh that’s so nice. I’m sorry if I made you cancel those plans,” she apologized.

“Nah, they have their hands full. Pup’s learning to crawl. Amongst other things,” he smirked remembering the loud crash that played over the phone along with Sesshomaru’s exasperation.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“So… tell me about yourself.” Smooth. Real smooth.

“Oh--uhm--... well this is my first year here. Dorms were full when I finally picked a school but luckily they were okay with me rooming with Sango in her apartment.”

“Couldn't’ decide where to go?”

“Honestly I was avoiding the guy I had been seeing in high school.”

“What’s with you and guys not taking no for an answer?”

“Hahaha, you got me,” she laughed nervously. “But he finally picked and so I picked here. Thankfully I really wanted to come here anyway since Sango was here.”

“What’s your major?”

“Education--I want to be a elementary school teacher. I love kids.”

His inner demon was probably going to explode. Swallowing he shifted on the couch so his leg lightly touched her own. That bastard was right; it did help a little bit.

“That’s uh--cool.”

“What about you?”

“Engineering. I like to use my hands and shit. Not so good with the words and stuff.”

“Hahaha, you seem to be doing okay to me,” she smiled brightly. Damn. She was fucking goregous.

“Yea, it’s not an all the time thing so don’t get used to it.”

“What?” Oh fuck. Yea, shouldn’t have said that. Point proven. Dumb dog not good with words.

“I meant if you, ya know, wanna keep this going so the wolf doesn’t keep trying shit on ya,” he explained blushing.

“O-oh, but… You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to put you out or anything. I know you just broke up with Kikyo. Miroku told me a little about everything… I’m sure you want to go sow some wild oats or whatever.” Nope just yours. Damnit.

“Nah; I’m not that type of guy. What about you? Would I be holding you back from anything?”

“Oh no. I uh--” her blush was so distracting. So beautiful. So hot. “I wasn’t sure I was ready for all that. I’ve only dated one guy and he was… uh-- gosh this sounds so mean but boring. He was so nice, and attentive and just a great guy but there was no--SPARK!”

“Huh. Sorry to hear that,” he mumbled as he actually wasn’t that sorry. It gave him the opportunity to woo her. Okay, he needed to not talk or hang out with Miroku anymore.

“Alright; sounds like we’re stuck with each other.”

“You don't need to say it like that. Honestly, I appreciate your help but--”

“Do you not want to be seen with me?”

“What?!? That’s not it at all! I figured after dating someone as gorgeous and beautiful as Kikyo you’d be bored with someone as blah as me! E-Even if we’re not actually dating. You know what I mean.”

“Trust me. You’re an upgrade. You have five times the personality as she does. Also, not to be crude, but ten times the body.”

He smirked at her hot and heavy flush and… oh fuck. The scent of her cinnamon spicy arousal was just almost too much for him to bear. He had to think. Quickly. He stretched his arm over the back of the couch and kissed her forehead.

“But this isn’t--” Fuck he couldn’t even say it wasn’t real because to him it was. “We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But we have plenty of excuses to see each other. Sorry I’ve made you the third wheel with horny and the princess.”

“It’s fine. I understand--Miroku said Kikyo was very important to you but you’d come around,” she said as she twirled her hair nervously.

"What else he tell ya?"

"Nothing." That was far too quick an answer.

"Try again; I smell lies just as well as the flea bag downstairs."

"Just that… Oh Gods you're going to kill him."

"Already on my to do list."

"Just you're a big puppy and he'd think we'd be good friends. We’d be good for each other, ya know? Both kinda fresh out of breakups and, yea..." Yep. He was dead. D.E.A.D.

"He's not wrong but neither are you.  He is dead. The moment he walks into our apartment again."

"So… we're gonna just uhh, keep fake dating?"

"Sure. Get to know each other.  Maybe even branch into actually being friends. Who knows, where it could lead." He hadn’t meant to say that.  Damnit.

"I uh, I'd like that," she admitted.

His heart stopped. She would like that? Really? This beautiful feisty little kitten would wanna go out with him? He looked down at her and she was smiling nervously with that damn bottom lip in-between her teeth. He bet his cock would look just as good as--

Nope. Not yet.

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

It'd been a good couple of weeks. The farce was well taken by everyone.  No one batted an eye. Well, no one but Kikyo and Koga.

Inuyasha had taken to walking Kagome to and from classes. They still stopped and got coffee, usually getting it to go since the wolf was present--waiting. They often ended up watching movies after their day was done at her place. Studied at the library together. They went out to dinner here and there but usually ate at home with their friends.

Even though it looked like to others it was going fast, it was oddly perfect to them. Even if it wasn't all true.

But in the weeks they had shared together, he learned almost everything he could about her. While she was content with companionable silence, she also was not one to hide anything. He learned about her family, likes, dislikes, pet peeves, history with men in general. He still hadn’t really figured out why she was so self-conscious but she stopped that around him.

He definitely classified them as friends at that point. He also honestly considered them dating. Even though maybe she didn’t. He was too afraid to ask. Especially when things were going so well.

She never seemed bothered by the intimacy--even behind closed doors. He always had his arm around her shoulders, their legs close and brushing against each other. He often kissed her lightly on the crown of her head, temple, sometimes even got ballsy enough to kiss her cheek. She has reciprocated a couple times out in public, but there was what was confusing. Why not when they were alone? Or at least correct him? But what was odd was the fact she sank into his chest as he held her shoulders, twirled his hair in her fingers, and when he did kiss her on the cheek, she’d smiled this beautiful nervous grin. Like he had told her he loved her.

Which he hadn’t. Not yet. But fuck, he did.

And it was crazy.

Another week passed, their routine remained the same. But he knew he was forgetting something…

They were out for a stroll after their dinner at a casual restaurant. She had decided on burgers and fries. Her go-to meal before a stressful exam or presentation. He already knew she’d regret it later and curl into his side moaning about how her stomach hurt. Yea, he didn’t like she put herself through that but fuck, if he didn’t love being the one to comfort her.

The sun was just setting when he felt it. He stopped mid stride by the fountain in the park. She glanced at him, still holding his hand and looked worried.

“Inuyasha?”

“Damnit, I completely forgot…”

“What’s wrong???”

“You’ll see in a second,” he grimaced. He felt his aura drain, his ears shift down, his claws and fangs shorten, even his hair tingled as it turned midnight black while the sun disappeared. He opened his now-violet eyes and saw Kagome gape at him fearfully.

She released his hand and went right for the ears--fuck they were just as sensitive in this form as his other. “Oh my Gods!! Are you alright?!? What happened??? Did I purify you??”

“Relax Kagome, this happens every new moon. I just forgot tonight was that time in the lunar cycle. You keep me so distracted.”

“Oh Gods… I’m so sorry,” she said, tearing up.

“What?? What's wrong??”

“I-I-I messed up your schedule.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” he said brushing his hands against her eyes, catching her tears. “I love spending time with you.” Oh fuck. He forgot his mouth ran away with him while he was human. Stupid human emotions.

“Y-You do?”

“Of course, you idiot. Why on earth would I be with you night and day if I didn’t?”

“I-I mean--” she looked nervous.

“Yea?” He pressed.

“O-Our arrangement.”

“You really think--”

“I knew you were faking everything,” a voice came from behind them. Inuyasha turned and pushed Kagome behind him.

“Kikyo, what are you doing here?” He asked, less than pleased by her appearance. Not that she really altered his feelings about Kagome. No, if anything it oddly made them so much clearer. He had originally thought if he was human it would have jumbled things up, but it only made his feelings for Kagome clearer.

“I wanted to see if I could talk to you after you dropped her off this evening.”

“Have you been following us?” Kagome asked, slightly horrified.

“Of course I have you stupid girl. He’s my boyfriend. I needed to make sure he didn’t cheat on me.”

Kagome tried to distance herself from him but he wouldn’t let her. He gripped tightly onto her hip and growled slightly.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyo said warningly.

“No Kikyo. We broke up. Correction: you broke up with me. I moved on. I’m sorry you think we are still together for some odd delusional reason but even though I’m human tonight that doesn’t mean that you’ll persuade me into getting back together with you. I’m with Kagome. End of story.”

“I overheard your conversation, Inuyasha. You have an ‘arrangement’.”

“One of which we are dating. So mind your own business,” he glowered.

“Inuyasha--” Kagome started before Inuyasha turned to face her.

“Let’s go,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Inuyasha! Another step and we are completely through! I will forgive this act but if you leave--”

“Don’t forgive me then. Kagome’s friendship is more important than a fake relationship with you.”

They walked in silence back to Kagome’s place until they got to her door. She dug in her bag for her keys and she was trembling. What could she be upset about?

“What’s wrong Kagome?” He asked, stilling her shaking hands with his own.

“I--I never wanted you to have to choose.”

“Yea well, she did. Even then though, it was you. Your friendship has meant more to me than our relationship ever has…”

“You’re being… really honest. Open. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yea, just human,” he snorted.

“What does that mean?” She asked as she finally unlocked the door leading the way into her apartment.

“It means my emotions are freer now. That I say more shit without thinking-- actually that part is no different. It just means shit I usually hide or am reluctant to share often comes up like word vomit now.”

“Oh,” she pondered. “Would it be mean if we played twenty questions then?”

That beautiful smirk she gave lit up his heart. And cock. Wait--he was human. He could control this better now. Sort of. Maybe. Damnit. Humans were hornier than demons. But he wasn’t compelled… Damnit would he ever not be screwed?

“It would but I won’t be opposed if it’ll make you happy.”

“Do… you mean that?”

“Question 1--yes. I do.”

“Hahaha, okay,” she laughed bouncing down on the couch. “Question 2-- why do you wanna make me happy?”

“Uhm…” he blushed hotly. “Because you’re my fr-friend.”

“Why’d you stutter?”

“That counts--because you are my friend. It makes me nervous to admit that.”

“Why?”

“You would ask all the why questions… Because it means you’re important to me.”

It was her turn to flush when she pried again, “Why does that make you nervous though?”

“It means I could lose you,” he confessed.

“I’m not Kikyo though… You won’t lose me,” she said breathily. Oh fuck she was right there in front of him.

“Not now, but eventually. Demons have different life spans.”

“What do you mean?”

“We live longer, don’t get sick, all that stuff…”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-six--I was born this century. My father though, he was centuries old before he died.”

“How’d he die?”

“Freak priestess accident. My mother never really talked about it. I never asked about it.”

“What about your mother?”

“She died of cancer.”

“She--she didn’t take your father’s lifespan?”

“Are you asking if they mated?”

“Uhm, if that’s what it’s called?”

“She did--that’s why she got cancer and died early. Or at least that’s what the doctors said.”

Her tears hurt him. He didn’t want her pity. “Hey, don’t cry--”

“I’m sorry, I just-- I’m so sorry. I didn’t know and--”

“Shhhh,” he said, pulling her into a full embrace. She buried her head into his sweater and just cried. She was just crying for him. There was no pity. It was like she was shedding the tears he never allowed himself to cry. Her empathy held no bounds. He was so screwed. The love he held for her only grew that night.

Especially when she fell asleep in his arms and he carried her to bed. She muttered his name so softly and whined at the loss of his contact. He leaned down to kiss her forehead just before her eyes opened tentatively. He almost missed it; but he saw those beautiful carmel eyes flutter right before they squeezed shut again. If he had his demon sense he would have been able to see it better. To hear her heart rate and breathing. To be able to just confess.

But it was the new moon and he was still a coward. He didn’t want to hear the potential no in her answer about actually dating. The fluster from her about being his mate.

Smiling, he pressed his lips to forehead like he had planned. Then he did the only thing he was brave enough to do at the moment-- he lightly pressed his lips to hers and then quickly left the room before she could reveal to him she was awake.

He was so fucked.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

It was a couple days after that he ended up meeting Kagome at the coffee shop because he had a final that ran longer than he originally thought. He immediately regretted it having smelt the wolf the moment he opened the coffee house door.

Kagome locked eyes with him from their booth and smiled brightly. She waved him over happily. He almost forgot Koga was there--sitting in his spot across from her. He was fucking livid.

“Inuyasha! How’d your final go?” She asked as if Koga was not just sitting there glaring at him.

“Fine,” he clipped. Her brown eyes blinked at him and she tilted her head in confusion from his shortness.

“Here--I got your favorite,” she proceeded pushing his cup to him as she scooted in the booth. Making room for him. He smirked. Show time.

“Thanks babe,” he said sitting next to her wrapping his arm around her. As she turned back to look at Koga he got cocky. He wanted the wolf to know his place in Kagome’s life. Just a friend. Inuyasha was her man. Even if it wasn’t completely official yet. But Koga didn’t need to know that tidbit.

He grabbed her chin and initially she looked confused. Then understanding dawned on her as he lowered his mouth to hers. He saw her eyes widen before they fell to half-mast before he closed his and kissed her. Whoa. He thought her breath was enticing but fuck. She tasted like cherry candy. It took everything not to swipe his tongue along that lip of hers… EVERYTHING.

Pulling back he heard the tiniest whimper of disappointment from her, making him grin all the more. When she opened her glazed over eyes, she stared at him like she was begging him for more. The clearing of a throat across from them broke the spell and while he growled in annoyance she flushed from embarrassment. She proceeded to press her head into his chest, which he didn’t complain about in the slightest. Though he could see the anger and jealousy rolling off Koga in waves.

The conversation was obviously shortened with his presence but Kagome in no way shape or form felt uncomfortable. If anything, it was the opposite. She was beyond comfortable. The happiness she exuded rolled off of her in waves. He could tell the wolf wasn’t exactly excited about it either. But he didn’t say anything. They merely talked about their classes. What they were doing during their winter break. So on and so forth.

On their walk back to her place, he noticed she was biting her lip. More than usual. He wasn’t really sure why. When they finally got there, she invited him like usual and then disrobed her coat and made her way to the couch. She paused and turned to face him as he turned around from taking off his jacket.

“What’s up?” He asked, finally getting slightly irritated from the aura she was exuding.

“Uh--can I ask you something?”

“Yea?”

“It’s about… us.”

“Uh huh… well, spill then.”

“Do… do you like me?”

“What kind of dumb question is that? Of course I like you. We’re friends.” That was probably an asshole answer but it answered the question in the vagueness he needed to convey. He didn’t want to freak her out--it has been maybe a month. He didn’t know he had been in love with Kikyo for a year. Yea, mates were different but shit--she was still human.

“That’s not--ugh! That’s not exactly what I meant. I meant do you like me?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“I just don’t want to misread things,” she admitted.

“What would you be misreading?”

“Inuyasha you’ve kissed me twice now! I just--I want to know! Do. You. Like. ME?!”

“So you were awake!!”

“You knew?!?”

“Yea!! You slammed your eyes closed so quick and hard I was expecting you to have fucking whiplash!”

“And you kissed me anyway?!! Why!?!”

“Are you that fucking stupid!?” He questioned stepping towards her until they were maybe a foot apart.

“I just want to know!!! I don’t want to be heartbroken because you don’t love me like I love you!!!” Her eyes widened and she muttered, “Shit.” She turned around and tried to walk away but he grabbed her and swung her back around.

“You’re an idiot,” he smirked down at her blanched face.

“Excuse me?!”

“I thought I was being obvious--at least for me! Do you think I go around walking with my arm slung domestically on any girl? Do you think I kiss anyone on the crown of their head? Do you think I kiss anyone??? Does that sound anything like me at all? Use your fucking head.”

“Inuyasha--stop dodging the question!!!’

“Fine I fucking love you too! I was drawn to you the moment I saw you in the coffee shop and smelt your distress. Wanna know why??? Because you’re my fucking mate! But you’re a human! I didn’t want to freak you out, scare you away, and ruin my only chance with you. That’s why I went along with the fake dating, that’s why I wanted to get to know you, and fuck it’s the main reason I can’t seem to not fucking want to touch you!!! Happy now?!?!”

She grabbed his tendrils and pulled his face down to hers; she kissed the absolute fuck outta him. Holy. Shit. She actually made the move. She was kissing him. And by Gods was it the best damn kiss he ever had.

He felt her tongue press demandingly against his lips and he eagerly let her in. She roamed his mouth and it took all he had not to slam her against the wall and rut the shit outta her. Especially when she moaned when she stroked his fang. Her extra spicy scent came alive and she was clinging to him like a freakin’ spider monkey. Her hands were wrapped around his neck, woven in his hair, and her thick perfect muscular thighs were entangled in his own legs. He should slow this down right? Give her an option. Because anything further he won’t be able to stop. His cock was already pressing into her abdomen--soon to be her sex if she continued to try and climb him like a fucking tree. Not that he minded. It was hotter than the seventh hell.

He pushed her away and whimpered. WHIMPERED. What was she doing to him??

“Kagome--we don’t have to--”

“Shut up please--I’ve wanted you from day 1. But originally this was-- well I actually don’t know what it was because clearly it wasn’t fake. Even though it was. I don’t know. But for the love of God pleaseeeeeeee stop talking and being rational for---however long it takes to have sex and just--”

He interrupted her by slamming his mouth back into hers and swallowed her loud moan. Lifting her up with ease, his cock aligned with her clit. His hips were thrusting into hers. She was grinding into him. Fuck. It was like he was a goddamn virgin all over again. He thought he was going to blow his load right then.

But the last thing he needed to do was fuck her right here on the couch. No--Miroku and Sango would be back for dinner probably within the next hour. If it was gonna happen, they needed to get to her bedroom. That way, he could try to keep her quiet until dinner was fully cooked as he ravished her beautiful body for the next couple of hours.

She was a virgin. She deserved the fucking best.

He carried her to the bedroom and slowly lowered her onto the bed, following so their bodies never lost contact. His mouth devoured her in a way he had never kissed anyone before. He was nipping her, suckling her, shit. She really didn’t care that he was a half demon.

That’s when it dawned on him where her crafty little hands were headed. The moment he felt her dainty soft fingers caress his ears. That's when the rumble came. He was fucking blissed out. If he could, he’d lay here all night. Fuck dinner. Fuck sleep. Fuck anything that had literally nothing to do with them not touching.

Her giggle brought him back to consciousness.

“Too good?” She purred. Goddamn. She should be against the law. She was too much.

“Fuck--you’re never gonna leave this bed.”

“Mmmmm, good. I don’t want to if that means you’ll stay here.”

“Deal,” he said, diving back on her. He took his mouth and moved it down her jaw. Then her neck, then--oh shit they still had clothes on. That could be easily fixed. “Do you like this shirt?”

“Huh?” Oh good--at least he had the same intoxicating effect on her as she did on him.

“Shirt--do you like it?”

“I’m confused by the question,” she admitted pressing his face back into the junction between her neck and shoulder. Keh. That was all he really needed for an answer. His claws ripped through her shirt and his hands immediately began kneading and tugging on her breasts.

“Ahhhhhh, Inu---Gods,” she wailed.

“Like that Ka-Go-Me?”

“Yesssss,” she whined writhing beneath him. Her hips were stick bucking up against his. He knew what she needed. His ears stood at attention as his hand dipped between them and his fingers sunk into her moist folds.

Her breath hitched as she whined pitifully as he toyed with her clit. He pinched, circle, kneaded, and pressed hard seeing what action would push her over the edge. The mixture of the moments seemed to be doing it though--she was panting. Between her nipple being squeezed, her neck being ravished by his teeth and tongue, and her nub being stimulated she was lost to the world around her.

“Cum for me, Kagome,” he demanded softly into her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and yanking softly.

Her cry was fucking magical. Musical. She should be a goddamn singer. Shit. They needed to get rid of some clothing. Scratch that; they needed to get rid of all their clothing. He toyed with her a little more until she fully came back and was kissing his cheek. He withdrew his hand and toyed with the button on her jeans. She helped him by taking over and unbuttoning. He finished unzipping and pushed them down with her help as she arched off the bed. If that was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

He undid his own pants as he sat up slowly, pulling away from her wandering hands. He was shocked when he pulled his shirt over his head and saw her sitting there with him. Her hands refused to cease their movements as she traced the lines of his abs. He groaned but wanted her to explore. Trying to remain still, he realized her breasts were still encased in her bra.

“Do you like that bra?” He smirked cheekily.

“It’s a set--I’ll take it off,” she huffed, annoyed that she was going to have to stop her ministrations. He chuckled and set forth taking off his jeans and boxers by rising from the bed. Her eyes were like saucers as she stared at his twitching cock.

“Like what you see?” he asked, trying to break the tension. She didn’t answer. Was she scared? Turned off? He was pretty sure he looked normal…

She startled him when she was on the edge of her bed and slowly extended her hand to stroke him. He flinched initially which made her retract her hand. Shaking off his shock, he pulled her hand back to touch him. OH fuck. Had he ever had sex? Did he dream about losing his virginity?? Fuck her hand was amazing. He was nervous now to enter her. Maybe he should let her get round one out of the way first. Honestly he definitely should be getting round two started for her to make sure she was wet enough to enter her without totally hurting her.

Her hand continued its work until suddenly he felt it encased with wet fucking heat. Her mouth. Her mouth was on his goddamn fucking dick. Holy Gods. Shit. Fuck. Don’t stop. Wait--did he say that out loud? Likely not coherently. It probably was a gurgling sound mixed with her name. Maybe even syllables. He wasn’t sure. Nothing was actually processing that well when her fucking tongue was swirling around his tip and licking off the pre-cum that leaked out.

He needed to focus. He didn’t want her to choke on his cock. Even though her little breathy wet sounds on were literally killing him, he honestly didn’t want to hurt her or make her gag. He needed to control himself and NOT thrust. Nope. Self-control. Self--

Her teeth were scrapping him. Oh for fuck’s sake. He tapped her and muttered cuming. Or at least he thought that’s what he said. It could have been that he was a cat. That perfect little mouth, her slender tiny hands that were cupping his balls were making him forget his damn name.

She hummed and that officially did him in. He exploded in her mouth, his hands threaded through her hair, and he gently pushed himself back and forth in his mouth as she drank him in. All of him. And that was fucking hot enough to keep him hard.

But he needed to take care of her next. He officially owed her like ten orgasms. Because that was his best one he had ever fucking had.

Oh, and the little crafty little vixen looked up at him with eyes so full of mayhem then licked her lips. Yea, nope, he had to wipe that little smirk off her mouth.

He pushed her back onto her back on the bed and then took her underwear by the sides and slid them down her legs. Once they were fully down, he began kissing up her calves, licking and nipping her thighs until he laid between them and pulled them up over her shoulders.

“Please, Inuyasha,” she begged.

“Only because you said please,” he replied before licking between her folds. She cried out blissfully. Gods, she was so sensitive. He was loving it. To be fair, she made him melt like butter in heat too. Maybe that was the power of mateship.

He used his tongue to penetrate her first making her whimper and arch off the back. Barely holding in his laugh, he held her hip firmly in one hand. His other hand took his tongue’s place as he shifted to circle her jewel. He inserted one finger first, then two, then finally three until she was pulsing around him. Her whimpers, whines, groans, begging kept him almost unbearably hard. He found himself grinding himself into her mattress for some relief. Once she came he was going to fuck her. He had to. Well, after he asked her--one last time.

Speaking the action into life, she came with a scream of his name. Fucking. Music. To. His. Ears. He maintained contact with his fingers as he slunk his way back up to her mouth and kissed her back to life.

Once she was responding and humming her approval, he retracted his finger and paused in his actions.

“Are you sure about this Kagome?”

“Inuyasha please, I need you. I want you so badly it hurts,” she pleaded.

“This isn’t--”

“Oh my God why am I begging you to have sex with me???” She was actually crying. He needed to calm her down. Jesus Christ.

“Hey hey, it’s not that I don’t want to. Trust me--I want to. Fuck do I want you, Kagome. You’re perfect. I just didn’t want to rush you--this--I know how this shit started. I just didn’t wanna put you out.”

“We love each other right??”

“I mean--yes--”

“Then how are we rushing,” she breathed, kissing him gently. That kiss was all the encouragement he needed. He lined up to her entrance and slowly poked to make sure she was serious. That she wouldn’t stop him. If anything, he felt her try to edge downward to take him in making him chuckle.

He finally snapped his hips forward and destroyed her hyman. After swallowing her gasp and cry, he removed his mouth and roamed her face kissing her cheeks, temples, forehead and then laved her tears that spilled from her eyes.

She finally twisted, albeit a little awkwardly, as if she was trying to get used to the feeling of being so full of him, and then groaned. Yep. Nope. He couldn’t control the buck he sent back in reply even if he wanted to. Her moan of reply was enough to make him keep going.

Her hot little body responded to every thrust he gave her with her own. He began picking up pace and he was shocked she was able to keep up with him. But her whimpers told him it wasn’t enough. He had never tried this, but, then again, he was doing a lot of things with Kagome he had never tried before.

He moved his hands that had been cradling her face to her thighs and lifted her ass off the mattress and sat up. Her answering wail and hands clenching onto his arms were enough to keep him going. He felt her walls tightening on his hard cock that was thrusting in and out of her tight area. Watching what he was doing to her was almost too much--but she was close. Luckily, he had large enough hands where he merely had to just adjust to use one of his thumbs while keeping a tight grip on her hips to press against her swollen overly sensitive and excited nub. Two strokes was all it took until her walls were clamping down on him and her voice was being sung to the neighbors upstairs and downstairs of her apartment.

He moved one arm to swing around her back so she sitting atop him as he kept fucking her. He buried his head into her neck and groaned.

“Kagome--I’m gonna--”

“Come for me,” she panted.

“I’m gonna mark you--” he gritted out of his elongated fangs. His only response was a moan as she shifted to tilt her bare open neck towards his mouth. Fuck. Did he mention she was absolutely in every way shape and form perfect?

He clamped down on her neck and drove himself into her one final time before he came inside her. When he finally came down from his orgasm, he realized her mark had been cleaned and shown like the demonic markings he had on his cheeks.

“Kagome?”

“Hmmm?” she hummed happily stroking his cheek to bring his face to hers.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmmmm,” she purred, kissing him. Fuck. He was perfectly screwed.

They spent the next hour strengthening their newly formed bond. He kept trying to swallow her groans, moans, wails, whatever she gave but he began failing because she brought out his own.

They finally emerged for dinner with a very brightly blushing Sango and a wickedly smirking Miroku. Kagome was bashful but Inuyasha only expelled confidence and pride. At dinner, they chatted, confirmed what they had done, and decided a celebration was in order.

What started out as a charade, ended with the most real thing Inuyasha had ever felt in his life. Kagome. The most perfect woman he could have ever had the pleasure of calling his.  

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha au #inuyasha x kagome #inu x kag #inukag #smut smut smut

[the-new-fanfic-order]

Buttercups and Bloodstains {Part II}

Author: Zoe

(A/N: Hope everyone’s lockdown is going okay and everyone is safe!)

Mobster! Obi-Wan x Reader

Plot Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn’t consider himself a mob boss. More or less, the leader of a vigilante group against a ruthless political figure by the name of Dooku, and the rival group that didn’t take lightly to trespassing on their territory. He especially doesn’t understand why this mob seems to congregate around a certain flower shop owned by a pretty girl. An unsuspecting front for the most powerful woman in the territory.

If there’s one thing Obi-Wan never considered, it’s going into rival territory for flowers. 

Flowers of all things.

The things he does for his protege. He taught him how to be a gentleman, but now he’s looking around for a bouquet because Anakin thought a few flowers picked from the park was good enough. He shakes his head, looking around, knowing he taught him better than that. He should have let him figure it out himself, let him embarrass himself in front of the Senator.

No. No, he couldn’t do that to him. He may be a mob boss, but he’s not cruel. He spots a flower shop, noticing a few members on this side of town around it. Almost protecting it.

It could be seen as noble. Men known for bloodshed protecting the few pure things left.

“Hello there.” Obi-Wan nods, taking off his hat courteously.

“You here for trouble, Kenobi?” One stares him down, and Obi-Wan can swear he can see his trigger finger twitching on the right side of his hip.

“None at all. I’m only here for the flowers.”

“A funeral?” Another growls, a glint of brass shining off his knuckles in the afternoon sun.

He shakes his head, simply putting his hat back on and opening his coat. “I’m shopping for a friend. And I am unarmed.”

They look between each other, before finally letting up as he closes his coat. “Thank you, gentlemen.” He opens the door, the bell jingling to an empty shop.

“...Anyone?”

“Sorry! Sorry, I’m here!”

You run out from the back, smoothing down your apron. “I could barely hear the bell from back there! Can I help yo-“ You freeze, seeing the man at the counter. “...You’re Obi-Wan Kenobi. Aren’t you?”

“You know of me?”

“...I do. You look different than I thought.” You note, as he lets out a light chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling good-naturedly.

“How was I supposed to look?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. More scarred, maybe a different hair color?”

“You’re thinking of my protege.” He hums. “He visits this side of town more than I do.”

“Well, it’s good to meet the man behind the name.”

“You’re not… scared?” He furrows his brows when you shake his hand like meeting a new friend.

“Why would I be?” You tilt your head slightly, leaning into the naive act. “The mob’s everywhere, and I can’t complain if the ones here protect my store.”

“Why is that?”

“I do a lot of their flowers.” You answer without hesitation. “Funerals, weddings, I actually did some for one of their daughter’s birthday parties.”

“Nobody realizes how important a florist is when it comes to events until they’re in the thick of it.”

“I’m just glad that my work is appreciated here.” You smile. “...Oh! Right, anyway, I’m getting off track. How can I help you out today, Mr. Kenobi?”

“I’d like a bouquet. A friend doesn’t exactly know how to shop for a woman, I’m doing him a favor.”

“That’s very kind, considering the reputation mob bosses tend to have. Any idea on the flowers?” You ask. “What do you want the bouquet to say?”

“Say?”

“There’s a whole language of flowers.” You note. “Different flowers and different colors have different meanings. Put the right ones together and you’ll have a message hidden in plain sight.”

He strokes his chin, raising a brow. ‘This could be useful. Maybe this is why they protect this shop.’

“They’re old friends. From childhood, they haven't seen each other in ten years.” He takes his hat off again, running his hand through his hair. “And he’s not very subtle about being attracted to her.”

“Understood.” You chuckle, picking up some flowers. 

“May I ask…” he follows you around the store. “Which flowers mean what? I’m curious myself.”

“I didn’t think someone like you would be interested in something so niche.” You glance up at him, surprised.

“It takes something special to captivate my interest.” He answers, in a matter of fact tone. 

“Well…” You look back down, your cheeks slightly warm before you shake it off. “These are chrysanthemums. Red and white are good for this occasion.”

“How so?”

“Red symbolizes love, much like many of the flowers, but mixed with white, it conveys loyalty. And if we mix it with a little bit of honeysuckle for devotion, and lots of daffodils for happiness… I think we have ourselves a bouquet. And you know what?” You wink at him. “I’ll add some sweet peas for luck.”

“Can people send messages with flowers? As in genuine messages?” He asks, tracing a gloved hand along the thorny stem of an orange rose.

“Technically.” You reply, knowing he’s fishing for information. “It's no proper worded message, but people can send flowers to tell them they received a message, a letter on its way, warnings, congratulations, even yes or no answers. Vague messages, but if the recipient knows the deeper meaning of it, it can be a really pretty way of communication.”

“Interesting… I never knew about this before.”

“It’s not exactly common knowledge.” You chuckle, as he takes his wallet out.

“How much?”

“For you? I’ll give you the first time discount. Keeps you coming back.” You wink, as he smiles slightly, putting a few bills back into his wallet before handing you the rest.

You ring him up before passing him the bouquet back. “You have a good day. Hope she likes the flowers!”

“Wish my protege luck, not me. And I’ll be back, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” He hums, before leaving the shop.

“So have you, Kenobi. So have you…” You take a notebook out. “I should start keeping tabs on his flowers.”

You write in your notebook, putting a date, a bullet point, and pressed flowers into it.

Bouquet for Obi-Wan’s second in command. To be given to _____.

Red and White Chrysanthemums: Love and Loyalty

Honeysuckle: Devotion

Daffodils (more than one): Loyalty

Sweet Pea: Luck in Love

Flowers Featured in Chapter

Orange Rose: Fascination

#mob au #mobster au #obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan X reader #mobster!obi-wan x reader

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Could/Should/Did: Steve Rogers-Intro

Intro

Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 1180

Summary: Based off a oneshot I did a while back. Mash-up between Marvel and DC. Reader is Deathstroke’s daughter that works with him as a mercenary. A happenstance meeting in a coffee shop leads to a relationship with Steve Rogers of all people.

“Excuse me, miss?” a male voice called your attention away from what you were doing.

Casually minimizing the tab of information about your next target, you looked over at the man. Only to immediately feel your heart stutter when you recognized the one and only Steven Grant Rogers of all people standing next to you in the little coffee shop you’d decided to stop in. You almost reached for your phone to warn your father of your impending arrest, but the innocent look on the Captain’s face halted that idea before it even fully took hold.

“Can I help you?” you asked calmly. If he was here alone to cause you trouble, you were fairly sure you could take him. If the other Avengers were hidden around, you didn’t stand a chance anyway. No need to panic either way.

“Sorry to bother you, but is this seat taken?”

Your eyes skimmed around the room, stopping at each empty table pointedly. “I’m going to have to ask why before I agree to anything.”

In your pocket your phone buzzed. You ignored it for now.

Rogers chuckled awkwardly, redness rising up his neck--quite adorably if you were being honest. “Ah. Busted. See, my friend has been mildly stalking me on our days off to make sure I’m actually trying to get used to, well, everything. Is that weird?”

You smirked. “Just a little, though it would be even stranger if I didn’t already know who you are, Mr. Rogers.”

That cute little blush rose even higher. “Oh darn. I didn’t even introduce myself? My ma would be appalled.” He offered a little wave. “Steve Rogers.”

“Don’t worry; I won’t tell if you don’t,” you winked. “Pull up a seat, Steve. I’ll be your human contact for the day.” Now that I know I’m not gonna meet the business end of that shield of yours. “I’m  Y/N Wilson.” A common enough last name, so you doubted it would ring any alarms in his head. Plus, you were the least known of your particular Wilson family; no one knew you existed (as far as you knew), let alone your name.

~

Little did you know that decision to let him join you would launch you into the best relationship of your life. One cup of coffee became two became dinner became sleeping over until one day you realized that he’d come straight to your apartment to change and shower after a mission. Somehow, your homes had blended to the point where you both called your (admittedly quite large) apartment home without you noticing.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asked as he joined you one the couch and kissed you on the temple.

“We basically live together,” you stated. “Why don’t we make it official?”

A grin spread across his face, seemingly making his blue eyes glow. “I’d love that.”

As with everything in this relationship, it was just that easy.

~

It wasn’t until he was moved in and putting things away (what few hadn’t already migrated over here, anyway) that Steve noticed anything that would make him question you. He bumped the bookshelf and somehow it slid to the side to reveal an alarming arsenal displayed in a hidden case. Guns, swords, knives, bombs, you name it; it was practically one of SHIELD’s armories.

Several people had questioned if he was, perhaps, moving too fast with you even though it’d been over a year. That he didn’t know you well enough.

Tony’s voice echoed in his head from when his friend heard about the move, “Hell, Steve, you don’t even know what she does for a living! I can’t even find any significant records of her! You haven’t met her family!”

Maybe they’d had a point, loathe as Steve was to even think that.

He reached for his phone. You’d said you were going on a trip for work, whatever that was, but still . . . the gun case was worrying enough that he hit the call button beside your name.

“Wilson!” you answered, sounding out of breath. A pop sounded, almost like a gunshot.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, worry and apprehension bleeding into his tone despite himself. “Bad time?”

“You could say that.” More pops. “What’s up?” That levity in your voice was forced, he could tell.

“I found something strange as I was putting my stuff up.”

“Oh?”

“The wall of guns behind your bookshelf?”

Even your breath on the other side of the call froze. “Steve--”

A loud, gruff-sounding male voice suddenly shouted, “Y/N, get down!” Then there were the telling sounds of someone being tackled to the ground right before an explosion.

“Y/N?” Nothing. “Y/N!” Steve shouted, heart racing with fear.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” the unknown voice demanded.

“Steve, I'm fine,” you sounded a little dazed, “but I have to go. Can we talk about this when I get back?”

“Yeah.” He’d rather her be safe and deal with the uncertainty for now than risk your safety. “Just promise me you’ll be careful wherever you are.”

“I promise.” You sounded sincere. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Right before the call ended, Steve heard that strange voice say, “The target’s holed himself up behind about fifty--”

He hated to do it, but he needed to know more. That famous Meddling Captain America Curiosity™ was kicking in something fierce. Quickly, he was finding Natasha’s name to call next.

“Hey, Tasha,” he greeted, voice wavering a little. “I need a favor . . .”

~ONE WEEK LATER~

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him,” Slade was saying on the other end of a call as you dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment.

“And I appreciate that you’re willing to go that far, but even you couldn’t get away with offering literal Captain America.”

“If he breaks my daughter’s heart, I’ll find a way”

A half-hearted chuckle found its way out of you. “Thanks, Papa.” Your hands were shaking as you placed your key in the lock. “Well, it’s now or never,” you muttered mostly to yourself. “You turned the knob. And there was Steve, waiting for you on the couch, probably ever since you messaged him saying that you were almost home. “I’ve got to go.”

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart.” That was his version of ‘I love you’, and honestly it helped soothe your nerves a little.

“You too.” And with that, you hung up.

There was a moment of silence. A measure of time where it felt like the whole world froze in anticipation. 

“So . . . I'm not the only one that calls you ‘sweetheart’, huh?” Steve offered to break the ice.

It worked well enough to startle a laugh out of you. “Yeah, though I can’t figure out why. There’s nothing sweet about me.”

“I seem to recall a few mornings of you begging to cuddle longer that would prove otherwise.”

You snorted.

Everything paused again.

“That was my dad, by the way.”

“I figured.”

“So . . .”

“So . . .”

“I guess we should have that talk now, huh?”

“I guess so.”

#crossover au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #could/should/did #reader insert #marvel imagine #dc imagine #nyx au

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Trouble in Paradise

Request:  hey, could you write a marvel x the originals crossover where the reader is dating Bucky (if comfortable writing him, if not let me know and i can change it) and she introduces him to her family (the Mikaelsons, she’s Klaus or Rebekah’s twin) and like they recognise him from him being The Winter Solider and like all hell breaks lose with a fluffy/happy ending? thanks :) - @simonsbluee​

Fics: The Originals x MCU crossover

Word Count: 2.5k

You and Bucky Barnes had been quite the couple ever since you two met in New York a few months ago through your mutual friend, Steve Rogers.

~A couple of months ago~

“So you’re not gonna go all fangirl on me when you meet the rest of the Avengers, right?” Steve asks as you make your way to the doors of the Avengers compound.

“In your year of knowing me. Has Y/N Mikaelson ever fangirled?” You tease back.

“No.” He chuckles. “No, Y/N Mikaelson has never fangirled,” He responds opening the door for you. The two of you head into the elevator. As you make your way out you see Tony Stark in his shop and a few others in the living room on the other side.

“Oh..My...God. You didn’t tell me THE Iron Man was gonna be here!” You whisper fake surprised as Steve just looks at you annoyed.

“Really, Y/N. You told me--” He starts.

“I’m kidding. Chill,” You slap Steve on the chest before walking into Tony’s shop.

“Hi, and you are?” Tony asks as you walk in.

“Y/N. Y/N Mikaelson. A good friend of mister Cap America.” You say looking around.

“Well, Steve didn’t tell me we’d have a guest today. Anything of ours is yours.” He offers.

“Can I have a suit?!” You say excitedly. “Kidding but your work is great,” You say after seeing Tony’s look of disapproval. 

“Come meet everyone else,” Steve says leading you out of the shop.

“Nice to meet you, Tony,” You say as you leave the shop and he nods his head.

Steve leads you to the living room as you find pretty much every other Avenger except Thor and Clint Barton, “Hey guys, this is my good friend Y/N Mikaelson. I hope you guys don’t mind but she needs a place to stay for a while and I thought here would be great.” Steve tells the crew. They all say agreeing words in response.

“I know who all of you are, so no need for introductions really,” You tell the group.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Steve turns to you and leads you down a hallway. You guys take a few turns through the maze of the compound before finally reaching your room. You set your stuff down as Steve begins to explain the “rules” of living in the compound. Even though they were really more guidelines if anything.

“I’ll let you settle in. Come get to know everyone once you’re ready.” Steve says making his way to his door.

“Hey, Steve. Wanda told me you were over here.” A man says making his way to Steve.

“Hey, perfect timing. I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine who’s staying with us.” Steve says as you make your way to your door.

“Hi, Y/N Mikaelson. You must be the Winter Soldier.” You say putting your hand out for him to shake.

“Please call me Bucky, nice to meet you,” He smiles shaking your hand.

And that’s where it all started.

~Present Day~

You wake up next to Bucky as your phone buzzes violently. Still being tired you completely ignore it, not even sparing a glance. You lie awake for a few moments before finally checking your phone. You find 17 missed phone calls from your older brother Niklaus. Not even caring for your other family members you don’t even call back and turn over to cuddle Bucky. You only got a few seconds before your phone starts to buzz again, only this time it was your other older brother, Elijah. Being annoyed enough about the calls you rush out of your room to answer it.

“I told you to never call me, any of you.” You respond angrily.

“Well, hello to you too little sis,” You hear Elijah’s soothing voice respond.

“Did Nik put you up to this? If so, tell him I’m not speaking to him. Then again he’s probably standing right next to you,” You spurt out.

“We were planning on a little family reunion, a ball in fact. And would love for you to come and join us. Even heard you had yourself a new boyfriend, we’d love to meet him,” Elijah disregards what you had just told him. 

“Have you guys been keeping tabs on me? And what makes you think I’d come to your little ball?” You respond.

“Sweetheart, we got eyes all over the world.” You hear Nik say in the background.

“I knew it,” I say rolling your eyes.

“Mother, Finn, and Kol will be there,” Elijah states.

“Wow, Nik decided to finally forgive them? And if mother is going to be there. No thanks.” You say and hang up the phone. You head back into your room to find Bucky is finally awake.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks clearly noticing the pissed look plastered on your face.

“Yeah just some family drama,” You say making your way to him and give him a soft peck on the lips.

“You know you’ve never told me about your family except that you and they are the oldest vampires on earth,” He states.

“I’ve kinda cut myself off from them. That’s why I never talk about my family.” You sigh.

“Well, it was clearly important enough for you to answer the call.” Bucky points out.

“If you call answering because your sick of constantly hearing your phone buzz a million times, then sure,” You respond crossing your arms

“What did they want?” He asks rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

“It’s not important,” You brush off and head to your dresser.

“If they called you that many times, it is,” He tells you.

“You’re not gonna give up, huh?” You turn around and scoff.

“If something is bothering my one true love this much. Then yes, I’m not gonna give up.” Bucky walks over and cups your face in his hands.

You sigh, “They’re planning some sort of family reunion ball thing. And found out I have a boyfriend, they want to meet you,” You reluctantly tell him.

“I would love to meet and get to know your family. Let’s go,” Bucky suggests. 

“No. Nuh-uh. If we go all hell is going to break loose. In fact, it’s going to, regardless if we go.” You state.

“I can handle myself. If I can survive a fall from a train and live 70 years, barely aging. I think we’re good.” He states back.

“No. It’s out of the question, Buck. I’m not risking your life just so you and my family can play get along.” You tell him rustling through your clothes.

“If it makes you feel better we can bring back up. Steve. Tony.” Bucky suggests.

“They’ll sense them as soon as we get to the door, we’re the original vampires. I already told you no.” You sternly respond.

“Come on, Y/N. It can’t be that bad. When’s the ball?” Bucky says as you start to get dressed.

“I didn’t talk long or care enough to ask,” You respond.

“Well, let’s ask. Again. I’d love to meet your family.” Bucky responds.

“I told you we’re not going.” You say starting to get mad. Bucky doesn’t respond, catching on to your anger towards him. You head out of your room and into the kitchen. You start to make yourself and Bucky some breakfast.

“Hey, you got some mail Y/N,”   Peter Parker says walking with a box in hand.

“Thanks, Peter,” You say taking the box from him. 

As soon as you look at the top of the box you see your family crest plastered on the top, “How did they find where I lived?” You whisper under your breath.

“Who?” Peter asks, clearly always wanting to know what going on.

“No one,” You say and set the box back down and finish cooking breakfast. You neatly arrange the food on plates and carry the box and breakfast back to your room.

You set the box down and the food on a table as Bucky finishes his shower. Letting the curiosity get the better of you, you decide to open the box. The first thing you see is a card. You open it to find “Hello sister. We would love to invite you and your boyfriend to our family ball on October 22nd at 7 pm in Mystic Falls. Although it would be lovely to join us before then. Hope you like your dress, Rebekah picked it out,” written on the inside. 

Underneath the letter, you find a blue ball gown underneath. You quickly close the box as you hear the door to the bathroom open, “What’s that?” You hear Bucky’s voice behind you. 

“Nothing. I made some breakfast. Still hot,” You push off his question.

“It’s something from your family, huh?” He says clearly noticing the “M” plastered on the top.

“Yes,” You sigh as you open the lid back up and hand him the letter. He reads it and pulls out the dress.

“This is a lovely dress. Wish I picked it out. So does this mean we’re going?” He asks clearly excited to go.

“I guess so. If they know where I live then. I rather go than put you guys in harm’s way,” You say reluctantly.

“We’re in the Avenger’s compound. I think we’re fine,” Bucky responds.

“Better safe than sorry,” You say as you put the dress back in a close the box.

“Well its the 20th today, we should probably head over tomorrow. Seeing as they want to see us beforehand.” Bucky says as he starts to eat.

“I guess we should pack and head out tonight,” You say as you start to eat as well.

You and Bucky spent the day packing up and preparing a quinjet to have Natasha fly you out. The next morning you, Bucky, and Natasha head to the quinjet to fly to Mystic Falls. You have Natasha land in the front driveway of the mansion that Elijah has told you about.

“Just call when you need to be picked up,” Natasha yelled as you and Bucky made your way out.

You and Bucky walk up to the front porch, “Prepare for all hell to break loose,” You say as you were about to open the door. But before your hand reached the knob someone opens the door from the inside.

“Baby sis! Welcome home!” Rebekah throws herself into your arms.

“Hey, Rebekah. This is Bucky, my boyfriend.” You say pulling yourself away. 

“I’m Rebekah. Come meet everyone else,” She says as you and Bucky walk into the house.

She leads you to your room where you and Bucky set your stuff down. After you had set your stuff down, she leads you into the great room where you find a few of your other siblings. Niklaus, Kol, and Finn.

“Is Y/N here yet?” You hear Nik ask clearly sounding impatient. 

“I’m right here,” You say as you round the corner. 

“Ah! there is our lovely little sister. How are--” Nik says but stops clearly taking notice of Bucky.

“Niklaus, don’t,” You say knowing that he’ll burst into anger.

“You’re boyfriend is the Winter Soldier?!” Nik raises his voice.

“Nik! Please,” Rebekah yells trying to get him to calm down.

“Oh I better rip him from limb to limb,” Klaus says after pushing Bucky up against the wall behind you guys.

“Nik stop! You wanted us here and we are!” You explain.

“You are not allowed to be associated with this...this Russian Dog!” Klaus says flashing his amber eyes at Bucky.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Bucky says grabbing Nik’s hand with his metal arm.

“Oh, you think that you can beat a thousand-year-old hybrid with that little metal arm of yours, don’t you,” Nik says getting ready to bite Bucky. 

“Nik, I swear to god. If you hurt him. I’m out of here!” I say pulling him off of Bucky. But clearly what you said didn’t work as Nik and Bucky get into a full-on fistfight. Nik rushes him around the room as they land blows on each other.

“Nik!” I yell and try to pull him off Bucky. 

“Niklaus Mikaelson!” You hear a somewhat familiar voice say as they stop fighting. You turn your head to find your mother, Esther, and Elijah walk in. “Behave yourself. We have a guest,” She says calmly as Nik and Bucky let go of each other.

“Y/N, it’s wonderful to see you again,” Elijah says breaking the tension. 

“Hey. Esther.” You say as you notice your mother looking towards you.

“It’s wonderful to see you again. As well as meet you--” She trails off clearly not knowing Bucky’s name.

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky finishes.

“Bucky. I’m glad you could join us. Now why don’t you two settle in and meet us back down here for lunch, and we can all get to know each other,” Esther says calmly.

You slowly leave the great room and head back up to the room you were given. You and Bucky start to unpack a few of your clothes.

“I’m sorry about that. My family is dysfunctional,” You say hanging the dress up.

“Well, you warned me and like I said. I can handle myself,” He responds back.

“Just keep a lookout. I don’t want you to get hurt,” You say as you hear a knock on your door. You open up to find none other than Niklaus, your older hybrid brother.

“Yes?” You say annoyed.

“Can you and I have a little talk?” Klaus says looking at Bucky behind you.

“Fine,” You sigh. He leads you to the library, far enough so no one could hear. 

“What did you want to talk about?” You question as he closes the door.

“I am not letting you, my little sister, be associated with him. I knew I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Klaus says annoyed.

“I’m sorry that you seeing me happy upsets you. That me being with someone who actually makes me happy, upsets you,” You snap back.

“You know what he’s done right? He was a spy!” Klaus raises his voice.

“And now he’s my boyfriend and I love him!” You yell back.

“Nik, Y/N,” You and Nik turn your heads as you see Elijah walk in. “I think Y/N’s boyfriend is wonderful and will do anything to make her happy,” Elijah gives his opinion.

“Thank you. Now can we please have a normal, non-dysfunctional family event, please,” You say.

“But he was a Russian spy!” Nik says still upset.

“Not anymore. Now please Nik. Please behave yourself. I already don’t want to be here,” You sigh.

“Fine. For you, but if he tries anything. I’m killing him,” Nik says pointing to you after a few moments of thinking.

“Nik…” You trail off.

“Ok. Ok. Fine. I won’t touch him,” He says holding his hands up.

“Good, it’s settled. Now let’s go to lunch and get to know Bucky Barnes,” Elijah says before walking out the door.

A/N: Soo this turned out to be way longer than I expected.  I loved everything about this request. It fuels my soul...tbh, like as soon as I started I really couldn't stop. I’m not sure if the ending is as fluffy/happy as you hoped for, but I felt like it fit for the characters. I hope this is what you were looking for and enjoy it! 

Tagging: @commentaryfanfic​

#the originals #the originals imagine #the originals rewrite #the originals fanfiction #niklaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #marvel cinematic universe #mcu x reader #the originals x reader #mcu imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

A Matter of Seconds

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

The second phase started a few days later, One went to recruit a new guy, a former Deltas force.

After meeting at The Haunted House, giving the new guy a tour, you all went to the closest Diner for a late lunch. One introduced the new guy as Seven.

“How come you’re not Seven by the way?” Five asked you, then look at One, who did not acknowledge her question.

“Because she's an eight.” Four shrugged

You scoffed. "Who gave you the right to rate me, skater boy?"

“See, the sarcasm removes 2 points.” He tilted his beer to you. Neither of you mentioned the night at the pool since then but there were lingering glances heavy with meanings.

‘Careful, she's a feminist.” One said feigning to be afraid, focusing on some device in his hands.

“Don't forget, the Feminist can access your bank accounts in a second.”

He points at you with a smirk, acknowledging your point. They resumed the welcoming talk for Seven.

“When you’re dead, you get to stop all the bullsh*t. No more DMV lines, no more shopping Christmas.” Three pulled a face reminiscing his past life.

“Or backstabbing girlfriends. No more getting arrested by the pigs just for being naked or just usual stuff. You know, being naked, getting drunk. Casual stuff.” Four added.

You shook your head, a smirk forming on your face. Four’s old life looked interesting.

Seating at his right on the booth next to his, you glanced at him when they all focused on One’s magnetic little show. He caught you starring so wriggle his eyebrows to you, focusing back on the table ahead you hide a growing smile by taking a sip on your coffee. The guilt had diminished, in the grieving process you had passed from the denial and isolation to a quick depression then acceptance but it was taking time.

One explained the mission, a Coup d’état, replacing the evil shithead Dictator of Turgistan Rovach Alamov, with the Democracy-loving brother, Murat Alamov. Four poked your arm.

“You’re a ten by the way” he whispered.

“Shut up!” you punched his shoulder laughing, his presence and to be honest being in this weird squad was helping, you didn’t trust yourself to go through this alone. They didn’t pity you, per contra, they were pushing you forward, they were caring, each one of them in their own way.

Back at the base, you were showing Four a suite of connectors he would have to do during the mission, but he was clearly not paying attention. The old TV was playing this fucking Beaver show, and there was no way to turn it off, One had rigged the thing!

Four was poking your sides, enjoying his time alone with you. Footsteps approached the trailer, you swat Four’s hand, he smiled letting his tongue lick his under lip. Seven entered the trailer, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. After giving a new passport to Seven, this latter became nosy.

“Hey, what do you know about One?” he looked at his new passport

“We usually don’t ask about One” you responded annoyed at his presence, it���s not that Seven was a bad guy, but he kept asking stuff he shouldn’t so it was annoying.

“He loves Wally the dog," you sighed as Four began to talk pointed at the English mastiff drooling on the floor, "He’s obsessed with this Beaver show. I think he’s an orphan actually. We got a little bet on if you want to put some money in.” You hit his arm, he widened his eyes wondering.

"sciocco" you rolled yours in disbelief. Four always did that, shared too many details and talk so fast you would have to muffle him to make him stop.

“It’s an interesting crew you got here. How many missions’ you guys run?

“Counting Florence?” Four put the passports back in the drawer, brushing your arm on the way

“Yeah.”

“One.” You answered in unison

“One what?”

“Well, actually, no, there was, um, this like mini-mission, so maybe one and a quarter. It was in Sicily. But Florence.., absolute shitshow. I mean, if I wasn’t there, probably more than one of us …dead." Four realized as he said it, he looked at you with an apologetic look. You just look at your laptop trying not to react.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Seven started to agitate.

“I don’t fuck around.” Four said offended. He glanced at you still feeling shitty and fearing your reaction.

“You realize I just buried myself in front of my family and friends, right?”

“Yeah, One told me about that," Four said genuinely interested while you started closing your tabs, "Big military funeral. Guns popping, flags. It’s pretty cool. I mean in my funeral, there were five people there, and two of them left before the end. It is tough watching your mum cry at your grave though.”

“At least you had proper funerals, Seven.” You said coldly, unplugging the battery cable a bit too angrily.

“Yeah.” Seven sighed, "How was it for you Eight?” Seven turned to you.

“It doesn’t matter!” Closing your laptop, you stride over Four’s legs, petting Wally on your way out.

“Wait, fuck, sorry .. Eight I got carried away ..” Four started to get up but Wally did first blocking his way. Good boy.

Waving him off “Yeah, as always.” Your throat dry as that fucking desert, acceptance was not easy.

“What’s her story?” Seven nodded your way

“The cold guy from Florence, .. her twin brother.“

Seven furrowed his brows, watching you mount your fat tire cruiser bike.

Later at night, you were at the dry pool as always.

“You didn’t answer.” His voice cracked through the perfect silence of the desert. The Moon spreading her pale light on him on the other side of the pool.

“About what?”

“Why Eight? You should have been Seven..”

... you took a deep breath, few seconds passed.

“I was born 8 seconds before my brother.”

You heard a whispered “fuck” coming his way.

“I argued with One to get this number. Thinking about it, childish move, but today …, it means more.” You played with the cross around your neck. “My mother gave it to him you know, the cross," you scoffed, "I was incredibly jealous until I learned that she gave him because he needed it the most. You knew him as a joyful teen playing around being sassy, but he’d always needed an anchor and mamma thought God could be his.” Lifting the necklace to the sky, the moonlight started reflecting on the silver cross.

“Mamma knew I wasn’t one to believe, yet I prayed for him. Perdonami mamma” You mumbled to yourself.

“About earlier, I’m sorry…” Four began...

“Enough talking about me!" You cleared your throat, "Naked and drunk huh? Wanna tell me more about that?” you reminisce the talk at the diner.

He laughed getting up from the edge “What, it never happened to you? Never got shit drunk and ran butt naked in the streets?” He straddled your lounge chair near your feet.

“Oddly, I wanted to stay off police radar.” you straightened a bit, he chuckled.

Lifting an eyebrow, he taunted “Drunk on a beach, skinny dipping, never?”

“As funny as it sounds now, I didn’t want to die, especially drowning. How’d you come so far in life?”

“Skills!” you pushed his leg with your foot scoffing at his answer. He rested one hand on your calves, you fall silent enjoying each other’s presence.

“I miss him.” He dipped his head as he said it. They had really become friends in an instant, you remember the first time you arrived at the Haunted House. It’s like they were lost brothers, Four said something about music and they bonded immediately.

Straightening you nudge his leg gently this time, scooting closer, your left leg bend over his lap, he looked over, and you just opened your arms, smiling softly. His hands were so warm around your waist, carefully resting your head on his shoulder, your own arms hugging his broad shoulders. He suddenly tightened his embrace, a sharp inhale escaping your mouth at the sudden action, one of his hand slowly going up your spine setting in your neck. You caught yourself closing your eyes letting your fingers brushed his buzzed haircut, he shivered.

“If I kiss you, you’re not gonna run, are you?” you didn't answer, but your eyes bounced between his lips and his green eyes.

“Please don’t run.” He whispered, his lips faintly brushed yours before you rushed into the kiss as if to catch up the moment you’d lost last time.

"Okay, definitely not running away," he chuckled kissing you again standing up, you still in his arms, he made his way to the bad replica of a Mexican Abode where he had made himself at home.

His kisses trailed down your collarbone, your hands ran down his bare chest, up his toned arms and firm clad buttocks, his mimicking yours on your soft body. Soon his hand was where you wanted it most, biting his neck in response he groaned tilting his head for more.

The pale light of the moon shining on your body through the broken shutters, the cold night of the desert contrasting with the heat emanating from you both.

His warmth in yours, you were writhing under him, he made you reach some highs, eyes never leaving each other’s features, your bare body clad with sweat holding onto each other for dear life until coming undone, all the rage and stress from the missions gone for a moment.

“We could get kicked out …” you were still a bit out of breath, outrageously and gloriously nude.

“What One doesn’t know … can’t hurt us” he mumbled against your shoulder, you half laughed. His fingers trailed up and down your bare spine, “I thought the all deal with being dead was freedom?”

“Feel free then” you smiled smugly, no sooner had he smiled back he disappeared under the sheet, you laughed, pulling the sheet  away to watch him...

Fourth Chapter - I need a backdoor 

A/N: don’t forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

#billy x reader #four x reader #four imagine #6 underground imagine #6 underground four x reader #Ben Hardy #Fucks not Found