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eldrai · 3 years

Text

Not Worth It

Whumptober 2021 - day 3 - prompt: insult

Character: Reid

Warnings: ableism, r-slur, brief/mild homophobia

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Spencer isn’t naïve. He is young and he looks young but he isn’t stupid. He hadn’t graduated with the expectation that because he was older, had qualifications to back him up, the world would collectively mature in kind. After all, he’d gained his relative immunity to insults because it hurt less to let them taunt him than it had to confront them and end up shoved in a locker or tied up on the football field.

He had hoped things might be different. Not expected. Not assumed.

Just hoped.

ao3 / masterlist

“—were actually invented in the early fifteenth century, though the first versions were, uh, significantly more spherical and made of a wood like beech. It’s also highly likely they used cows’ hair inside leather—”

The cop – Maciewicz – nudges the officer beside him. “Does he ever stop talking?”

Spencer is fairly sure the jab is intended to be audible. It’s an interesting social convention, that sort of insult, where everyone including the target hears it but the person who said it can’t be called out on it because they supposedly directed it at nobody in particular. Interesting, and very high-school of them: Maciewicz is closer to forty than thirty and beginning to bald, and the stale remnants of cigarette smoke follows his colleague wherever he goes.

It doesn’t offend Reid these days. Attending a public LA high school is its own distinct circle of hell but doing so at nine? University at twelve? He’s been called most names under the sun and petty insults don’t get under his skin like they used to.

Which isn’t to say they aren’t annoying.

What he hates the most is the variety of people who insult him: they all have different reactions, different sore spots, and getting them to go away isn’t a one-size-fits-all situation. Reid has dealt with enough bullies to understand that ‘ignore them and they’ll go away’ is useless, if not downright dangerous advice, but there is a whole spectrum of solutions which may or may not work. Get it wrong, and they just grow more persistent.

Spencer isn’t naïve. He is young and he looks young but he isn’t stupid. He hadn’t graduated with the expectation that because he was older, had qualifications to back him up, the world would collectively mature in kind. After all, he’d gained his relative immunity to insults because it hurt less to let them taunt him than it had to confront them and end up shoved in a locker or tied up on the football field.

He had hoped things might be different. Not expected. Not assumed.

Just hoped.

Of course they aren’t.

He pays them no mind and continues to explain the significance of the golf balls their unsub keeps leaving behind. If they didn’t want him to talk, they shouldn’t have asked for his opinion.

This seems like a fairly straightforward case and with any luck, they’ll only have to tolerate the local police department for a couple of days more.

He may have jinxed it.

(Once when they had come to take his Mom to inpatient, Spencer had overheard someone at the front desk talking lowly to someone else, and her words had stuck with him: see, that’s what you get for saying it’s quiet today!

That was always the gist of what was said on TV hospital dramas too. Police chaos isn’t all that different from hospital chaos, he thinks. There’s always too much of it and it’s unpredictable in its unpredictability.)

The curveball this time is their unsub is not a lone male but a male-female duo – he carries out the kills but under her direction. Classic submissive-dominant dynamic. The thing with pairs is they crack. Bend under the pressure until they break and lives are lost in the collateral damage.

Case in point: Marcy Edgeworth, aged twenty-four, Caucasian female, death by blunt force trauma. She is the first female victim and the first to have been left to lie where she’d died. That isn’t a good sign. No indication of sexual assault pre- or post-mortem but there is an incomplete ring of bite marks just beneath her right collarbone, exposed due to her torn shirt.

“What, never seen a naked girl before?” Jamison – Maciewicz’s colleague – mutters. Just low enough for Spencer to hear as he is trying to get on with his job, unlike a certain pair of officers.

“Woman,” he corrects, for her age, “and yes, I have.”

He hopes the lightness in his tone offsets the brusqueness. Spencer shifts his crouching into kneeling and leans forwards to examine her hair. It’s an artificial red – her roots and her eyebrows are blonde – and their previous victims have all had brown hair.

“Only counts if it’s outside a morgue,” Maciewicz chimes in.

He ignores them but their gaze burns the back of his head, and their presence has his guard raised. They stand behind him and their shadows stretch out over the grass either side of him. They’re going for a reaction, Spencer assumes.

Biting is an interesting thing without an accompanying sexual assault. If nothing else it gives them a good estimation of their male unsub’s teeth. The impression he’s getting from the scene is one of interruption, an impulse kill whose victim he had to leave too soon. It is a public park and it was an early-morning dog walker who found her – likely a jogger or someone on a night shift.

Jamison clears his throat once, twice, then taps him on the shoulder. Spencer rears away from his touch. People never ask, they just do.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Jamison says. “I – we – we were wondering why you do that… thing.”

“What thing?” Spencer asks.

Jamison gestures. “You know, the – you know.”

Is that some sort of punchline he’s missing? Spencer glances over at Maciewicz and finds a mild amusement. Nothing to indicate he should be laughing, nor should he know what they do mean.

Maybe he’s missing the cue. He’s better at it these days, but not perfect.

“No, I don’t.”

With a furtive glance at the precinct’s captain, deep in conversation with one of the forensic technicians, Jamison sighs. “The thing with your hands, the—” He shakes his hands in an exaggerated manner.

Spencer’s hands still. He hadn’t thought it was very noticeable and more to the point, Jamison is definitely overexaggerating it like kids in middle school used to do. Only back then they had his unusual gait and meltdowns to mock too. “I don’t do that,” he says firmly.

(He’d answer it if it was a genuine question. Respectful. He loves people who ask out of genuine good intent. They are few and far between.)

Maciewicz snickers.

“Yeah, you do,” Jamison says. “I want to know why, that’s all.”

“Makes you look like a retard,” Maciewicz adds.

…and there it is.

He goes cold from head to toe. It never fails to make him feel as if someone has just dumped a bucket of water right over him, washing away his enthusiasm and excitement and everything else he values. Leaves the bare bones, the weirdness, each of the hundred ways he never quite fits in.

Spencer hates the word.

Because they don’t care about his IQ or eidetic memory or reading skill when they say that, and they don’t care after he tells them.

Nobody calls him that because they think he is. They say it to hurt him.

He wishes it wouldn’t.

Despite how often he’s heard it, he never has a response. His mind goes blank and all he can pull from it is the roots – re,from Latin: back, and tardus, from Latin: slow – as if they give a damn about etymology. As if that’s a normal person’s response. Today is no exception so it’s a blessing when Morgan wanders over.

“You got anything, pretty boy?” he asks. Maciewicz and Jamison snort. If Morgan hears it, he pays it no mind. “They found a guy’s baseball cap over there. No hair but it looks like it’s our man’s.”

And once again, his mind goes blank. Makes you look like a retard. He’d been thinking about – the bite mark, yes, what does that indicate? Spencer catches his hands moving and shoves them in his pockets before they can. “He was interrupted,” he says. “It explains why the bite isn’t complete and why he didn’t notice he’d left his hat.”

Morgan nods. “The person who found the body didn’t recall seeing anyone else around, so you think he’d just left before they got there?”

“Probably,” Spencer says. “I think the woman might be blonde. If they got into a fight, he’d be stressed, he’d be thinking about her. Maybe she reminded him of her.”

“Could be the hair, could be something else,” Morgan says. “He won’t have talked to her, not if he hit her from behind.”

“What if they did? She could have walked away—”

“Maybe,” Morgan says. “But if her hair was dyed, he wouldn’t see that unless they were up close, right? He’d initially go for her because she’s got red hair, not blonde. And if they did talk, Prentiss says no woman’s gonna just turn her back on a strange man. Especially in the middle of the night with no-one around.”

It’s a valid point, and it isn’t condescending. Nonetheless it hurts. Spencer studies the ground for a long moment and tries to forget (retard) Maciewicz and Jamison. “The unsub isn’t going to be someone he’s sexually attracted to,” he says. “He didn’t assault her, and if the victim reminds him of the other unsub, he’d probably have tried to even if someone interrupted him before he really could.”

A burst of laughter from Maciewicz and Jamison. His cheeks go hot with embarrassment—they must be talking about him, what else is there to laugh about? Morgan follows his gaze. “There a problem?” he asks.

Maciewicz holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No, no. Just… the hell is that about, ‘pretty boy’?”

Morgan shrugs. Spencer isn’t sure if it’s as casual as it looks.

“Well, makes sense,” Jamison says. “Course he’s gonna freak out over a naked girl if he doesn’t swing that way.”

…oh, great.

Spencer doesn’t mind exactly what they say as much as the implication—that they know, that they’re entitled to know his sexuality. How they say it as if gay is equivalent to bad. Once again, how utterly high school it all is. And he knows Morgan isn’t going to appreciate it either, probably more insulted on his behalf than Spencer himself.

“And you care, because...?” Morgan says, looking back and forth between them.

“I don’t,” Jamison says.

“He’s…” Maciewicz stammers, “…you know.”

“Smarter than you?” Morgan suggests. “Better at his job than you? A better person than you?”

“You don’t have to stick up for him,” Jamison says. “Must get annoying to deal with a re—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer interrupts. It isn’t. It really isn’t but it isn’t worth the conversation. How tiring it gets to deal with it, how much easier it is to walk away. These officers aren’t going to change their worldview on disabilities all of a sudden. “Morgan.”

Morgan takes in his posture, the unnatural stillness as he forces himself not to fidget, though the look in his eyes doesn’t fade. “The only people I don’t want to ‘deal with’ are both of you.”

The men share a look – not so much chastened as disappointed their fun was interrupted – but they do back off.

“They already seem to think I’m incapable,” Spencer says irritably. “I said it was fine, I didn’t need you to say anything.”

He crouches down to examine the bite again.

“It didn’t matter,” Spencer says. His hands itch and despite needing to, he can’t bring himself to move. Makes you look like a retard.

“Does if it bothers you,” Morgan insists. “And it did, don’t look at me like that.”

He sighs. They’re not even there any more, the two cops out on patrol and them revisiting the penultimate crime scene. “I’m used to it.”

“And?” Morgan says. “Just because you are doesn’t mean you have to put up with it—”

“It was five minutes at most,” Spencer points out. “Everyone else was fine.”

“Yeah, and they were dicks.”

He shrugs.

“What else did they say?”

Spencer rolls the fabric of his sweater between his fingers and feigns ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what else did they say when I wasn’t there, ‘cause they said something.”

“Makes you look like a retard.”

He doesn’t mean to say it – wasn’t sure what he had planned to say, but it certainly wasn’t that – but he says it nonetheless, his tone mimicking the disdain and irritation. And now Morgan definitely isn’t going to believe him if he says he’s fine and it’s going to make the situation worse to explain that he mostly is, he just hasn’t heard it for a while, he’s used to it.

Stupid echolalia.

“Like I said,” Morgan says, “they were dicks.”

Spencer doesn’t point out being rude doesn’t automatically mean lying. “I’ve heard worse.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t give them the right to say stuff like that.”

He rocks back on the balls of his feet. His hands aren’t co-operating but the swaying motion is a good substitute. “I’m okay.”

“You know,” Morgan says casually, “whenever you lie, you stand exactly the same way.”

Spencer looks up. The expression on Morgan’s face falls somewhere between sadness and sympathy but, he thinks, not pity. It’s a nice change.

“Kid, the only thing you’re gonna get from pretending you’re OK is worse,” Morgan says. “It’s not worth it. Not for anyone but especially not morons like that.”

“It’s not worth it,” Spencer repeats. The words catch in his thoughts and he murmurs it again and again and Morgan isn’t even slightly annoyed at him.

(It isn’t worth it—he knows this—but maybe it is. Just a tiny bit. Just for the part where he has friends who tell him things like this, who don’t mind when he’s awkward. Who don’t mind him.

Friends who say nothing about it but when they get back to the station, the pair are getting chewed out by a pissed off captain.)

A/N: I had trouble getting this to flow as well as my other ones, there's something about it I just can't figure out. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #insults #criminal minds #fanfic #cw: ableism #fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fanfiction #reid #spencer reid #eldrai does whumptober

17 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 4 years

Note

consider this... so ballet class is done for the day and jimin is rubbing down the bars/wiping the foggy mirrors and y/n sees him and shes like you guys go ahead. then she stays to help him bc he works so hard to be a good teacher BUT THEN WHEN THEY FINISH ITS LIKE AFTER HOURS and they attempt to leave the building but realize that the janitor locked up so they're trapped inside and they're forced to be alone together until the person jimin called for help finally comes. imagine the TENSION 🥺

➺ pairing; park jimin x reader

➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!!! mostly cute things happen but also some words r exchanged that make it a little hot n heavy heh

➺ wordcount: 8k

➺ what to expect; “what-“ your voice cracks, “-makes you think that, mr. park?”

➺ optional readings: one; two; three

➺ note; i hope u don’t mind but i changed the request a little bit!! there’s still plenty of y/n and jimin cleaning up the classroom but the janitor didn’t make it in as a character :’(( but i douBT you guys care about the janitor anyway because hello it’s jimin and y/n!!! as per usual this drabble spun out of control which is why it’s 8k words long :D also i’m realising that all the parts combined basically add up to one of my regular fics so i guess ballet!jimin could’ve been a fic but enough about thAT i hope this very large drabble pleases the crowd!!! (also i’m sorry i couldn’t find the original source of the gif but i found it off this pinterest page) happy reading!!

»»————-　♡　————-««

you typically do not condone lying because you believe in the idea that if you tell a lie, that lie will come back sooner or later to bite you in the ass… so it’s always better to tell the truth!

honesty is the best policy, after all

with that being said you aRe human at the end of the day and you can make exceptions at times when it comes to telling the truth

and this would definitely be one of those times

“how come you haven’t packed your stuff up yet, slow-poke?” lisa nudges your back with her duffle bag and you turn around from your locker to see her and a couple of the other girls all packed up and ready to go “and how come you’re still in uniform??”

you pause for a second before offering her a sheepish smile “i… uh…”

here’s what’s happening

you really appreciated that jimin went out of his way to get all of you guys valentine’s day presents because it was just such a sweet surprise and honestly you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how bashful he was when he was handing everyone’s flowers out

and of course you haven’t forgotten the fact that you were the only one who received a lavender rose when everyone else got light pink ones

anyways

you bought him a little gift as a way to return the favour just because you felt kinda bad that he didn’t get anything on valentine’s day

and at first you were going to ask the others if maybe all of you should chip in and get him something nice and expensive but the selfish little monster inside of you convinced you that no, you should keep this a secret and make yourself look like the beST student!!!

and you will admit that you felt a little bad at first about not telling everyone about your idea because it… does kind of make you look like a suck-up (and you hate suck-ups!!!) buT in your defence, if you suggested the idea then everyone would just round back to the whole ‘y/n and mr park sitting on a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g’ teasing nightmare and why the heck would you want to subject yourself to even moRE teasing???

usually after class everyone kind of just goes off on their own after saying goodbye but for some reason, it seems that the girls decided to take their sweet-ass time in leaving this afternoon

you’re not even sure if jimin is in the dang building anymore at this point

“i know we usually walk to the subway together, but-” lisa speaks up again after five whole seconds of you staring at her going uhhhhhh before she gestures behind her “the girls suggested an uber carpool situation and my legs are suPer duper sore so i’m going for that - do you want in?”

“oh, well, thanks for asking- i think i’m… probably just going to take the subway home!” you smile politely as you discreetly shut your locker so that they don’t see the neatly wrapped gift peeking out of your bag

“aw, really?” lisa purses her lips in thought, “since it’s a little late, we can all walk you there and then i guess we’ll call an uber after we say good-“

“no, no!” you snort before flicking your wrist “you guys head off, no need to worry about me. it’s going to take me a while to change out of the unitard and the skirt and the-“

“since when do you change out of your uniform after class? everyone just wears their clothes ovEr their unitards.” jisoo pipes up from behind lisa and you swallow thickly before letting out a chuckle and scratching the back of your neck

that is true

everyone usually just puts on sweatpants and a hoodie after class

no one ever changes into another outfit!!!!

you can feel heat beginning to travel up the back of your neck

you’ve never been good at lying!!!!! and now you’re getting nervouS!! and when you get nervous you become even worse at lying!!!!!!

“are you feeling okay?? you look a little flushed-” ailee’s brows furrow together in confusion and you rub your clammy palms on the back of your cardigan

o god

what do you say now???

oOH tell them you had a bad tuna sandwich for lunch and that you need some alone time with the toilet

…ok no that’s a little nasty aNd very too-much-information

what about if you tell them you applied for a job here as an after-hours janitor and that you need to start getting ready for that and then when they ask you why you got a job here you can tell them that you’ve been having financial struggles and as a young woman living alone in a big city you’re just trying to make ends meet but it’s been really hard and you can barely pay for these classes and every night you have to beg on the streets for dinner-

yeah thAt one’s a little melodramatic and straight up not true so that probably isn’t going to work either

“helloooo?? what’s the holdup, people??” seulgi yells out from the entrance of the changing room

“-my period just came and it’s going to take me a while to strip off and do my business!” you blurt out and a couple of the girls back up a little because of how louDLy you announced that

“oh! alright, that makes sense?” lisa snorts before shaking her head “i totally get the struggle. do you… need a tampon or anything?”

“nope! i, uh, i’m all good. thank you, though.” you clear your throat and offer her a smile “but seriously, you guys go ahead and i’ll see you next week!”

you smile and wave as the last of the girls file out of the changing room before letting out a breath of relief

you appreciated them offering to walk you to the subway and all that but damN they were starting to get a little annoying!!

“okay… it’s not a big deal…” the present in your bag feels like it’s weighing you down as you make your way down the hallway back to the classroom

for some reason it feels like you’re walking to your execution

it’s not a big deal!

it’s just a present for your teacher and that is noT a big deal

it’s a nice gesture and you’re doing this because you’re a nice person

…okay but if u think about it it is kind of a big deal because the person you’re giving this present to is park jimin and you don’t want him to think that you’re harbouring a little crush on him because a student crushing on her teacher is not only cliché but also kind of!!! pathetic!!!!!!

and if he knew that you had a crush on him he’d probably end up giving you a whole speech on being professional and respecting student-teacher relationship boundaries which is honestly very pitiful aND embarrassing and you’d much rather avoid that whole fiasco

ok then maybe you should rethink this whole gift-giving thing

you can express your gratitude in other ways!

do you still have the receipt?

it’s probably crumpled up at the bottom of your bag

you wonder to yourself if the store is still open right now and if you have time to return the-

“y/n?” you stumble backwards a little in surprise when the door suddenly swings open and jimin’s brows knit together curiously “what are you still doing here? was there something you wanted to talk about?”

oh there are pLenty of things you’d like to talk about with jimin

like the meaning behind the lavender rose he gave you and if he knows that it means what it means

“well, uh, i didn’t have something to talk about, necessarily…” you clear your throat as you follow him into the classroom “but i-“

“you know what, i’m actually glad you stayed behind.” jimin whips around and your eyes widen a bit

what’s that supposed to mean??

“you are?” you whisper faintly and jimin nods before offering you a smile

oh god

this is happening all too fast

a minute ago you were freaking out that jimin probably didn’t feel the same way but here he is now-

“the janitor said that he had to leave early tonight so i told him i’d stay behind after class to clean the classroom myself, but now that you’re here - why don’t you start wiping down the mirrors?” jimin gestures towards the grubby mirrors at the front of the classroom before pointing towards the door “and i’m going to go find the mop and bucket.”

“oh!” you drop your duffle bag to the ground with a flop when jimin tosses a rag at you “well, mr. park, you see, i actually wanted to-“

“less talking, more cleaning, miss y/l/n…” jimin raises a brow at you before clapping his hands together “chop chop!”

“but i-“ you groan quietly when jimin slips out of the room before turning to look at the foggy mirrors

…okay why are the mirrors so dirty?????

you’re going to have to talk to everyone about maybe not smearing their hands all over the mirrors like animals

also you’re not sure how you’re supposed to give jimin his gifts when he’s given you the responsibility to help clean up the classroom

you didn’t sign up for thiS >:-(

right

it’s been about 20 minutes or so since you started cleaning

jimin put some music on so that the two of you wouldn’t be cleaning in awkward silence

he surprised you a little when he asked yoU what you wanted to listen to

(you ended up choosing one of those lofi mix videos on youtube because you felt like that would be a safe option)

(it’s an animal crossing gentle piano mix and it’s very soothing and is actually helping you calm down a little bit)

(“really? animal crossing?” “what?? you said i could choose!”)

you decided to take a break from the mirrors (wiping mirrors was noT as easy as you thought it’d be) so you’ve moved on to wiping down the bars instead

jimin’s on his hands and knees diligently scrubbing away at some shoe marks on the floor

he wore a white button up and slacks to class today which isn’t anything out of the usual except for the fact that now he’s unbuttoned the top couple of buttons and he’s rolled + pushed up the sleeves and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t bothered by it

the chain around his neck seems to wink at you under the lights and almost immediately you wonder what his chain would look like hanging above you

…oh boy

you swallow thickly before scrubbing harder at a smudge on the bar

okay you know what

this is ridiculous

you came here to give him something but here you are doing chores

and it seems that you’ve decided against giving him his gift simply because you are SHY

you’re weak

WEAK!!!!

a weak little wimp, that’s what you are

no offence (but it’s kind of tru)

“hey, mr. park?” you blurt out before you realise and your eyes widen slightly in panic

“yes?” jimin turns to glance at you over his shoulders for a second before returning to his vigorous scrubbing aaaaAAND you are now realising that his shirt is a little see-through under the lights and his back muscles are.,., well.,., they are definitely flexing.,.,

you cut your nails recently so it probably wouldn’t hurt him if you dug them into his shoulder blad-

oh my god

get a grip

PLEASE for the love of god get a grip

you know what

it’s because your period is late this month!! that’s why your hormones are completely out of whack

you wouldn’t be surprised if you reeked of pheromones right now

“also, you can call me jimin, you know. mr. park is kind of an in-class thing.” jimin teases

“right! …jimin.” you cough a little when your voice wavers slightly

it’s not that you’re uncomfortable with calling him jimin

it’s just that you’re used to calling him mr. park and jimin feels so informal and you knoW he’s only like two? three? years older than you so it’s not weird for you to be calling him by his name but!!!!! aHH

but then again you like saying his name :-) because it makes you feel closer to him :-) oh god u rly do like him :-)

(also he likes hearing u say his name)

“i, um-“ you hang the rag over the bar before quickly wiping your hands on the back of your skirt “the reason why i stayed behin-“

“hold that thought-“ jimin gets up off the ground and dusts his hands off before patting his stomach “i don’t know about you but i am starving, so i’m going to quickly get some food from that deli down the block - do you want anything? i feel a little bad that i made you stay after class to help me clean.” he grabs his jacket before checking the pockets to make sure he has his wallet with him

right

well

maybe this is another sign from god to noT giving jimin this present

every time you’re about to do it something happens!!!

“oh gosh, don’t worry about it! i… didn’t have any plans, anyway, so…” you snort before turning away from him because woW you are very good at making yourself sound like a loser “but, uh- you don’t have to get me anything! thank you for offering…”

“alright, i’ll be back in twenty. feel free to take a break!”

as soon as jimin leaves you immediately smack your forehead against the glass

okay first of all ouch

but second of all

“c’mon, y/n. keep it cool!”

what is it about park jimin that reduces you into a fumbling, awkward little loser???!!!

jimin lets out a breath as soon as he steps out of the room

he has no idea what’s wrong with him today but for some reason he’s like extra jittery and he has no idea why

it probably has something to do with the three iced lattes he drank but aLso it doesn’t really help that for the last 20 minutes he’s been alone with you and it’s driving him crazy

you drive him crazy!!!

he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you

you’ve been grand jetéing all over his damn mind for the last two weeks!!

lately he’s just been finding it more than difficult to suppress and deny his feelings for you

like during the ten minute break in the middle of class he thinks it’s so sweet how excited you get when you pull your snacks out of your bag

the other day you brought in some cherries and you were making some of the girls crack up because you were trying to use the cherry juice to stain your lips for a make-shift lipstick but you were failing miserably

and then when you noticed he was watching you you immEdiately wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and ended up smearing cherry juice across your cheek and he had to try sO hard not to crack a smile at that

or when one of the girls asks you to help them out with a move you’re always so willing to help out

it’s pretty normal for jimin to give you guys about half an hour of class time to just get used to the routine and practice it on your own (and also this time gives him the chance to sit back and relax a little bit)

but he’s noticed that y/n the student is very different from y/n the teacher

“okay, 5-6-7-8- nope. no. try again. here we go, 5-6-7-up- okay, you need to get this timing right otherwise you’re going to be a beat behind for the entire routine.” you shake your head as you look at lisa in the mirror “are you paying attention? you go on the 8, you don’t go after the 8. i don’t know how many times i need to tell you that.”

“right, sorry…” lisa mutters as she gets back into first position and blows some hair out of her face

“don’t be sorry, just be ready.”

jimin’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull when he hears you say that because that’s what hE says to you guys all the time!!!

it’s adorable how you’ve been picking up on some of his techniques :’) the technique of being scary :’)

but also… he’s kind of very into y/n the teacher

miss y/n is hot

jimin immediately pinches his arm as soon as he thinks that before reminding himself to control himself

“alright, 5-6- ooh, wait, before we start- do you like my new leg warmers??” you ask excitedly before sticking one of your legs out and turning back towards lisa “strawberry patterned!!! strawberry!!!”

aaaand y/n the student is back

or the other day when you asked him for tips on a triple-pirouette because even though he taught that lesson a couple weeks back (ahem the day you sprained your ankle) you still haven’t been able to get the hang of it

it shouldn’t be that complicated!!! it’s literally just spinning on one foot so you don’t understand how you manage to fall off balance each time

anyways while he was walking you through the correct posture and all that he couldn’t help but notice the way that you were staring at yourself in the mirror

“neck straight and lengthened… eye-line is up.” jimin stands behind you but reaches around to tilt your chin up “and shoulders…”

there’s a little divot in between your brows and your tongue is poking out a little in between your lips and jimin doesn’t know how this is the first time he’s seen you make this face because you look like a little puppy and it’s adORABLE

damnit

every time he thinks he’s finally gotten control of his feelings for you you manage to reel him riGht back in

“mr. park?” jimin snaps out of it when you speak up and he blinks twice before looking at you in the mirror

“ah- sorry, what?”

“you… were saying something about shoulders?”

“shoulders! shoulders, yes.” jimin nods quickly and looks over your position “uh, shoulders down.”

jimin stares blankly into space as he waits for his order to be ready

he just doesn’t know what to do

he always knows what to do!

in fact, he prides himself on being able to handle anything that comes his way while remaining both level-headed and classy

but this

this is unknown territory

he’s a teacher, an authority figure, crushing on one of his students like a smitten little schoolboy and if he acts on his feelings, that could not only jeopardise his position at the school (and future positions at other schools) but also your enrolment at the school anD your relationship with your fellow peers (seulgi seems like the type to judge on the spot!!) aND!! your relationship with him!!

because what if he tells you he likes you and you feel forced to tell him that you like him too because he’s your teacher??

would that classify as him abusing his power???

maybe in another universe if he wasn’t your teacher, you guys could be together

age definitely isn’t a problem because he’s only 3 years older than you which really isn’t that large of a gap

he could freely take you out all over the city

he could hold your hand whenever he wanted and he could kiss you whenever he wanted

you guys could go on dinner dates and movie dates and ice cream dates and museum dates and aLL the dates

maybe one night he could drive you to the outskirts of the city and you guys could have a picnic by the river and he could rest his head on your lap while you threaded your fingers through his hair

he wouldn’t have a care in the world because all that matters to him is you

and he doesn’t know if your whole “i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to park jimin-“ speech was just for entertainment purposes or if there’s truth behind your words but god he hopes it’s the latter

but at the same time, he has to be realistic about this

even if you do like him back… he can’t do anything about it

because at the end of the day he’s still mr. park and you’re still miss y/l/n

yeah

maybe in another life… just not this one.

“order number 48!”

jimin squeezes his way to the front of the crowd to grab his take-out bag

suddenly he’s lost his appetite

chakkachakkachakkachakka

“hey, mr. park, i actually have something for y- nope, no, he said to call him jimin-“ you mutter to yourself as you scrub vigorously at the grime in between the floorboards

god it’s like the janitor doesn’t even trY to clean this place up

everything’s so dusty and icky!!

“well, jimin, the funny thing is i actually stayed behind to- why is it funny? it’s not funny. you’re not funny.” you grumble and reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue to scrub with the worn-out toothbrush

these people really need to invest in some proper cleaning equipment

also you’re scrubbing so hard that your arm is going to pop out of its socket soon

and you’ve been on your hands and knees for the last ten minutes so every joint in general is starting to get a little sore

maybe you should take a brea-

“okay, i know you said you didn’t want anything, but i noticed that you didn’t bring a snack in with you today so you must be at least a little peckish.” you jump three feet into the air when the door suddenly swings open and you quickly get up off the ground

you can’t help but hiss a little in pain when your knee cracks

ouCh

if anything this is a sign that your body wasn’t made for cleaning the floor and you should stick to mirror polishing

“but i’m almost done scrubbing the-”

“i got you a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tomato soup.” jimin looks back at you as he peels his leather jacket off and tosses it on top of his bag

“ooH i love grilled cheese sandwiches-!“ your eyes widen in excitement but you quickly dial it back when the corner of jimin’s mouth twitches in a smile “i mean… thank you, jimin.”

he nods in acknowledgement as he pulls the boxes out of the paper bag “come and sit. i have a wet-wipe for you if you wanted to clean off a little.”

okay

this is not a big deal

you and jimin are just… sharing a meal which is NOT a big deal

you’re having dinner together!

…oh god you’re having dinner with jimin

is this a date?????

are you on a date with jimin????

okay now you’re just spiralling

how many times do you need to remind yourself to keep it cool???

you know what

this isn’t a date, because if it were a date, then there’d be like candles and everything for mood lighting and you wouldn’T be wearing leg warmers and your hands wouldn’t reek of chemical cleaner

and these bright fluorescent lights in the studio completely kills the whole romantic thing so you’re fine!

“what did you-“ just as you get settled on the ground, the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling crackles and burns out “…huh.”

on the topic of lights

the weirdest thing about this studio is the vast array of lights hanging on the ceiling

because there are little spotlight bulbs lined up where the mirror is at the front of the room along with the back of the room which are warmer toned

on the ceilings are the classic tube fluorescent lights which obviously have a whiter tint to them

nighttime classes aren’t a huge thing so most of the time you guys don’t even use the lights because the suN is your source of light so you never really understood why the studio was designed this way

anyway, the point is - bright fluorescent lights certainly don’t scream romance but now that they’re dead and you’re left with the warm, golden glow of the spotlight bulbs,..,,. this feels more like a date than a simple shared meal

you swallow thickly

“christ… i bet the janitor didn’t change the lights like i asked him to.” jimin scoffs as he looks up at the ceiling

that guy never listens to him!!!

“actually, this happens a lot more than you think.” he sighs as he sets the boxes down on the ground

“oh?” you clear your throat as you pull your box towards you

“i usually stay for a couple more hours after you girls leave and this isn’t the first time the lights have died on me. at least the spotlight bulbs are working…”

“a little dim, but as long as we’re not fumbling around in the dark, right?” you snort as you pop the lid of the soup container off

almost immediately the smell of tangy tomato soup tickles your nostrils

yuMMy

“you’re right, it is a little dim… lucky for us, i actually keep candles in the cabinet.” jimin claps his hands together before swooping down to open up the cabinets

…yeah so what were you saying about this not being a date setting??

as jimin works on lighting the candles, yoU work on figuring out things to talk about to kill the mood

“you know, um, when i make grilled cheese sandwiches for myself at home, i actually use mayo instead of butter!” you clear your throat as jimin takes a seat after lighting the candles

“i’ve heard about that hack… but i do have to say it sounds a little nasty.” jimin raises a brow as he unwraps his own sandwich

“hey now… don’t knock it til ya try it!” you gasp in mock offence before tearing the sandwich in half and watching the cheese stretch out

god

what a beautiful sight

gooey cheese should be considered as one of the seven wonders of the world

“are you playing with your food?” jimin watches as you wind the stretched out cheese from one chunk of the sandwich around the other sandwich

“playing with your food makes it more fun to eat. that’s a scientific fact.” you break it off before bringing it up to your mouth for a bite

“oh yeah? says who?” jimin teases as feeds himself a spoonful of soup

you swallow your bite and shrug “says me!”

a couple seconds of silence ticks by in which the two of you continue to munch quietly and keep to yourselves

you hate silence

it makes you itChy for some reason

“how about we play a game?” after one whole minute of nothing but the sound of quiet chewing, you decide that soMething has to be said

“what kind of a game?” jimin sits up straighter as he polishes off the first half of his sandwich

“how about…”

you should have thought this through

okay

some kind of an icebreaker game

something safe

truth or dare sounds like it could wander into risky territory so maybe not that

“ooh! two truths and a lie - ballet edition.”

“ballet edition? how would that work?” jimin hums as he picks up the other half of his sandwich

you feel your heart hiccup as he tears it in half and stretches the cheese out

he’s copying u :’)

“lemme think…” you wipe some of the grease on your fingers off on a napkin before leaning back on your palms “okay. my favourite move is the grand jeté, my favourite performance was the nutcracker, and my favourite warm-up exercise is the butterfly stretch.”

jimin thinks to himself as he chews slowly

you smile a little as you pick up your sandwich and take a bite

“your favourite move is not the grand jeté. the other day when i said that i’d be incorporating it into our next routine, i swear i could see the light die in your eyes.” jimin snorts before dusting the crumbs off his hand “that was too easy.”

“can you blame me?? i’m not trying to sprain my ankle again!” you pout as you reach down to brush your fingers over your ankle (that has fully recovered, thank goD) “fine, you give it a try then!”

“so it can be about anything related to ballet?”

“anything at all.”

anything related to ballet

ooh he can talk about his education!!

“alright, let’s see.” jimin wipes his mouth with a napkin, “i graduated at the top of my class… i was the youngest student in my class… and… i am not drowning in student debt.”

“…jimin, the game is called two truths and a lie, not three brags and a nothing.”

“well- there are two truths and a lie!! i’m still playing by the rules!!”

“okay, fine - obviously you’re still drowning in student debt. everyone is!!” you scoff as you pop a piece of crust into your mouth

“ah-“ jimin holds a finger up before wagging it at you “that one’s actually true. i’m not drowning in debt because my education was paid for by the scholarship i was awarded- say, this game is fun! your turn!!”

you can’t help but roll your eyes “again, this isn’t three brags and a noth- hEY-“

you squawK in surprise when jimin suddenly throws a crumpled up napkin ball at you

“don’t roll your eyes at me, miss y/l/n…” he teases before threatening to throw another one “go!! your turn!!”

“alright, alright… let me try to think of something to brag about too!”

the two of you spend the next half an hour or so playing the game while finishing up dinner

at one point you nearly wipe your greasy fingers on your skirt and jimin swats your hand away before telling you that if you walked into his class with a dirty uniform on he would definitely kill you

“okay, give me one last one before we clean up and get back to… well, cleaning up.” jimin pops the lid back onto the empty cup and sets it aside

also you’re going to need to ask him where he bought dinner from because the grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup was actually incredible

“fine, but you have to promise not to get mad or anything- that one time i forgot to bring my pointe shoes was definitely on purpose… we have a nickname for you that i can’t say because the others would kill me for it… ooh, and here’s a good one-“ you snort as you perk up in excitement “all of the girls in class have fallen deeply in love with you after you gave everyone roses on valentine’s day.”

the smile falters on jimin’s face

…

uh oh

maybe that one was a little over the line

you forgetting your pointe shoes was an accident!!! you were in a rush and you forgot to pack them

“…”

your lips part to say something but then it hits you

‘all of the girls’ also includes yourseLF you idiot

‘all of the girls have fallen deeply in love with you’

wow

you are incredible

well you might as well go ahead and throw yourself at him too while you’re at it!!

“all of them, you say?”

if that one’s a truth then he hopes you really do mean all of the girls in class

“y’know, uh, speaking of those roses-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face heat up a little before you scramble up off the ground “i actually wanted to say thank you for the valentine’s day gifts you gave us which was why i hung back after class in the first place-”

“oh?” jimin perks up in interest as he crumples up his napkin and tosses it into the paper bag

he can’t help but smile fondly as he watches you fumble through your bag with your tongue poking out

there it is again!!!!

little puppy :-(

god

you make everything so cute

“yeah! i felt a little bad that you didn’t get anything and that… you know, you had to spend valentine’s day with us…” you pull the presents out and a small frown tugs at your lips when you realise the wrapping paper is a little smooshed

oh well

it’s the thought that counts

and hopefully these presents will get his mind off of what u just said lol

“ah, that’s very nice of you, but you really didn’t have to get me anything…” jimin feels his own cheeks flush a little when you sit down across from him and your knee nudges against his own

“don’t be silly… you didn’t have to get us anything, but you did! and i thought that was very sweet of you.” you smile at him as you hand the presents over

okay WOW you might as well have tiny cartoon hearts floating around your head

reel it iN

“well, i’m glad you liked your rose.” jimin hums as he carefully tears the wrapping paper

you did a very neat job at wrapping his gift so he’s not just going to tear into it like an animaL

jimin’s eyes light up in excitement when he sees what the first present is

ooh!!!!!!!

metal straws!!!!!!

“they’re for those iced lattes you drink all the time!” you grin giddily as you look at his face to gauge his reaction

from the looks of it he seems like he’s a fan and hopefully he’s no longer thinking about your weird confessioN

“ah! i love these! you know, i was thinking about buying them but i keep forgetting, so this is great!”

he’s going to use these metal straws all the time!!!!

he loves them!!!!

save the turtles!!!!!

he’s feeling very trendy now

“also, i chose blue because it matches your hair.” your eyes flicker towards his pale blue strands and jimin unconsciously reaches up to run his fingers through his hair

“you noticed my blue hair? damn, i was trying to be subtle about it…” jimin jokes before moving on to the next gift

“did mr. park just crack a joke?” you gasp mockingly and jimin can’t help but roll his eyes playfully

“mean mr. park does have a sense of humour, you know-“

“for a while there i was seriously considering the theory of you being an android-“

“now look who’s being mean!!”

it’s weird that this is really the only time you’ve had a conversation with jimin outside of class

and it’s even weirder than he’s basically an entirely different person outside of class

with that being said

on monday when he reverts back to mr. park he’s most definitely going to still have the ability to make you pee yourself

as he begins to tear the second gift open you speak up again

“i noticed that the journal you used to take notes and stuff looked a little tattered, so i thought maybe it’d be nice for you to have a new one! obviously you don’t have to use it if you don’t like it, but i just thought that… yeah.”

it’s a handmade brown leather bound journal with his initials pressed (and painted gold!!) on the front cover

truth be told you were a little wary about this gift because it felt oddly… intimate? personal?

it just feels more like a gift you’d give to your significant other rather than your teacher

like if you gave your professor an apple that’s normal but if you gave your professor a box of chocolate covered strawberries that’s a lil.,,.,. a lil out of line and more ‘i love you!’ than ‘i respect you!’

but before you could change your mind about it the person at the store had already finished pressing the letters in and she said no refunds so

oops

“oh, wow… this is beautiful, y/n…” jimin breathes out as he smooths his hand over the leather

although it’s fairly obvious he likes the gift you’re still vERY nervous for some reason

you catch yourself twisting your skirt in between your hands and you quickly let go and clasp your hands together on your lap

“so you… you like it?” you press your lips together and jimin snorts

“like it? i love it!” jimin gushes as he flips through the book “thank you very much, y/n. these were very thoughtful presents, i really appreciate it.” he hums contently before looking up at you with a warm smile

you feel your heart skip a beat at the little twinkle in his eyes

he,.,., is literally..,,. the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.,,.

also the two of you have unconsciously been scooching closer to each other this entire time and your knees are basically pressed up against each others

you’re so focused on the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest that you don’t notice jimin’s gaze flicker to your lips for a brief second

god he wants to kiss you

after dinner you pulled out the strawberry-mint flavoured gum you’re always chewing on before class (you offered him a piece but he’d already pulled out his own plain ol’ spearmint gum for himself)

so he’d definitely taste strawberry if he kissed you

and he really likes strawberries

“also, i-“ you lean back quickly before letting out a nervous chuckle and getting up from the ground “i also wanted to take this chance to apologise for the… inappropriate comments i made a couple weeks back.”

“inappropriate comments?” jimin clears his throat and leans back a little as well

he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck

hOo

maybe he should turn the air conditioner on

it’s getting a little hot in here

he gets up off the ground before heading over to the front of the room where the switches are

“oh, right!” jimin flips the air con switch on and tugs at his collar a bit “you mean you telling the entire class that you’d like to sit on my-“

“tHAT waS-“ you interrupt jimin before he gets a chance to finish his sentence before clearing your throat loudly “see, the thing is, that was just seulgi getting under my skin- i’m sure you’ve noticed we have a best frenemies kind of situation going on-“

you roll your eyes as you start to polish the mirror again (because you’re getting nervous again and when u get nervous you nEED to do something with your hands) “basically some of the girls were talking about you and i stepped in to- y’know, make sure that they were keeping things respectful because you aRe our teacher-“

ok all this rant is doing is making you sound like a major teacher’s pet but pop off sis

“a-anyways, seulgi seemed to think that me defending you was because i had a crush on you, so then i kinda just said all that stuff to get her off my back, you know? does that make sense? i’m not sure if i’m making sense.” you babble on as you start wiping at one spot on the mirror a littLe too aggressively “and, you know, i would, um, under normal circumstances, i would nevEr ever ever disrespect my teachers like that and i just hope that you-“

jimin stops listening to your nervous babbling to flashback to that afternoon

‘i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him.’

even the reminder of you saying that sends a shiver down his spine and sends blood rushing to multiple parts of his body

you know what

fuck it

he’s just going to go for it

he’s sat on this for far too long and if it doesn’t work out, he’s veRy good at acting like he doesn’t care about anything

so, either way, he’ll be totally fine!!!

…right??

“do you?” jimin cuts you off and you look at him in the mirror as he packs the gifts away in his bag

“do i- sorry, do i what?”

jimin zips his bag up loudly and you jump a little in surprise

“do you have a crush on me, y/n?”

your hand immediately freezes on the mirror and your grip tightens on the rag

all you can hear is the sound of the air con whirring above you and your heart beating in your ears

you-

did he just-

what are you supposed to-

is this really happening right now or are u having a fever dream

you force your hand to move but your movements make you seem more like a tin-man rather than a normal human being

“i-i don’t… i’m not sure i understand the, uh…” your heart seems to beat faster with every slow step jimin takes towards you “what exactly, um, what exactly do you mean by ‘crush’? b-because, y’know, crush… crush can be interpreted in… in a miLLion different ways, so…”

…

reaLLY??

thAt’s your response??

gee mr. park can you define crush for me???

can you use it in a sentence sir???

“okay, fine.” jimin purses his lips before tilting his head “are you attracted to me, miss y/l/n?” your hand freezes mid-wipe on the mirror with an obnoxious squeak the moment you realise jimin is standing directly behind you

if u thought that being referred to as miss y/l/n in class was intimidating

hOo boy

“a-attracted?”

this is making you want to catapult yourself into the middle of a busy intersection

“attracted. romantically…” jimin looks at you through the mirror and for some reason you’re unable to unlock gazes with him “sexually.”

“what-“ your voice cracks, “-makes you think that, mr. park?”

the corner of jimin’s mouth tugs up in a sly smirk

well now he definitely knows how you feel about him

this is where it gets fun

“well, i notice that you become very flushed whenever i’m close to you. the apples of your cheeks and the tips of your ears turn bright pink… kind of like how they are right now.” you can feel the heat radiating off of jimin’s body from how close he’s standing to you

you swallow thickly when he reaches up to pluck the rag out of your hand before tossing it aside

you’re completely frozen from head to toe but you manage to slowly drag your hand down from the mirror

“and don’t think i don’t notice the way you look at me when you think i’m not paying attention.” jimin hums and reaches around to tilt your chin upwards as his other hand rests on your waist “look at yourself, y/n.”

miraculously enough you manage to drag your gaze away from jimin to look at yourself in the mirror

oh boy

you are flushed

and your pupils are so blown out to the point where they’ve almost completely consumed your iris’

your chest rises and falls as you continue to take in shallow breaths

“i see the moony look in your eyes… and they get extra moony when i come to class wearing white button-ups.” jimin whispers in your ear and you feel every single hair on your body prickle to life “i see the way you bite your lip when i roll them up like this-“ jimin presses both palms up against the mirror next to your head and you swallow thickly at the sight of his almost obscenely attractive forearms caging you in

“and when you bend down to fix your shoes or adjust your leg warmers… you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” jimin purrs and reaches down to tilt your chin up again

your back is pressed right up against his chest

“you’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are…”

o god

you feel like you can’t speak

your mouth is just dRY

also you don’t know whether you should be feeling humiliated or.,,.,. slightly turned on

is it possible to feel both at the same time??

“tell me you want this as much as i do.” jimin feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest but it’s waY too late to take everything back

your head is reeling and you’re honestly not sure how to respond

because on one hand this is finALLY happening and your dreams are literally coming true right before your eyes but on the other hand this is finally happening and usually when you fantasise about jimin you never let it get this far so you haven’t had the chance to plan out your next move

meanwhile, jimin has no idea what to think and has no idea how to interpret your silence

he waits for another ten seconds to go by before deciding to call it

time of death is 7:48pm

well

this was mortifying

and he’s probably going to lose his job now!

so that’s great!

“shit, i…” he lets his hands fall from the mirror before taking a couple steps back from you “god, i… i’m sorry, that was wildly inappropriate of me, i just thought- mmph!”

jimin stumbles back with wide eyes when you’re suddenly launcHing yourself at him and it doesn’t take long for him to start kissing you back

his arm snakes around your waist as he reaches up to cup your jaw

he was right

you do taste like strawberries

jimin feels a new kind of flame ignite within him when he hears a little whimper slip past your lips when he presses you up against the mirror

and yoU are just floating on cloud nine

jimin’s lips are so impossibly soft and pillowy and you feel like you could kiss him forever

jimin pulls away first to catch his breath and he can’t help but chuckle when you lean up to chase after his lips

“i’m not going anywhere, you know-“

“i know, but you’re a really good kisser-“ you breathe out as you nudge your nose against his

hOo

you could use a breather too

“i like you, y/n. i like you a lot.” jimin whispers and leans down to press his forehead against yours

you feel your heart soaring in your chest at his confession and if it’s even possible your cheeks get even pinker

“i like you too.”

and even though the two of you are currently encased in a warm bubble of love, one single question pops up in your minds at the same time:

what the hell am i going to do now?

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

1K notes · View notes

vickyvicarious · 3 years

Note

Thiefsome for the ship asks, if you'd be willing?

Ooh, absolutely!

Who buys flowers for the others: Okay, for this one I'm actually thinking Parker. She canonically got a plant because Hardison told them to. I know Eliot also gets Parker a venus flytrap, but in my mind that's pretty much the only one Eliot ever gets, because Parker doesn't like most plants, and he's too embarrassed by the idea of giving flowers to either of them when he can't pretend it was someone else's idea. But Parker knows Hardison likes plants so she will sometimes get him flowers, and he gets super touched every single time and puts them in a place of honor/keeps them alive as long as possible.

Who makes the others coffee/tea: Eliot, of course! He makes them tea very pointedly, with purpose. Usually the purpose is 'go to bed' but sometimes it's 'this will help with your headache/cramps/sore throat/etc.' tea. As far as coffee goes, he insists he only makes coffee for himself, but there's always suspiciously enough for Hardison too and he always keeps the disgusting sweeteners he hates but Hardison loves on hand. (I don't imagine Parker drinking coffee on any regular basis.)

Who eats the most candy on Halloween: Parker! She sometimes like to go trick-or-treating, which in her case is pretty much just stealing candy from random people. Or one time, from the factories themselves. Hardison buys a bunch of candy too, but he doesn't hold a candle to Parker.

Who tries new recipes all the time: Both Eliot and Hardison. Eliot likes making up his own recipes, and often experiments in the kitchen. It's always delicious. Hardison likes making up his own recipes that no one else on earth would enjoy, and loves to literally experiment in the kitchen. It drives Eliot crazy, all the more because Hardison is technically proficient enough, he just has horrible taste.

Who genuinely likes pineapple on pizza: Eliot and Hardison. They both like most pizza toppings, actually. Parker likes them too, but she likes to deconstruct her pizza and eat the topping separately. The cheese separately too, sometimes. It's always messy and annoys the others.

Who wears hats on special occasions: Hardison! He has quite a variety of beanies and caps, and wears hats and scarves fairly often in the winter. Eliot sometimes wears baseball caps and Parker will occasionally wear hats for thieving/cons, but not on her own. Hardison also has several 'fancy' hats, including a top hat, a cowboy hat, and a hat that Parker and Eliot both hate because it is a 'Nate hat' and doesn't look right on him at all.

Who likes ‘90s R&B: Hmm... Hardison. I think he likes a wide variety of musical styles, from classical to EDM to rap to R&B. Eliot is more partial to classic rock and country, and Parker doesn't care much outside of not liking jazz.

Who likes long walks on the beach: Eliot and Parker. Eliot likes jogging on the beach/working out. Parker likes collecting shells and broken bottles and live crabs. Hardison likes laying in the sun, but does not enjoy sand getting everywhere so always protests beach visits.

Who buys wacky picture frames: Parker. She noticed Hardison had some pictures of them all, and she just started swapping out his normal frames for weird/kitschy ones whenever something caught her eye.

Who compares themselves to fictional/celebrity couples: Hardison. Hardison compares them all to superheroes, to celebrities, to fictional characters... Parker never really engages, but Eliot likes to call him a nerd/disagree just to irritate him. They usually wind up in long bickering banter about who they are actually most like, by the end of which Eliot is just as deep into the discussion as Hardison, but he never really starts it.

Who can solve a rubix cube: All three of them. Eliot has excellent spatial awareness/recall, Parker has a great sense for patterns, and Hardison not only is good at both of these things but got really into rubix cubes as a kid and memorized basically every possible way to solve one. He can do it fastest. He can do it blindfolded.

Who would wear Hawaiian shirts on vacation/during the summer: Hardison! Open over a tank top. Not super often, but sometimes. Parker will steal them from him too sometimes.

Who wears mismatched socks because they can’t keep up with the pairs: Hardison, sort of. He wears exclusively novelty/patterned socks when he isn't dressed for a con, and sometimes mixes them up on purpose. Eliot is very strict about laundry, and Parker is actually also super neat, so neither of them ever mix up their socks.

Send me a ship and I will answer with who does what!

#leverage #thiefsome #leverage ot3 #i was actually thinking of these guys when i reblogged that game so thank you!#inbox games #anonymous #replies

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daddyjackfrost · 3 years

Note

i'm not sure if i have anyy suggestions that you'll want to write, but i'll send them in as they come to mind

so excited for your writing ^^ no pressure though, best of luck with your studies!!

y/n is studying (something difficult, maybe pre-med or med school?) and is feeling a little drained and self-doubtful. she gets up from her space to take a second and is reminded of a time she spent with <whichever haikyuu boy you'd like to write about>. they hadn't gotten to spend much time together as a result of their busy schedule, so the memory of this weekend is especially special to her. start flashback of fluff they had met for dinner, spent time together, cuddled and slept (not 18+) together. they both woke up early but opted to stay in bed together, content in eachother's company, making small talk, laughing softly, fluffy stuff. y/n had brought up her struggles to <haikyuu boy of choice> and he'd been there for her to confide in. she knows its her dream, but casually wonders if she isnt cut out for it. he actively listens, offering comforting touches, until she's finished and then helps her talk it out until she's back up in confidence. more fluffy morning end lashback of fluff y/n feels better having remembered <hq boy>'s pep talk and resumes her efforts.

yeesh, idk how long/short/detailed/vague suggestions are supposed to be, so sorry! 😅 i'll try to be more vague, if you'd like, in the future

hi!! omg u r SO cute i’m in love. anyways, i love your suggestion! it’s amazing. and don’t worry, the more detail the better!

for this request, i’ve chosen Daichi. because i’m a daichi whore i believe in daichi supremacy

Warnings: none :) fluff, daichi x f!reader

alright, anyways, enjoy!

You stared at the piles of paper on your bed. You couldn’t even begin to recall what the different colours of the paper meant. You were just glad you had written it down on your phone.

“This is ridiculous,” you whispered to yourself.

Your back was aching, your muscles were sore, and your eyes burned from the constant strain. You had a final coming up and it was killing you in more ways then one.

“Is this even worth it? I mean, really, what are the chances of me getting into med school?”

You groaned and fell back on your pillow. You dragged your hands down your face. You had been spiraling down a tunnel of self-doubt and it was affecting you. You had begun talking to yourself even more than usual, especially since you cut contact from everyone for a couple of days.

Your phone chimed beside you and you turned your head to face it. You had promised yourself to turn it off, except you forgot.

Well, you didn’t forget, you just didn’t want too.

You picked it up and your eyes fell on the message that your boyfriend left you.

From: acab but not him🙄❣️

‘good evening, beautiful. make sure to eat something, yeah? and get some fresh air. you’ve got this babe, i believe in you❣️’

You smiled at the message. Unknowingly, a few small tears formed at the corners of your eyes. Daichi had a week long training camp that coincidentally aligned with your final. Now, Daichi was in Tokyo and you were cooped up in your room.

Daichi had made it his job to send you texts almost every hour to remind you he loved you and to eat. You didn’t think you could love him even more.

Due to his own busy schedule, Daichi and you hadn’t been able to spend too much time together before he left. But you knew that as soon as you had taken the final, you were going to spent three days in his arms.

You sent a quick text back, telling him you loved him and that you were going to get something to eat now.

You slowly slid out of bed, making your bed and your bones make noise out of agony. Your knees cracked and you looked down. “Just break,” you prayed.

When nothing happened, you huffed out an annoyed breath and made your way to your kitchen. You and Daichi had moved into an apartment two years ago, and you loved every part of it. Your home was your baby.

As you walked, your eyes fell upon the black leather jacket that laid jumbled up on the couch. Your thoughts immediately flashed to the weekend, the last time you had seen Daichi.

It was Friday night, which meant date night for you and the police officer, and it was perfect.

You parked your car outside of the Miyagi Police Station, waiting for Daichi.

You stood outside, enjoying the light breeze. Daichi had texted you to give him a couple minutes. Today was Friday, which meant date night for you and your lover.

You heard some ruckus and lifted your head, meeting Daichi’s warm gaze. He had a large grin etched onto his face and you felt your own lips pull into a smile.

Daichi walked up to you and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. “Hello, darling.”

You brushed away the few dark locks that fell on his forehead. “Hello, officer.”

Daichi’s eyes slightly narrows at the use of the word. He absolutely loved and hated when you called him officer. It did things to him.

“Come, let’s go. I’m starving.”

You nodded and pulled away from him, walking to the drivers seat. Daichi always insisted you drive when you picked him up because he wanted to ‘get his full of you’ because he was at work. You never truly understood it, but you liked his heated stare on you so you never said anything.

You and Daichi ended up going to your favourite restaurant. You went here a lot, and were now on first name basis with the manager and half of the employees.

You and Daichi both ordered your regulars and ate peacefully, with some small talk here and there. A hungry Daichi usually resulted in a quiet Daichi.

After dinner, you drove to the park by your house to get some fresh air and to work off some of the food you just ate.

Late night walks with Daichi were your favourite little activities you did with him. Daichi loved late night walks with you too. He loved watching the moon glow on your skin as you stared adoringly at the stars.

Daichi held your hand in his, gently swinging them. He wore black jeans and his favourite grey shirt, with his black worn out leather jacket you had gotten him a couple of years ago.

You kept your eyes on him. His skin glistened in the moonlight and you found him as beautiful as the stars that twinkled above him, if not more.

“What’re you thinkin’ bout, love?”

You turned your head, finding it completely unfair that someone so beautiful stood next to you.

“You,” you mumbled truthfully.

“Is that so?” Daichi’s voice came out teasingly.

You let go of his hand and skipped forward until you stood a couple of feet away from him. You pointed at him and he stopped, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

“You, Sawa, are the love of my life.”

Daichi’s eyes widened slightly and a flush of pink now rested on his face. Daichi cleared his throat but couldn’t help the grin that had replaced his smile.

“And you’re mine.”

You grinned at him and then continued to walk until you reached the hill that overlooked your neighborhood. You crouched down, and then sat down, pulling your knees to your chest.

Daichi soon followed, except he sat behind you, and spread his legs so you were sitting between them. He pulled you close to your chest, until your back rested completely against his chest.

You tilted your head back, resting it on Daichi’s shoulder. One of Daichi’s large, warm, hands laid on your stomach, rubbing softly. The other was playing with your hair.

This is it, you thought. I’ll never love anyone the way I love him.

You looked up at the stars. You had always had a fascination with the balls of of heat and energy. When you were a child, your dream was to become a star. You’re not quite sure when that dream led you on the path of medicine, but it did.

Daichi stared at you. It didn’t matter that you two had been together for almost six years, Daichi could never get over how beautiful you were.

The way your hair glistened in the moonlight, the way your eyes twinkled, as if you held the stars in them yourselves. Daichi stared at you the way you stared at the stars.

With complete and utter adoration.

Daichi’s eyes landed on your hands. He watched as they slight shook, and how your tried to make them stop.

He frowned. Your hands only shook when your were stressed.

As swiftly as he could, Daichi grabbed your shaking hands and held them together, complete engulfing them in his own.

“You’re shaking, love. What’s the matter?”

You froze. Caught.

Even though you should have been calm, happy even, since you sat under the stars with your lover, the final that loomed over your shoulder had your nervous system in shambles.

Daichi’s thumbs rubbed the backs of your hands as he waited for your response.

“I’m just nervous,” you mumbled. You hated speaking about up-coming tests or finals. You always had really bad anxiety when it came to any form of testing, and Daichi knew that.

He knew everything about you.

“What about?”

You sighed and extended your legs. Daichi had a way with words. Even when he didn’t speak much, his presence and silence alone spoke tenfold.

“Nothing, really,” you let out an awkward laugh. “You know I’m always a little bit nervous.”

Daichi wanted to press on the matter. He wanted you to speak to him, he wanted to be able to share your stress. But he also knew that you would talk to him when you were ready.

Daichi pressed a soft kiss on your neck. “Talk to me when you’re ready, love.”

You nodded. “I will.”

Daichi kissed the small space behind your earlobe. “Let’s go home, yeah?” You nodded, agreeing. Daichi stood up and then put out his hand for you. You grabbed it, and let him pull you up with ease.

You two began the journey home, reaching in a couple of minutes.

You and Daichi changed into your nightwear. You were wearing one of Daichi’s shirts, and he was just wearing grey sweatpants.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off his body, but managed to look away before he caught you.

Daichi slipped under the covers, and then lifted them. He patted his chest. “Come lay on me.”

You immediately obliged, jumping onto his chest, causing Daichi to let out a small grunt.

You let all your wait drop on Daichi’s body. Your head was in the crook of his neck, and your chest lay flat against his. You could feel his heartbeat against yours and it took you a moment to realize that both your hearts beat at the same time.

As one.

Daichi slid his left hand under your—his—shirt, rubbing your back. It was these moments he wanted to truly cherished. He knew you were stressed about the final that was coming up. He had put the date in his phone when you mentioned it.

Daichi realized that today had been the quietest days you two had had. But he didn’t mind. He loved everyday with you. The quiet, the loud, the hectic, and the crazy.

Daichi began to hum. He could feel the knots in your back, and he knew you should have a nice relaxing weekend before you began to study.

Before he knew it, Daichi heard your soft snores fill the air.

A wide smile broke out on his face. Daichi absolutely adored your sleeping face. All your worry lines disappeared and you looked the most at peace when you slept in his arms.

Daichi slightly pushed himself up. He wanted to be able to see your properly. His brown eyes softened at the sight of your hand against chest. You often called him a creep for staring at your sleeping face, but he always just shrugged it off.

After some time, Daichi found himself driting off to sleep, but not before he tightened his hold on you and kissed your forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”

Hours later, your eyes fluttered open, but you immediately cringed and shut them again.

The sun was facing directly at you. You had forgotten to close your blinds.

You tried to adjust your posture, but immediately stopped when you heard a low rumble from Daichi. No, you felt it, and you froze at the vibrations.

“Don’t move, love.”

Daichi’s voice was low and husky, and slightly dry. You lifted your head and found yourself still laying on his chest. Daichi’s arms were securely wrapped around you, his eyes were shut.

The sound of his morning voice hit you right in the stomach and you couldn’t help but brush your fingers against his cheekbones.

Daichi’s eyes shot open. His dark brown eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything stopped.

You looked so beautiful, Daichi thought.

“Good morning,” you whispered.

Daichi smiled at you and let his head drop back on the pillow. “It is a very good morning, indeed.”

You used your hands and slightly pushed yourself up, so you were now straddling Daichi’s waist. His eyes opened and landed on your nervous smile.

“What’s wrong?”

Daichi grabbed your hips and pushed himself up, so his back was against the headboard.

You now sat on his thighs, and his hold on you tightened a little bit.

You stared at the man in front of you. Even after having you sleep on him for hours, he still looked perfect. It pissed you off, especially since you knew you probably had some drool on your chin.

Daichi leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to your forehead. “Talk to me.”

You nodded and began to play with your fingers.

You couldn’t help but think of the final you had to take in a couple of days. It didn’t make sense, you thought. You had taken finals and tests before, but for some reason, the one you had in five days had disrupted your sleep and taken over your life.

“I’m so nervous for the final, Sawa. I feel like there’s a knot in my stomach and it keeps tightening. I can’t breathe.”

Daichi began to rub the skin above your hip with his fingers. He listened attentively. He was gonna let you talk first, getting everything off your chest.

“I know I always complain and then end up doing well, but what if this is the one I flunk? What if this is the one I end up failing? It’s so nerve wracking. I don’t even know if I wanna do this anymore.”

Daichi’s hands slipped under your shirt and he slowly began to massage your back and shoulder muscles. He wanted to offer you physical comfort.

He knew you were often a mess of nerves and anxiety a week before any test, and no matter how many times he assured you that you would do fine, you always ended up getting caught up in your head.

“I know it’s my dream. But at this point, dropping out sounds ideal. There’s enough doctors in the world, right? Maybe I should do something less nerve wracking.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. It felt nice to finally get your thoughts off your chest.

Daichi’s hands squeezed your hips in response. He hated hearing you talking yourself down. It made him feel so helpless, because for him, you were his everything. He had the upmost respect and belief in you.

“Y/n, love, from everyone in your life, you are the only one who doesn’t fully believe you can do this. I know medicine is a very hard and competitive occupation, but you know I believe in you. If anyone can power through this, it’s you.”

Tears had pooled in your eyes. Daichi had always been so good with words. You knew that Daichi had always been mature for his age, meaning his patience and abilityto comfort you was far better than anyone else’s.

His compassion and understanding was his greatest qualities. His calming aura always managed to break through all your walls. It was what made him such a good captain.

“What if I fail?”

You had mumbled your question, hoping he wouldn’t have caught it.

But he did.

Daichi leaned in and kissed your nose “You won’t. And if you do, then you fail. You shouldn’t be scared to fail, y/n. You should be scared to give up. If you fail, you can always take it again.”

You sighed and lightly nodded. Although you appreciated his words, you knew they would only comfort you for a day or two.

“Thank you, Sawa.”

You tried getting up from his lap, but Daichi had other plans. He grabbed your hips tightly and leaned in, kissing your lips.

You didn’t hesitate, you just began to kiss him back eagerly.

Daichi’s right hand slid up your back, pushing you into him.

Your lips moved together in sync, and you brought your hands to his hair, clutching the soft ends tightly.

Daichi slightly pulled away, only to gently kiss your lips again.

Before you could deepen it, he pulled away again.

“It’s not easy, y/n. But accomplishing your dream never is. You’re gonna do great, just like you always do. I believe in you, and it’s time you do as well.”

His words wrapped around your anxious thoughts and completely anguished them.

You nodded, your nose brushing his.

You closed your eyes and let your head drop on his shoulder. Daichi wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you flush against his chest.

You stayed in that position for hours.

You in Daichi’s lap, with his hands running up and down your back as he comforted you with his words of love and stories to keep your mind off everything.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to recall what exactly what exactly what you were doing.

As you recalled Daichi’s words, you let out a small breath.

He was right, you thought. You weren’t going to fail and you were going to be okay.

You grabbed the leather jacket, and slipped it on. It smelled of Daichi and it was exactly what you needed right now.

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a packet of ramen.

As you made the noddles, you unknowingly smiled the whole time.

Thinking of Daichi had lifted your spirits and you felt better.

He loved you, and he believed in you, and for you, that was enough.

MAN, THIS SUCKS. I HAD TO RE-WRITE IT LIKE FOUR TIMES GODDAMN.

anyways, i absolutely love and adore daichi, and this is kinda eh😬 so forgive me. I’d been swarmed w work the past week and have no creative juices left.

i will write about this handsome man again.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu asks #haikyuu scenarios #daichi #daichi sawamura #haikyuu daichi #fluff #haikyuu!!

64 notes · View notes

settersprouts · 3 years

Text

꒦ ikanaide : chapter three ! ꒦

病欠

. . : iwaizumi gets sick and doesn't tell oikawa. oikawa notices he's not at school and skips practice for the first time to take care of him.

or, iwaizumi doesn't like to take medicine and oikawa can cook.

sniffles. coughs. that's all that could be heard through the iwaizumi household at five am, the time hajime iwaizumi was supposed to be getting ready for school. hanako iwaizumi sighed, not ready to deal with a sick hajime. reluctantly making his way out of the bed he shared with aiya, he got a bucket, a couple of rags, and starting the trek to his son's room.

``hey-`` hanako started, but was interrupted by a coughing fit. ``hajime. how you feeling?``

his son smiled up at him grimly, wiping at the snot in his nose. ``like shit.``

``language.``

``sorry.``

hanako let out another sigh, wringing one of the rags out and placing the damp cloth on his forehead. ``symptoms?``

``cough, sneezing, my nose is runny- and my throat hurts,`` iwaizumi managed, his voice dry and scratchy.

``that bad, huh?`` hanako set the bucket down on the floor, pulling out his phone and thumbing at his screen. ``i'll text your coach and teachers to let them know you can't make it.``

iwaizumi nodded, letting out a small groan. his eyes suddenly flung wide open, and he sat up abruptly, scaring hanako a little. ``don't tell oikawa! he's going to try and skip school to take care of me, i'm sure.``

hanako chuckled, giving his son a little thumbs up and pushing him back down. ``i got it. i'll just let him figure it out himself.``

his son sighed in relief, letting his entire body relax. ``thanks, old man.``

``i'm not old. want some oatmeal?``

``that'd be great. thank you.``

a smile pulled at hanako's lips. ``alright, coming right up, kiddo.`` he made his way out of iwaizumi's room, leaving the door open so air could filter through.

``don't make it sweet! i hate it sweet!``

``i know that!``

hanako made his way into the kitchen, almost running into his wife. ``whoa- oh, good morning, love.``

``morning, hanako.`` aiya yawned, her face contorting into an expression of confusion. ``where's hajime? he should be getting his breakfast ready by now.``

``the kid's sick,`` hanako replied, kissing his wife on the cheek. ``i'm getting him some oatmeal for breakfast.``

aiya nodded, opening a drawer and pulling out a thermometer. she handed it to her husband. ``make sure to take his temperature, too. i want to know if i need to have a doctor over.``

hanako deadpanned, letting out a gruff laugh. ``babe, that's a meat thermometer.``

``oh, is it?`` she smiled apologetically, putting it back and switching it with the other thermometer. ``here, take this, then.``

he reached out to grab at the cool metal, letting it sit in his breast pocket as he got iwaizumi's oatmeal ready. ``can you go get him some cough medicine, or something for his throat? hajime says it's sore.``

his wife nodded, and padded over to the fridge, reaching above it to open the medicine cabinet. she sorted through bottles and bottles of over-the-counter medicine, before finally reaching the cough and sore-throat remedies. pouring a little bit into a plastic cup, aiya put the bottle back and closed the cabinet, placing the cup onto the tray with her son's water glass and oatmeal on it. ``there. have you called hajime's school, yet?``

hanako nodded. ``mhm. already done. hajime doesn't want oikawa-kun to know he's sick yet, so don't tell his mother. knowing her, she'll spill the beans somehow.``

aiya let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth as she did so. ``i understand. he'll probably want to skip school and tend to hajime all day.``

``that boy is something else.``

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

oikawa tapped his foot impatiently, standing at the intersection where he and iwaizumi usually meet up. they were supposed to get there early so oikawa could grab something from the convenience store- it was his nephew's birthday, after all, and he wanted to buy some red velvet cake mix.

he let out a sigh, pulling out his phone to check the messages he had with the ace.

› Messages with : Iwaizumi, Hajime

[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] go to sleep already, you idiot

[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] i know you're up watching volleyball matches

[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] it's late, get some rest or i'll hit you

¹¹⁻³⁹ ᴾᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] yeah, yeah, got it iwa-chan ಠ_ಠ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] you don't have to be so rude, you know

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] and why r u so obsessed w hitting me ?

¹¹⁻⁴⁰ ᴾᴹ

[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] goodnight

¹¹⁻⁴⁰ ᴾᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] goodnight, iwa-chan :D

¹¹⁻⁴¹ ᴾᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] morning, iwa (*ﾟｰﾟ)ゞ

⁰⁵⁻³⁰ ᴬᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] where r u 人´∀｀) i'm @ the intersection

⁰⁶⁻⁰⁴ ᴬᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] iwa we're gonna be late i need to go to the store φ(。。*)

⁰⁶⁻⁰⁵ ᴬᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] iwa-chan i'm leaving you >:p

⁰⁶⁻⁰⁷ ᴬᴹ

[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] im gonna kill you when i see you

⁰⁶⁻¹³ ᴬᴹ

despite what the messages ensued, he still hadn't left without iwaizumi. he let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. he really had to leave, but he didn't want the ace to be mad once he figured out oikawa had went on without him. oikawa inhaled through his nose, and out through his mouth. pushing aside the fear of a very angry iwaizumi showing up to first period with homicide on his mind.

the sun was rising and starting to shine brightly, slightly blinding oikawa as he glanced at the star. if iwaizumi were here, he would've already been geeking out about it to him, trying to annoy the vice. he wasn't really that obsessed with space and extraterrestrial life, oikawa just liked to annoy his best friends.

``hey, oikawa!`` the setter turned at his name being called, and was instantly greeted with someone running straight into him. arms wrapped around his torso in what he thought was a hug, but couldn't be sure, since all the wind was knocked out of him in the process. familiar tufts of pink-brown hair tickled his nose, and his lips pulled into a small, genuine smile. he wrapped his arms around the attacker's torso, too, breathing in the scent he considered a second home.

``hey, makki. morning.`` oikawa smiled, pulling away to see his friend's beaming face.

hanamaki linked arms with oikawa, pulling him along. ``c'mon, we're going to be late for class!``

oikawa looked down at his phone, checking the time. 06:19 AM, it read. ``makki, it's only six twenty. we have plenty of time.``

``but..`` makki groaned, making a big show of rolling his head back and exposing his neck to the sky. whether or not that was an impression of oikawa on one of his days, oikawa may never know. ``we can be early for once.``

``class doesn't start until seven thirty.`` oikawa sang, pulling away from makki's grip and dragging him along. ``plus, i gotta get something from the store for takeru's birthday.``

his companion made an 'o' shape with his mouth, succumbing to oikawa's charms and letting himself be lead to the nearest store. ``nice. what are you getting?``

``cake mix. red velvet.``

``red velvet? holy shit, can i come to the party?`` hanamaki gasped, giving his friend his full attention now. oikawa laughed, and nodded.

``yeah. i was planning on inviting you and mattsun anyways.`` he replied, scratching the back of his neck. ``iwa-chan gets a free pass, since my mom knows him.``

makki gasped in mock offense, holding his free hand to his heart. ``she knows me too! how come i don't get a free pass? does she not like me?``

oikawa shrugged. ``well, you're kind of.. how can i say this. um-`` he laughed nervously, ``-too energetic, for her taste?``

``this is atrocious. i even did her dishes for her, once.``

``key word, once.`` oikawa retorted, eyeing the store up ahead. ``oh hey, look, there's sakanoshita. think we'll find cake mix there?``

hanamaki shrugged. ``probably. doesn't karasuno's coach work there?``

oikawa nodded. ``hopefully tobio-chan didn't stop by on his way to school. i think i might throw up if i see him.``

``how immature.``

the two of them made their way into the small store, muttering a little "pardon the intrusion!" to the staff, who turned out to be a short, older woman, not karasuno's coach. they both let out a sigh of relief- anything could've happened if it was ukai who was sitting in the little swivel chair behind the counter. possibly just them having to endure the shameless torments from the latter, but who knows.

oikawa and hanamaki glanced at the small signs labeling the aisles, quickly finding the one they were looking for and walked down to the middle, where all the cake mixes lay. the captain sifted through the red velvet mixes while the other eyed the brownie batter with starry eyes. oikawa skimmed the backs of four boxes he settled on, tossing them all into the little basket he had picked up as soon as they walked in. turning to his partner, he couldn't help but let the wide smile overcome his facial features. hanamaki was practically drooling at the pictures of the brownies on the boxes.

he padded over to the wing-spiker and picked up a box, tossing it into the basket as well and waltzed out of the aisle- hanamaki at his heels. ``whoa, are you seriously buying that for me?``

oikawa shook his head. ``for me. to make for you when you come over later.`` he stuck out his tongue at his partner, smiling at the laugh he was able to get out of him.

``sure, whatever you say.``

the captain turned to the lady at the desk, reading the nametag on her shirt. hana sakanoshita. ah. so she was the owner. sakanoshita smiled at him, taking the bag out of his hands and scanning the barcodes on the backs of the boxes. ``find everything okay, honey?``

``yep, great, thank you! could we also get two packs of that strawberry gum?`` he pointed, putting on one of his award-winning smiles. she seemed to melt at this and nodded, quickly bagging up his stuff and handing his credit card back.

``you have a good day, boys.`` she said, waving at them as they exited. the two smiled and waved back, turning towards aoba johsai and resuming their trek.

hanamaki checked his phone, letting out a sharp whistle. ``nice. we didn't take as long as i expected- we have fifteen minutes 'till first period.``

oikawa grinned. ``told you so.``

``yeah, yeah. oh- by the way, where's iwaizumi?`` hanamaki looked around as if he were looking for the teen, turning back to oikawa once he figured out he really wasn't there with them. ``he walks with you, right?``

the latter shrugged, pulling out his own gum pack and popping a strip into his mouth. ``dunno. he didn't show at the intersection where we meet up, so i just went along without him. he didn't answer any of my texts, either.``

``huh.`` hanamaki said, putting his index finger and thumb on his chin in a thinking pose. ``that's weird. maybe he overslept?``

``doubt it. the man sleeps with his phone on so loud, he'll wake up immediately as soon as he hears one of my texts. plus, he has like, fifty alarms back-to-back to wake him up.`` oikawa replied, shutting down makki's theory so fast, he didn't even see it coming.

makki sighed. ``ah. i see.`` he shook his head as to clear his mind of any stray thoughts, and extended his hand. ``i want some gum. hand it over, peasant.``

``yes, my lord.`` oikawa said jokingly, gracefully whipping out the pack of strawberry gum and placing it in his hands. he folded makki's fingers around it, never breaking eye contact with his teammate. ``here it is. do what you wish with it.``

the two snickered at their antics, slinging their arms around one another. ``we're so going to be late.``

``yeah, probably.``

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

``oh, yeah, we're so sorry ms. sato. we got stuck in traffic- there was an accident over by my house.`` makki sighed dramatically, shaking his head slightly. ``we would've gotten a late pass, but we didn't think we were going to be so late.``

ms. sato shook her head quickly, smiling at the teen. ``it's okay, hanamaki-kun. just try not to let this happen too much, okay?``

hanamaki nodded. ``yes, ma'am.`` oikawa mentally facepalmed at his antics, and the two walked to the back to sit down in their seats, next to matsukawa, who was struggling to keep a laugh in.

``jesus,`` matsukawa breathed, ``the amount of bullshit in that was immaculate.``

``right?`` he and hanamaki fistbumped, grinning widely like the idiots they were.

oikawa sighed, turning his head slightly to talk to iwaizumi, then stopping himself before he could say anything. iwaizumi's desk stood empty next to his own. the captain frowned, checking his phone for any recent texts from the ace. nothing popped up.

makki slung an arm over oikawa, concern lining his features. ``hey, what's up?``

``he still isn't here.`` he pointed to iwaizumi's desk, the frown growing by the minute. ``and he's not answering. makki, i'm worried.``

a head full of black, unruly hair obscured the view he had of his phone. matsukawa laughed, stepping back. ``so he didn't tell you guys?`` when hanamaki and oikawa looked at him with confused expressions, he chuckled, and continued. ``guys, he's sick. coach was talking about it with ms. sato this morning. if you got here earlier you would've known.``

the captain facepalmed. ``of course, that makes sense. why couldn't he have told me though?``

``dunno.`` mattsun ignored the small pout resting on his captain's lips, shoving at his shoulder a bit. ``lighten up. he probably didn't want you to skip school and take care of him.``

oikawa let out a puff of air. ``yeah, okay. you're probably right.`` he was about to continue but ms. sato had started class, and a comfortable silence fell upon them as they gave the woman their full attention. makki and mattsun glanced at oikawa, worry clearly etched on their faces. perhaps they shouldn't have told him what happened with his best friend.

``oikawa,`` ms. sato supplied, stalking over to his desk and setting two thick packets on the hard wood. ``here's iwaizumi-kun's work. i trust you'll be able to get this to him?``

the latter sighed, looking up towards his sensei with the fakest smile he could muster. ``yes, sato-san, i'll give this to him as soon as i see him.``

ms. sato smiled, patting the boy's head and walking back to the front of the class. ``alright, so, has anyone written down the notes on the board?``

oikawa glanced at the chalkboard, internally groaning as he noticed it was completely filled with notes. where the hell did she find the time to write all that?

he let out the fifth-hundredth sigh that day, picking up his pencil and getting to work. iwaizumi totally owed him.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

``you want to, what?`` coach irihata stared at his pupil, shock painting his features. oikawa stood before him, fumbling with his practice clothes, a faint blush plastered over his cheeks and nose. ``you want to skip practice?``

``yes.`` oikawa nodded. ``it's only for today, so i can go home and take care of iwa-chan. he has a lot of work to catch up on,`` he added, holding up the many papers he had collected from his professors in each class, since his and iwaizumi's timestables were identical.

irihata stared at him some more, then shook his head quickly, smiling at him. ``alright. i don't see why not.``

oikawa brightened, clearly glad by the news. ``thank you so much! i promise i'll make it up to you!`` he chimed, switching his volleyball shoes for a pair of regular sneakers. ``all your meals this week, on me!``

``you don't have to- and he's out the door.`` irihata sighed, glancing at the now agape gym door. the warm afternoon breeze rushed in, leaving an unpleasant, humid feeling. mizoguchi came up behind him, watching oikawa sprint off into the distance. ``that boy is something else, isn't he?``

``definitely.`` mizoguchi laughed, walking forward to close the doors. ``iwaizumi's lucky to have a good friend like him.``

the older coach nodded. ``we're all glad to know him.``

dammit, someone's talking about me, oikawa thought, as he sneezed for the seventh time since leaving aoba johsai. he rubbed his nose, pissed off at the irritation of his sensitive organ. his legs already burned- he had sprinted all the way to the intersection, and was now leaning on a streetlamp, catching his breath. he probably should've put on his knee brace if he knew he was going to exert a little energy on running home, but he was in a rush.

pulling out his phone, he quickly navigated to his email, frowning at the lack of messages from his dear friend hajime iwaizumi. he hadn't read the texts either, so he probably was really exhausted. slipping the device back into his pocket, he started the rest of his trek home, popping another strip of gum into his mouth.

the grocery bag swinging on his arm contained all the contents oikawa thought iwaizumi would need : some cough and cold medicine, a couple of boxes of tissues, a mask for himself, disposable rags, and a heating pad. the materials cost him about ¥800 each, which wasn't that expensive.

finally, after what had seemed like forever, the captain had arrived at iwaizumi's house. there were no cars in the driveway, which meant his parents weren't home. what were they thinking, leaving poor iwa-chan alone while he's sick? oikawa frowned at this. what a silly idea.

he flipped up the doormat, grabbing the key that was strategically placed underneath and unlocked the door. pushing it open, he let out a little ``yahoo~ anyone home?`` to let iwaizumi know he was there. he wasn't expecting a reaction, so seeing iwaizumi come downstairs to greet him kind of scared him out of his wits a little bit.

``jesus! iwa-chan, can't you warn a dude first?`` oikawa panted, placing a hand over his heart. the ace deadpanned, walking over and snatching the bags out of his hands.

``what the hell do you think you're doing here? i'm sick, go home.`` he retorted, his eyebrows furrowing so much, they looked like they were attached to his eyes. he sifted through the bag, pausing once he realized what the plastic bag contained. ``what is this?``

oikawa rolled his eyes, taking the bag back and setting its' contents on the kitchen counter. ``it's for you. you're sick, so i decided to skip practice to come here and take care of you, and to reteach everything that you missed today.`` he replied nonchalantly, shoving iwaizumi towards the direction of his bedroom. ``go back to bed, i'll cook you some lunch, since i'm sure you didn't eat yet.``

iwaizumi didn't reply, because (a) he was right. and (b) he was shocked that the toorū oikawa skipped volleyball practice for him.

``anyways,`` oikawa said, opening his fridge and scanning its' contents. ``how do you feel about egg?``

``i can eat it. i don't feel nauseous or anything,`` iwa replied, sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. ``and wait- you're going to cook?``

the setter turned around, tying an apron around his waist. ``yeah?``

iwaizumi blinked, shaking his head and leaning down on his forearms. ``nothing. continue. don't burn down my kitchen.``

oikawa grinned, having just been granted permission to make his best friend's food. ``alright! on it, iwa-chan!``

``shut up and start cooking.``

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

``you have to take it, iwa-chan!``

``NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!`` iwaizumi jumped onto his couch, holding a fork towards oikawa like a weapon. ``GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME.``

oikawa let out yet another sigh. ``jeez, if i knew you were going to be this bratty about taking your medicine, i wouldn't have came.`` he took another dangerous step towards iwaizumi, holding out a glass of water and a small cup of liquid cough medicine. ``iwa-chan, if you don't take this, you'll never get better.``

``so? that thing's disgusting.`` iwaizumi fake-retched, the look of disgust on his face almost believable. he should've taken the drama course at school.

another step. ``you seem to have forgotten that i have a kid nephew, who i always got to take his medicine, no matter how big of a tantrum he threw about it.`` another step. ``you're acting like a toddler. just take your medicine and get better.``

``assikawa, if you so as much take one more goddamn step towards me, i'll kill you.`` iwaizumi growled, clenching the fork tighter. of course he wouldn't kill him, he'd just said that to frighten him. somehow, oikawa didn't seemed phased, and took another step.

``hajime iwaizumi. if you don't come down off that couch and take your medicine right now, so help me god, i will bring my mother here and she will be furious when she realizes how much of a tantrum you're putting up right now.`` the setter mused, shaking the glass of water like he was calling him towards him, like a dog. iwaizumi gulped. the aura surrounding oikawa was downright terrifying. his eyes seemed almost lifeless, and it scared the wits out of him. ``on the count of three. if you haven't taken the medicine by then, i'm calling her. one.``

iwaizumi flinched, backing up slightly. could he make it out the front door without oikawa catching him? probably not. his legs were longer, so he'd cover more ground easily.

``two.``

how bad would the punishment be if he just didn't take the medicine? it's not like oikawa would actually call his mother, he wouldn't do that. right?

``three-``

``okay!`` iwaizumi jumped off the couch, grabbing the medicine and pouring it down his throat. he made a face of disgust, snatching the glass of water out of his hand and gulping that down too. he shuddered, trying to force himself to keep the atrocious liquid down. ``there. happy?``

``very.`` oikawa grinned, patting iwaizumi's head. ``good job.``

the ace burned with pride at the praise, letting oikawa's nimble fingers tread through his hair. ``thanks for coming over.``

``of course.`` his friend replied, giving the shorter a warm hug. ``don't mention it. i'll skip practice for you every time.``

``you better not.``

oikawa smiled. ``no promises.``

─── sick day.

chapter 4 !

#oikawa tooru #sickfic #sickness #iwa's sick #iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi #iwaoi fluff

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

“I’m going to stand on the ground like a skyscraper”

Is there a necklace that you wear all the time? No. I haven’t worn a necklace in years. How often do you wear skirts? Never. Do you enjoy baking? I used to, especially during the holidays. I haven’t done any baking the past few years, though. Do you have a large kitchen? No, it’s really small. Is anything sore on your body at the moment? Of course.

Do you like 3D movies? No. Where were you 3 hours ago? Sitting right here on my bed. Have you ever heard of Hot Chelle Rae? Yeah. I liked a couple of their songs. Do you know where Poland is? I know it’s in Europe. Are you afraid of dying? Yes. Are you wearing socks right now? Always. Do you speak your mind? I keep a lot to myself. If you found a wounded bird, what would you do? I honestly don’t know. I’ve never encountered a wounded bird. Ever rode on an elephant? No. Have you ever had braces? Yes, but not for my teeth.

“Cause I finally realize that I can’t get you off my mind”

Have you ever eaten a crayon? No. Do you like strawberries? Yeah. I haven’t had any in years, though. Wrestling or boxing? Neither. When's the last time you went to the mall? Last December. Have you ever gone Christmas Caroling? I have, actually. A few of us from the psych club I was in at my community college went caroling one year to a few different nursing homes. It was nice, they seemed to enjoy it. What song do you never get tired of? There’s numerous songs that will always be a favorite of mine. Do you have a favorite chef? No. Do you know who Travis Pastrana is? Yeah. What song pumps you up and makes you feel good? Hmm. What's bothering you right now? My back and the fact that I don’t feel well.

Favorite flavor of gum? Minty flavors. Does your school have air conditioning? How many mirrors do you have in your home? 5 that I know of for sure. That doesn’t include handheld mirrors, though. What does your wrapping paper look like for presents this year? I haven’t bought any, yet. Do you like Jay-Z? I’ve only liked a couple of his songs. However, the Linkin Park and Jay-Z collab album was/is dope.

“we’re gonna party like it’s your birthday”

What time was it 14 hours ago? 5:30PM. What's the craizest thing that happens in your hometown? Uh, high crime rates. :X Have any of your friends ever stabbed you in the back? Yes. What's your favorite city? Beachy, touristy cities throughout California. Have you ever laid on a hammock? I think I have as a kid. Who's the most famous person you met? Jamie Lee Curtis. Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend stolen from you? No. Where do you want to live someday? Near the beach. I’d love to have a beach home one day. Do you like your eyes? I wish I had blue or green eyes instead. Do you wear a watch? Nope. Do you like peanut butter? Yes. Do you tan easily? If I spend a day at the beach I’ll sunburn and then it turns into a tan. That’s the only time I spend a long period of time outdoors. Do you have sensitive skin? Yes. Do you care if people smoke/drink? Not in general, no. If it becomes a problem then yes. Has anyone ever gives you roses? Nope.

“every little thing that you do, I’m amazed by you”

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Sigh. I dozed off around 5AM and slept until 7AM and here we are now at 7:53AM. I don’t understandddd. D: I’m going to definitely attempt more sleep, but I have to call my doctor soon. Do you hate it when babies cry? If it’s loud and excessive it gets overwhelming and annoying. Would you like to get snake bites? (the piercing) Not now, but I wanted them back when I was like 16. Would you move to a new state/country to be with the one you love? That’s one of those situations I’d have to be in to know what I’d do. It’s hard for me to even imagine cause I’ve never even been close to that before. It’s also hard for me to imagine ever moving far away from my family. I think I’d try to work something else out to be honest. Like, maybe they wouldn’t mind picking up and moving here? Why would I have to move? What is your name? Stephanie. What do you plan on buying in the future? Christmas presents for my fam soon. Who is your favorite "That '70 Show" character? I don’t have one. I actually watched that show during its original run, but I tried again years later when I was older and couldn’t get into it. There is a mummy behind you. What do you do? Uh, run? What do you think of Miley Cyrus? I like her. Do you tend to think you are always right? Absolutely not. What was your favorite toy as a child? Barbies. I was obsessed. Do you think more about your funeral or wedding? Uh, neither. Dinosaurs or unicorns? Unicorns, I guess. You need new jeans. Where do you go? I haven’t bought a new pair of jeans in years. I’d probably look at JCP first since that’s where I used to get them. I always found the perfect fit there. What do you think about Maroon 5? I like a lot of their music.

“someone pinch me, I must be dreaming again”

Have you ever snuck into an R-rated movie when you weren't old enough? Nah. How many Emily's do you know? I don’t know any. Have you ever slept in a tent outside? No. What's your favorite kind of Girl Scout cookie? I like all of ‘em really except for the coconut ones. Their newer cookie, Lemonades, are quite delicious. What do you hear at the moment? An ASMR video. Why do you think a lot of people left Myspace for Facebook? Facebook became cooler for some reason. I remember not wanting to make the move at all, I thought Facebook was lame lol. I just did it because everyone literally left. I don’t know about everyone else, but when it happened for me it was soon after graduating high school and Facebook was for college students, so I guess we just graduated from Myspace or something. *shrug* It’s crazy how quickly it flip flopped, though. Myspace became lame and now we all kinda laugh about it. Do you watch the Olympics? Nope. Have you ever been to Minnesota? No. What's the strangest thing you've seen on TV? Hmm. What do you miss most about elementary school? I miss being elementary school ages the most, but also school was fun back then. I liked the projects and music class and this thing called field day that we did on the last day of school every year that consisted of like relay games and whatnot. It was fun. Anything funny happen to you while you were at Wendy's? Uhh, no. I very rarely even go to Wendy’s. It’s been awhile. When's the last time you picked up a stick? I have no idea.

How often do you have camp fires? Never. I’d like to do bonfires in the fall.

“honestly, I haven’t been happy for a long time”

How long has your computer been on? Hours. Do you like chips and salsa? I used to love chips and salsa. I can’t eat spicy food anymore, though. :( Do you have any pictures of the guy you like? There’s no such guy at the moment. Ever touched a fish? I don’t think so. Maybe as a kid with my pet fish. When's the last time you uploaded pictures onto Facebook or Myspace? I uploaded a new profile picture last month on Facebook. Do you have any band-aids on right now? Nope. Ever had a blister? Yes. Not fun. Do you watch the show The Hard Times or RJ Berger? No. Have you ever voted for anything? Yeah, for elections and other smaller stuff. Do you like high top shoes? I can’t wear them cause they’re hard for me to get my foot into. Do you think those nerd glasses are cool? What are nerd glasses, exactly?

Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band/singer? Yes. Have you ever worn a tie? No. Have you ever made dinner for someone? No, cause I don’t cook. Do you only listen to your muisc loud? No. I like to listen to it at a comfortable level. It varies, but never super loud.

“my give a damn’s busted”

Have you ever taken drama class? I actually did take two drama classes in community college. :O Shocking, I know. Have you ever rode a mechanical bull? Nooo. That would be very dangerous for me to do and I’d never even attempt it. Have you ever played on a basketball team? No. Ever stayed in a motel? Yes. What number was your jersey in high school? I didn’t have a jersey, I didn’t play any sports. Have you ever choked on something? Yes. I had one really traumatic experience that changed how I take my medicine ever since. That happened almost 10 years ago now, but ever since I’ve had to crush my pills. When I tried taking pills again not long after it happened, it literally felt like my throat was closing up every time and I was terrified of it getting lodged again. That day was really scary, my dad literally almost had to put his finger down my throat. Do you wear a belt? Nope, I only ever wear leggings. I’ve actually never worn a belt before, though. Do you have a rug in your room? No. Do you go camping during the summer? Nope. I have no interest at all in doing that. Do you carry a purse everywhere you go? Not anymore, but I used to. In most recent years it was a mini backpack. Where's your favorite place to get coffee? Honestly, I’m a basic bitch and just go to Starbucks, ha. It’s nearby and convenient and yeah. Plus, people hate on it but I actually like it. *shrug* I get really into it when they come out with their winter drinks, like they have now. I wish we had a Tim Hortons so I can see what that hype is all about. What's the last time you searched on Google? When’s the last time I searched on Google? Earlier. Which of these singers have the best voice: Katy Perry or Usher? I think they both sing well. They’re very different, you can’t really compare. What food is your weakness? Boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings from Wingstop. How many unread emails do you have right now? I don’t feel like checking at the moment.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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fanficimagery · 5 years

Text

Imagine being a pseudo daughter to one of the most feared vampires in existence. Godric's needed elsewhere for an important meeting, so he's decided to leave you in the care of his eldest progeny that you haven't seen in many years.

Eric X Reader

The last you'd seen of Eric the Viking, he was sneering down at you and arguing with Godric about taking in a pet human at such a young age. Vampires, before they decided to come out of the coffin, had ransacked the halfway house your ex-addict of a mother was raising you in and you ended up being the sole survivor of that horrendous night. Not one vampire had expected to come across a child and a female vampire, Isabelle, took you back to her nest and presented you to the area Sheriff with fear in her eyes.

Godric, who'd been the Sheriff and the oldest being in the room, had taken in your blood splattered appearance and refused to have any more harm brought down upon you. You didn't know what it was that made Godric spare you that night so long ago, but you were grateful for it.

Now at the age of twenty-two, you're sitting pretty well for a human in a world where vampires had made themselves known. You were untouchable and many vampires hated the fact that Godric doted on a blood bag which is why you're about to be reintroduced to Godric's first Child that hated you so long ago in hopes that he had changed and would offer you some sort of protection.

Having forgone the long line in front of Fangtasia, Godric led you in through the back entrance and let himself into Eric's office. You took a seat on the edge of the leather couch, crossing one knee over the other and then clasping your hands over your top knee as you wait patiently.

It doesn't take long for the door to open again, the all too familiar Viking striding in. Only this time, his hair is shorter than you remember and you're not a little girl anymore. You can appreciate a good looking man and holy hell Eric the Viking is the hottest specimen you've ever laid eyes on. Godric lightly clears his throat and you quickly glance at him, tensing at his twinkling eyes. Fuck. He caught you checking out his progeny.

The statuesque female vampire entering behind Eric is vaguely familiar and her leering smile catapults her name to the forefront of your mind. "Pam," you muse. "Long time no see."

"Well, well. The little brat is all grown up. How delicious."

You wrinkle your nose at her, chuckling. Then glancing over at Eric, your grin falters. Remembering your manners, you bow your head in a show of respect. "Sheriff Northman."

His eyebrows raise slightly. "Y/N." He looks back over to Godric sitting in his chair and he takes a seat across from his own desk without making a fuss about it. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"A meeting's come up. I need someone to keep an eye over Y/N and our nest is not an option."

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

"What he means is that Stan's made one too many attempts on my life," you huff. "Apparently I can't be trusted to not antagonize him if Godric's not home."

With a deadpan expression, Godric says, "You threw glitter on him and called him Edward Cullen."

"For the last time, it was Isa's fault. She gave me too much to drink!"

"You were not of age to be drinking at the time of the incident."

"Don't be judgey," you then immediately frown.

Pam looks rather gleeful and Eric pained. He sighs, garnering your attention. "If you're to stay here, you're not going to sit on your ass. You will work."

"She's not getting on those poles of yours."

"Yeah. No," you agree with Godric. Meeting Eric's gaze, you say, "I can mix drinks. Do you have room for a bartender?"

Taking a moment, he eventually nods. "Our current bartender is not meant for social interactions. Chow will be glad to be able to get back to the books."

"Then it's settled." Godric takes his stand and Eric's quick to follow suit as to not disrespect his Maker. "I'll be back within a week."

Left alone with Eric and Pam, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from blurting something that would annoy the vampires. Seconds tick by and you lose the battle.

"Fair warning, I'm not putting electrical tape on my nipples. I keep up with Fangtasia online for Godric and I've seen what people wear out there."

Pam leers and Eric pinches the bridge of his nose. With a sigh, he says, "Pam will take you shopping. Wear something that'll attract the clientele, not put them off."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

The following night, Pam snaps pic after pic of your outfit. She's far too amused by the strategically messy buns on either side of your head and the leather bustier you'd chosen which bears small silver studs covering your breasts and down your sides. She immediately approved of the plaid mini-skirt and she paired it with a pair of black leather, knee-high boots. Your fingers were adorned with several silver rings, and the Crest necklace representing which nest you came from hanging around your neck had to be tucked inside your cleavage less you scare off the vampire customers.

"Oh man. I'm so glad Godric is not here," you laugh once you see the outfit put together, fixing your underwear in the mirror and then smoothing your skirt back down. "He'd glare at everyone who came up to the bar."

"So how exactly does that work when you wanna get laid if Godric glares off all the competition?"

You shrug. "Godric doesn't deny me my happiness. His claim on me isn't sexual."

"So you don't get to ride my Grandsire's dick?"

"What?!"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Snorting in laughter, your head then falls forward and you groan into the palms of your hands. "Jesus, Pam. No. Just no." Before she can come back with another crass remark, the bathroom door is swinging open and Eric's form looms in the doorway. You stare up at him, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

He gaze drifts up and down your form before the corner of his lips twitch. "Cute."

"Ain't I?" You strike a pose and Pam snaps another pic. Whirling around, you point a threatening finger at her. "If you send that to Godric, I swear I won't send you any blackmail photos of Isa or Stan when I get back home."

Pouting, Pam pockets her phone. And just as you're about to turn back around, cold fingertips brush along the back of your left thigh. Whirling around, eyes wide, you slap at Eric's hands. "No touchy!"

This time it's Eric pouting though he seems confused about it. "I don't think I like this."

Pam snorts. "That's a first.”

"It's too short."

"That's the whole point," you groan. "Skin attracts both human and vampire. If you turn into Daddy Godric, I swear I'll scream. Let me live, Northman."

"Oh he wants to be Daddy all right. Just not in the sense you're thinking."

You frown at Pam's words and Eric glares at his progeny. "Not now, Pamela."

"Yes, Master," she drawls. Then winking at you, she reaches forward and boldly fixes your breasts in your bustier. "There. Now the girls are ready for work."

"They were ready before," you deadpan. "You just wanted to get your hands on the goods."

"I seized the only opportunity I was ever going to have. Now come on," she turns you back around and starts marching you towards the exit, "we open the doors in a couple of minutes."

- X - X - X -

Mixing drinks comes fairly easy to you and Eric seems impressed with how quick you keep up with the orders. Some humans make their interest in you known, but when they realize you aren't a vampire their interest is quick to dwindle. The vampires, however, expect you to fall at their feet and are annoyed when you won't meet their gaze straight on.

"Is everything okay here?" Pam drawls, perched on a bar stool that was empty just a split second before.

Looking across the bar, you quirk an eyebrow at the silently fuming vampire. "I'm not sure. Are we?"

"Yes," he grits out. "Just give me my True Blood."

Forcing a smile, you grab the heated bottle from behind the bar and slide it over. The vampire is quick to take his drink and disappears to go sulk in a darkened corner. "Even in death that asshole can't comprehend that no means no."

"Let me guess, he was on the verge of having a bitch fit because he couldn't glamour you?"

"Got it in one." Pam sat with you every half hour or so, she silently watching from her seat at the bar and making sure the vampires behaved themselves properly with you. The last thing anyone wanted was having a single hair on your head being damaged and word getting back to Godric. Silently cleaning a glass with a dish rag, you let your gaze roam until settling on a blonde human who sticks out like a sore thumb. "Hey, Pam? Who's that?" You ask, slightly gesturing towards the woman in question.

Pam barely glances in the direction you gestured to before huffing. "Sookie Stackhouse," she drawls. "Pretty little thing that currently holds Eric's affections."

"From the look of her companion, it appears she's already been Claimed."

"As if that'd stop Eric."

"Point." Every now and then you glance at the blonde female, not bothering to hide your curiosity or apparent dislike. "Why is she even here dressed like that? She's like a lamb being brought to the slaughter. The virginal sacrifice." Pam snorts, her blood red painted lips stretching into a smile. The blonde's dark haired companion turns to stare at you, glaring. "What? You know it's true," you say, uncaring that the male vampire can hear you. "She needs to be at Sunday Mass, not Fangtasia."

"Ladies," Eric greets. "How are we doing tonight?"

"Lovely," you muse. "I've just spotted the little treat Pam tells me you're rather infatuated with."

Eric pauses and then clears his expression of any emotion. "She's of no importance."

"Really?" You grin. "Does she know that? Because she's marching over here like a woman on a mission." Her blonde ponytail swings back and forth, and the white sundress with a cherry pattern is just too much. "Ugh. You can do so much better."

Just as she makes it to the bar where Eric is leaning against, you pick up a glass and start wiping it clear of smudges. Her voice is rather grating and it doesn't sit well with you at how disrespectful her tone is towards Eric, nor the fact that her vampire is letting her be so disrespectful to his Sheriff.

When the blonde practically makes a demand that Eric needs to look into some rogue vampire hanging around Bill's house, you share a look with Pam- your expression practically scoffing is this twat serious?

"Excuse me," the blonde huffs, suddenly slapping a hand atop the bar.

You give her your attention, one eyebrow raising. "Yes?"

"I don't like name calling."

"Okay?" You muse, brow furrowing.

"And I don't like the fact that you're calling me a- a-"

Your entire body tenses and your eyes narrow when her words click. "Sookie's a mind reader," Eric says.

"Eric!" Sookie then snaps, not happy he's sharing her secret.

Expression darkening, you glare at the blonde. "Excuse me, but I'd appreciate it if you don't read my fuckin' mind. Just because you can doesn't mean you should." Looking as if she's ready to defend her actions, you shut her down. "A person's thoughts are private for a reason. What you're doing is mind rape."

She gasps. "I would never!"

"Yeah? Then what would you call what you just did to me? Did I give you permission to peek behind the curtains? No. I didn't. So if you know what's good for you, stay out." And putting to use a mind barrier that a friend of Godric's nest told you of, you concentrate on shutters slamming down in your mind and mentally push at the vision of Sookie you conjure up in your mind's eye.

Sookie gasps in pain, grasping at her temples, and her vampire companion practically towers over the bar and snarls in a rage at you. There's a blur in front of you and suddenly Eric is pinning Bill to the far wall across the bar. Humans shriek in fear and the vampires are smart enough to move far away from the pissed off Sheriff. Pam starts clearing out the bar just as Sookie gets her bearings back, she stumbling over to defend her vampire boy toy.

"Retract your fangs before I yank them out with glee and wrap you up in silver until Y/N's vampire gets back to dole out his punishment."

"Eric, don't!" Sookie shouts, pushing at him. "Let Bill go."

Walking over to the struggling vampire within Eric's grasp, you say, "That's tame compared to what Godric would do. Are you sure you’re of his blood?" You tease. Eric frowns over his shoulder at you and you grin.

"Godric? Who's Godric?" Sookie asks. Bill, as if possible, pales under Eric's hand.

Grinning at Sookie, you reach for the chain around your neck and pull up on the Crest that settled beneath your bustier. When Godric's crest is visible, you say, "Your worst nightmare, little girl." Then dropping the necklace to leave it on display, your hands then find purchase on your hips as you give the blonde your best haughty expression. "Now leave and take your vampire with you. If I hear about you being disrespectful to Sheriff Northman ever again I'll make sure to fully submerge you into the vampire world since your pesky human brain can't seem to comprehend how to properly conduct yourself with your elders."

Entirely too gleeful looking, Eric releases Bill. The dark haired vampire stumbles aside, grabbing Sookie's hand within his own before he says, "I didn't know. My apologies."

Sookie looks entirely too affronted by his apology, but you manage a small dip of your head to show him an ounce of respect he doesn't even deserve at this point. "Don't let it happen again." And before Sookie can further offend anyone else, Bill leaves in a burst of speed with her in tow.

"You're entirely too adorable," Pam drawls. "No one has been able to shut Miss Stackhouse up like you."

"It wasn't my intention," you frown. "I was going to leave her alone, but I couldn't let her disrespect slide. If she's to live as a vampire's companion, then she must respect the laws as if she were a vampire herself."

"I was wrong about you," Eric muses. "You're a lot more fascinating for a human than I'd given you credit for."

"Yeah, yeah. Drinks are on you tonight, Sheriff. Your little mind reader put me in a bad mood."

Later that evening (technically it's very early the next morning) you're groaning awake and regretting every decision you made the previous night. After your run-in with the little half fae, you were left in a sour mood that was only made better by numbing your mind and putting on cozy pajamas. Eric had closed down the club and then gave you free reign of the bottles behind the bar, and Pam immediately took advantage. For a good hour or so, you completely forgot you had the tolerance of a human.

"Fuckity fucking hell," you utter as you curl in on yourself under the blanket. "Never again."

"Never?" You hear the Viking drawl from the darkness of your cocoon. "I must say you're particularly amusing when you can't handle your liquor. And quite the dancer. Such a shame Godric banned you from the poles."

"Oh god." Removing the blanket from your face, you blink against the lighting from above before focusing as best you can on Eric who's smiling at you. Actually smiling. "Please tell me no one else saw."

"I believe Pam took a video."

You cringe. "Pam is never to be in charge of the alcohol ever again. Never."

"Agreed. The two of you put quite the dent in my stock."

"Holy shit. How am I even still alive?" You groan and shift in bed, noticing for the first time that the sheets are really cold against your legs. Your bare legs. Frowning, you meet the blonde's gaze. "Eric?"

"Yes?"

"Where are my pants?"

He's slow to chuckle and his suddenly lust filled expression is one that makes you hold your breath. He was going to be the death of you. "Pam thought you'd be more comfortable without them."

"So you let her strip me!?"

"Would you rather it have been me?" He leers.

"..yes!" You surprise him. His smile falters and you groan again. "She totally copped a feel. I know it."

His surprise vanishes and he chuckles one last time before standing from the edge of the bed. "Pamela was on her best behavior. I promise you that."

"Yeah, yeah." You squirm to find a comfortable position. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm taking the night off."

"Noted," Eric says just before he exits the usually light-tight room. "Ginger will be by later with some food."

"A vampire after my own heart," you sleepily muse. "Food. Make it greasy."

With your eyes now closed, you don't see Eric hesitate at the door, staring and trying to figure out just when the hell he became fond of you.

The rest of the week passes with ease and you don't seem to have any more issues with Fangtasia's clientele. Eric insists you wear the Crest of your nest out in the open after the incident with Bill and the vampires seem intimidated at first, but warm up after seeing you serve the humans. The vampires then approach you with caution and a deep amount of respect, and then it's the humans who are confused and cautious of you. When the humans then figure out what your necklace means and see the way the vampires treat you, they make it their business to approach you and ask how to get into a nest of their own.

Pam became your saving grace, she scaring away the annoying humans so you were left alone to do work in peace. Eric also kept his gaze on you when he wasn't scanning his club and keeping an ear out for any illegal activity, and every time you caught his gaze you'd smirk and salute him with a shot. He usually only acknowledged your gesture when you grimaced after one too many shots and you flicked him off for laughing at your pain.

- X - X - X -

Eric's watching Y/N again, his gaze constantly being drawn to her throat when her head tilted back in a laugh. For the passed hour she's been speaking with a human female and from Eric heard it was a female who was from a nest herself. However, it was a newly formed nest and the human had just wanted to talk to someone else who'd been part of a nest longer than she had.

He's too preoccupied with his staring that he doesn't see, feel, or hear when Godric takes a seat next to him. The only reason he knows something is amiss is because the onslaught of amusement hits him hard. Startling, he glances to his left where Godric is perched on his own throne.

"Father," Eric greets calmly in his native tongue.

"Son." Godric's expression is unreadable to anyone looking in their direction, but Eric can feel his maker's amusement. Pam's too. "You care for her."

"Well she is Yours."

"No. This is different," Godric says. "You're fond of her. And not just because she's of our nest."

Seeing no use in lying, Eric agrees. "Yes."

"When I say Y/N is Mine, I only mean it protection wise. She is the sister I never had. A daughter." Eric glances at his maker once more, internally groaning when Godric flashes him a smile. "If you wish to pursue her, that is your choice. She can bear my Crest and have your Mark. I do not mind if it is you."

"She is a handful."

"Who's a handful?" Eric jerks in surprise at hearing his native tongue come from someone else, his right eyebrow raising when he sees Y/N standing there with a tray and three shots- two true blood and one tequila. "Don't look so surprised, Northman,” you then say, switching back to English. “Godric taught me when I was younger so I could tattle on the other vampires in our nest if they were dicks to me."

"Y/N," Godric greets. "You look well."

"I am well," you muse, passing him a shot. "My stay here has been.. interesting."

"I'll say," Eric then says, taking his shot from the tray. "Y/N not only verbally put Miss Stackhouse in her place, but she also made Bill Compton nearly wet himself because they were quite disrespectful to my status as Sheriff. It was precious."

With your own shot halfway to your mouth, you narrow your eyes. "Don't get me started again. Your little half-fae is still on my shit list."

"Not my half-fae," he's quick to rebuff. "Never was."

"But you wanted her to be."

Eric pauses before downing his shot, he grinning. "Is that jealously I sense?"

Coughing on your shot, you pound on your chest with a closed fist much to Godric's amusement. "N-No!"

Eric's too busy grinning and you're too busy glaring to see Godric's gaze darting between you two. Eventually, when you can't think of anything to say to sway Eric's smug-ness, you look to Godric. "How did your meeting go? Good I'm guessing since you're not in a foul mood."

"It went good, little one. In fact, it went really good."

Eric's eyes narrow. "What did you do?"

Switching back to Eric's native tongue, Godric tells him, "I gave up my position as the Dallas Sheriff."

"You did what?"

"Holy fuck. You actually did it?"

Eric's gaze then turns on you. "You knew he was going to?"

"I- I.. well, yeah."

"Do not be angry with her, my son. This has been on my mind for quite some time. I tired of Dallas and was looking to relocate."

"Relocate to where?"

"Here, of course."

You freeze in surprise, as does Eric. "Truly?"

"Truly."

You're slow to smile, but you smile nonetheless. "Does this mean I get to keep my job? I've grown quite fond of Fangtasia."

"Just Fangtasia?" Eric muses, eyes suddenly sparkling.

Your gaze cuts to him and against your will your cheeks burn under his stare. Knowing he's seen it and can probably smell the blood rushing to surface anyway, you make an excuse to suddenly flee. "I need to go tell Pam. S-She'll be happy."

Eric's chuckle follows you until you hop off the stage, you then making a beeline for the front door. As Pam scans I.D's, you tell her the good news and smother your laughter when her fangs click down and the front line of people waiting to get in all gasp. She's all too happy to get to spend more time with her Grandsire's favorite human.

With Ginger still manning the bar, you take the moment to go freshen up in the bathroom. But before you can even make it to the bathroom, you're being whisked away at vampire speed and you only get your bearings back when you're seated on a desk and have a blonde viking vampire standing between your knees.

"Eric?"

"Well, well, well."

You huff a laugh, leaning back from his towering presence. "What are you doing?"

"Is Fangtasia really the only thing you've grown fond of during your stay here?"

His hands which were settled on each knee slowly inch upward and you gulp. "Let me guess- Godric approved of you officially making a move?"

"Maybe."

"There's no maybe about it." You slowly grin, reaching up with your right hand and lightly trailing your fingertips along his jaw. "You've been eyeballing me all week, Sheriff. I was wondering who was going to break first."

"This isn't me breaking."

"No." You lean forward and reach up, your lips just barely grazing Eric's. "But you will," you murmur. Then sliding your hands down his chest and passed his abdomen, you grasp at his waist and push him back. Sliding off his desk and slipping underneath his arms, you chuckle as you saunter out of his office. "It's only a matter of time, Eric. Until then I got a bar to tend to."

Eric stares at his office door swinging shut, his tongue peeking out to catch the faint scent of you on his bottom lip. Slowly smirking, he says, "Only a matter of time indeed."

#fanficimagery #eric northman x reader #eric x reader #eric northman imagine #true blood imagine #eric northman #true blood #pam de beaufort #godric #imagine

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utopianvoices · 5 years

Text

dating au | j.wooyoung

⤗ check my masterlist for other members!

how he acts around you

this boy

oh my fucking god

don’t get me started

acts like a whole ass school boy around you

no, i’m not talking about the kind of school boy that is super shy around their crush

i’m talking about the kind who teases the person they like to no ends

you know that moment you find out this boy’s been bullying you since kindergarten just because he liked you

that’s wooyoung right there

does not know the meaning of maturity when he gets a crush on you

all sane thoughts just fly out the window

he’ll do anything to make sure your attention is on him all the damn time

tbh i’m surprised you don’t end up hating him with the amount he teases you

will trip you when you’re walking by

or just tugs on your hair if he’s walking behind you

is so so annoying

but even while being annoying he’s still so considerate???

makes sure he’s ready to catch you if you really lose your balance when he trips you

and never pulls on your hair to the extent where it hurts

basically all the things he does are just subtext for “pay attention to me because my heart does Things when you’re around”

poor babie (つ﹏<。)

he’s both sweet and annoying

when he’s annoying he’s really annoying

to the extent where you wanna slap him real hard

but when he’s sweet he’s so sweet that all you wanna do is just kiss him right there

what no i didn’t say anything

always replies to your messages immediately

and never misses a call from you if he’s not busy

even if he misses a call, the first thing he does when he checks his phone is to call you back

will listen to anything and everything you have to say

even encourages you to rant to him if you’re feeling down about anything

puts you first for EVERYTHING

honestly i think he even values your life more than his

wooyoung is a very passionate man

so even when he loves, he’s passionate about it

him teasing you is just how he copes with his crush on you

and his own way of saying “please don’t ever forget me.”

how he confesses

one of the ones that have no problem confessing

only after doing some confirmation tests though

when he’s starting to make his mind up to confess to you, his teasing switches up a bit

instead of tripping you or pulling your hair

he teases you in another way

gets really close to you when he’s taking something from behind you

casually puts his arm around your shoulder when you’re watching a movie

just stares at you when you’re trying to do something

the staring wasn’t intentional tho he’s just so smitten he can’t stop looking at you

(◠‿◠✿)

basically just does whatever he can do to get a reaction out of you

when you get flustered and pull away, a bulb just lights up in his head

and his confidence slowly grows

but if you’re really good at controlling yourself

damn y/n you must have some steel conviction

he’ll give up and bribe the members to reveal if you returned his feelings

and he finally got the truth from san after asking nicely just once

by nicely i mean he threatened to put shiber into the washing machine with dye if san didn’t tell him

but yEs, after asking very nicely

he found out that you did return his feelings

and he’s smug af

doesn’t plan anything extravagant

he kinda just drops the bomb on you when you’re eating, out of all the times

and you just kind of start choking because???? you weren’t made to handle these things???

plus you thought that him confessing so casually was pretty hot

anyway

he passes you some water and just gently pats your back

waiting patiently for you to come back to live and give him a big ol’ hug

first date

oOof i imagine y’all having a really simple date

like the dance studio date kind

invites you over to the dance studio and shows you all the new choreos that he made

and you’re just like （☆ω☆*） because dAmn your man looking hot as fuck

THE TYPE TO BE ANNOYING AND DO A SEXY DANCE WHILE STARING AT YOU

you know, just for the laughs

dies laughing when he sees your flustered face

and teases you so much omg

“you really enjoyed that huh?”

“n-nO i didn’t whAt are yOU talking abOut!!?!?!?”

“uh huhhhh whatever you say babe~”

“hhhh i’m bREAKING UP WITH YOU.”

but fr tho you’d take this date over any other date

because just having wooyoung with you was more than enough

uwu

for your meal you’ll just decide to order pizza or something

and sprawl across the floor pigging out

10/10 date right there

i wouldn’t be surprised if he starts a food fight by throwing some fries at you

and you throw some back at him

but you both stop after getting each back because food is precious

and y’all were hungry as heck

good choice

tells you to take a seat at the couch while he clears the place

but you refuse and help him out

and he’s just like *heart eyes*

leave the boy alone he basically just has *heart eyes* for you all the damn time

Whipped™

first kiss

you’re gravely mistaken if you think you’ll be waiting long for this

boy is shameless

and deprived

because he’s been wanting to kiss you for the longest time

so anyway after stuffing your faces till you both couldn’t walk

he suggests to DANCE

?????? hello wooyoung pliz

not everyone is athletic like you ;;

but he leaves you no choice because the next moment he’s pulling you up

and connecting his phone to the speakers and choosing a song

you’re surprised when a soft tune fills the studio

instead of the usual hip hop or r&b tracks

have i mentioned how cheesy he is

will do a 90° bow and say something like “can i have this dance with you, m’lady?”

and you can’t help but giggle at how silly he looked trying to pretend to be posh

but you play along anyway

returning the bow, you offer your hand and he pulls you closer

one of his hand on your waist while your hand rests on his shoulder

and your free hands intertwined

the first few minutes were you both trying insanely difficult ballroom moves

but as time went by, your hands found home around his neck, you fingers playing with the ends of his hair

while his rested on your sides

and you’re just staring at each other while swaying side to side

when he slowly starts to lean in

and you’re like !!! this is it!!!!!

as your eyes flutter shut

but they shoot right open when his nose brushes yours instead

and you’re met with the image of your sneaky boyfriend trying to hold in his laughter

you stare at him for a few seconds trying to process what just happened

and when you finally realise

you start hitting him, complaints flying out of your mouth, while he tries to shield himself from you while laughing

“i cANT BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THAT YOU PIECE OF-”

you’re not even done with your sentence when something soft lands on your lips

who would have guessed

your words die in your throat as he pulls you in closer

and you just kinda melt in his arms

:’)

would have probably continued kissing you if his phone didn’t ring

blasting out his horrible ringtone of “i’m a barbie girl” at full volume

causing the both of you to jump apart at the sudden noise

“you still haven’t changed it?!”

you actually set it as a joke to annoy him and he just never changed it since his phone was on silent most of the time

couple goals amirite

first fight:

it’ll probably stem from his teasing personality

you would have had a really bad day and all you wanted to do was spend some quiet time at home

but i think he wouldn’t really pick up the cue that you weren’t in the mood for his jokes

and will keep joking and playing around

you’d just shoot him a glare, hoping he’ll stop

but boy would be pretty oblivious and just thought you were playing along

until you tell him off with a hard voice

and then he knows he’s in trouble

“wooyoung ffs leave me alone for one second please.”

and he’s just like !!!! fuck!!!!!

he pissed you off when he should’ve been taking care of you

kinda stands around awkwardly after you tell him off, not knowing what to do

and finally just walks off into the room

not even 10 minutes later, the smell of lavender floats through the apartment

and a nervous wooyoung appears

“i-i uh, prepared a bath for you... only if you want though!!”

babie ;-;

and you feel bad, because your boyfriend shouldn’t be feeling cautious around you

so you just push yourself off the couch and walk towards him

giving him a soft kiss and whispering a “thank you” against his lips

and you can actually physically see him relax

his shoulder dropping to their normal stance from their previously tensed state

and he gives you a warm smile

you take a few steps towards the bathroom when you get an idea

“wanna join me?”

and he just stares like :O for a while

before going ;) and scooping you up

walking to the bathroom with you in his arms

i’m just doing myself more damage at this point

favourite things to do together:

did someone say

movie marathons

loves loves LOVES to watch movies with you

especially harry potter!!!

he’ll order a ton of food

and you’ll make some brownies for the both of you

while he sets up the living room to look like a whole ass fort

makes sure NO ONE disturbs him during your movie marathon

and you do the same

you both rewatch all the way from the first to the eighth movie

spending time in between each movie to discuss certain opinions you have

and it’s honestly one of the best times to bond with him

because it really amazes you how deep your talks can get

and the different perspectives you both look at

y'all definitely fall asleep in front of the tv towards the end of the eighth movie

with your head on his shoulder and his atop yours

hands intertwined and resting on his lap

the sore body you attain the next day due to your uncomfortable positions is totally worth it though

because you’d do it again, with no hesitation

general affection:

can we take some time to mourn for your innocence

big rip

I’M JOKING

or am i

hhhhh

one of the skinship kings

will get withdrawal symptoms if he’s not touching you

does NOT care if the members are around

will shamelessly pull you in for a kiss

and honestly only the members are on the losing side because they could have gone their whole life without seeing you two make out

right in front their salads tSk

loves to sit you on his lap

whether you’re in a car

on the couch

or wherever possible

just wants to show off his strong thighs

although you sitting in his lap often leads to other problems......

and he’ll make sure you solve his problems

aHEM

if you kiss him for more than three seconds

you bet he’s gonna turn it into a make out session

so if you have things to do, avoid putting your lips anywhere near his

will whine if you tease him

like.... really Whine

and the only way you’re shutting him up is by kissing him

if your make out sessions start to get Wild

his movement just gets very urgent

pushes you to the nearest wall or whatever hard surface there is

and puts his hands on either side of you

essentially meaning that you’re not escaping him soon

and this, 9/10 times leads to something more

sO.... buckle up

might be a bit rough when he’s in the mood

so you’ll have to take the lead to slow things down

only if you want though...... everyone has their preferences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

basically, with this boy?

you’re gonna have to prepare yourself to be attacked 24/7 because it’s not in him to stop showering you with love and attention

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung #dating au series #dee scribbles #i might as well rename general affections to making out with wy #sorry not sorry #:D

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 4

Warnings: none. Just some cute Ovi and little kids ;)

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

It is a fifteen-minute drive into town; a picturesque central area with a healthy mixture of both low and high end shops and numerous eateries and cafes. In the winter it is reminiscent of a Dickens novel; snow covered trees and streets, the Victorian area store fronts boasting immaculate decorations and displays in their front windows, white lights strung from almost every available surface, and a skating rink in the centre of it all. In the summer, when tourists flowed into the area and brought in the most money for the economy, the sidewalks were full of patios and lined with immaculate floral gardens. Telluride is a small town, and regular residents all seemed to know one another; conversing in front of the bank and post office, catching up on gossip and talking about high school sports. Tyler’s already exchanged pleasantries and small talk with five people, and that was when just stepping out of the car.

When they’d first arrived, talk had spread fast about the new family in town. They’d spent four months living with her parents and getting on their feet before buying able to buy a home with their joint savings and money that Mahajan had managed to scrap together and give as thanks for taking care of his son. Nik had taken it upon herself to act as the ‘small town gossip’, quickly using some of her contacts to spread small little rumours about who they were: an ex Australian Army soldier who’d been injured in Afghanistan and forced to retire at a young age, his young pregnant wife and their baby girl, and a kid that they’d adopted after losing both of his parents. It had managed to keep people from asking too many questions when they’d show up unannounced at the house with various casseroles and baked goods and welcoming gifts. Every so often someone would ask about his service record and just what happened that forced him to leave at such a young age and Tyler would just repeat the same old bullshit about arthritis and nagging injuries and show off some of the more prominent scars that marred his body. Just like five years ago in Dhaka, people had taken to them. They were young, friendly, always willing to lend a hand if someone needed it. Never too accessible, but just accessible enough. Never free and easy with their personal information, but giving out just enough that kept people curious. And when he started his own business, word travelled fast and within a week he had a client list of over two dozen. On his first day of school, Ovi already had people waiting to meet him. Interested in who the kid with the ex Army Aussie dad was.

Even five years later it is a novelty of sorts: an Australian living in their small town. They’re intrigued by his accent and his slang and always want to hear stories about ‘the land down under’. Even now he couldn’t go into the hardware store or into the pharmacy to buy diapers without someone wanting to hear all about kangaroos and koalas and was it really true they had spiders the size of dinner plates? He humoured them for the most part; slightly annoyed when they attempted to copy the way he talked. What was the saying? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? He’d just laugh it off and they’d think it was hilarious whenever he called them mate.

The twins and Millie had decided to tag along; the boys wanting mohawks done at the barber and their sister wanting ice cream. The little mom and pop candy store was always one of their stops when they happened to make it into town, and she wasn’t about to let her father forget about it.

“I can take her,” Ovi offers, still trying to make up for his huge fuck up the night before. “I could use some ice cream too.”

“Oh please, daddy?! Please?!” Millie gushes, as she waits for him to unload her brothers from their car seats before tending to her. “Can Ovi take me for ice cream? Let Ovi take me for ice cream!”

“Sometimes I think you love him more than me,” he teases, as he leans across the back seat to unbuckle her, and in response she curls both arms around his neck and gives him a sloppy, noisy kiss on the forehead.

“I don’t love anyone more than you daddy.”

“Not even mommy?”

“Mommy is a close second. Don’t tell her that though. It might make her sad.”

“What about your brothers? Where are they on your list?”

“Oh they are wayyyy down there. Like between broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

“You hate broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

Her eyes narrow. “Exactly.”

He can’t help but laugh at the seriousness in her voice, at the frown that takes over her face, the way her normally brilliant blue eyes grow dark. So much like him in so many ways. He sees it all the time; in all of his kids. Certain facial expressions and mannerisms that he long ago recognized in himself.

“Okay, I know they piss you off, but they’re still your brothers,” he reminds her, as she clambers out of the SUV.

“Maybe they’re adopted,” she sounds hopeful at the idea, and then rolls her eyes at them when they start harassing her about her dress and her pig tails.

“I hate to break it to you, but they’re not. They definitely came out of mommy’s tummy. I was there. I saw it happen.”

“But how’d they get in there? Maybe other babies got put in her tummy by accident.”

“Naw, I was there for that too. So sorry. You’re stuck with the brothers you have.”

She’s side eyeing them now, with absolute disdain despite the fact they’re actually behaving and just waiting patiently for their dad to lock the car and set the alarm. He recognizes that look, too. He’s used it many times himself when someone’s mere presence has annoyed the shit out him.

“They’re just so…ughhh…” she huffs dramatically.

That’s definitely more her mother coming out.

“But at least I have you, right Ovi?” she curls a hand around two of his fingers and gazes up at him adoringly. “At least you won’t pick on me and pull my hair and do stupid boy stuff. You’re like an older brother, right? That’s what mommy always says. That you’re practically my big brother. Is that true?”

The kid looks as if he may burst into tears at the mere thought of it. “If that’s what you want. Do you want me to be your big brother? I’ve always wanted a little sister.” He’s always seen her that way. She’d been his first hands on experience with babies and he’d relished every moment. Never once complaining when he was asked to change a dirty diaper or she threw up on his clothes. He was a natural, calm, patient, compassionate. A surprise, considering he’d never been brought up experiencing any of those traits.

“I can be your little sister,” she offers, and picks his arm up and slings it around her shoulders.

It takes him a moment to compose himself. And he blinks his eyes several times and clears his throat and then smiles down at her.

“I’d like that.”

****

When he was a kid, this place would have been paradise. An entire wall devoted to clear plastic cylinders filled with a rainbow of various candy, display cases showing of chocolates in all kinds of shapes and even cartoon characters and over two dozen different flavours of fudge. There’s even an old fashion milkshake and ice cream bar on the far wall, serving everything from basic cones to sundaes with dozens of available toppings, and enormous banana splits.

Oh, to be a child again! He longed for those days. Not his childhood and his previous life in India; spent as a prisoner in his own home because of his father’s evil misdoings. But a childhood that would be much simpler. Worry free. Where he could actually be a kid and enjoy all the innocence that came with it. If he could choose, he would pick this moment, this place, this family, to experience as a child. In a home where he felt safe. Valued. Respected. Loved. Where his opinions and his feelings are validated, and he can speak without being spoken to. Where there is more laughter than there were tears. More smiles than harsh raised voices.

And love. Lots and lots of love.

That is what he witnessed in his new home, with his new family. He’d been made to feel as if he was loved just as much as the biological children. He was valued. Seen as a person and not a thing. Tyler and Esme never said those three little yet powerful words, but he felt them. In the way they expressed pride in his school accomplishments, in the way they helped him battled his issues since the incident in Dhaka five years ago, how they encouraged him to always try his best and learn from his mistakes. Even when he was younger and being disciplined, there was love in it. They only wanted what was best for him and hated to see him wandering down difficult paths.

No. They never said it. Neither did he. But it was all around him. And inside of him.

Half a dozen customers linger in the store; a small family picking out candy, a couple sitting on the stools at the counter, and a solo man sitting in one booth at the very back. A trucker style hat pulled low over his eyes, sleeves of brightly coloured tattoos visible under his t-shirt, a mug of black coffee and that day’s newspaper in front of him. He glances up as they enter; his eyes locking on Ovi’s for a split second, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ovi finds it a tad unsettling. He’s spent a lot of time wandering the town and in and out of the various shops and he’s never seen that face before. And in Telluride, newcomers stick out like sore thumbs.

Millie tightly holds his hand and happily skips alongside of him, pausing every couple of feet to spin in a circle; commenting on the way her dress looked when she twirled. Because that’s how the princesses’ dresses moved in all the movies she’s seen, and she would very much like to be a princess when she’s old.

And a firefighter.

“That’s quite the combination,” he remarks. “A princess and a firefighter? Are you going to wear your tiara and your princess dress when you go to fires?”

“Maybe the dress, but not the tiara,” she says. “Because I wouldn’t be able to get my helmet on.”

Pretty sound logic.

He notices the way people watch them, mostly out of curiosity. That sweet little girl in her blue and white gingham dress and her light up Frozen sandals. With her unruly hair and her huge blue eyes, her hand tightly clutching his. They probably think he’s a babysitter. Or a family friend. But truth be told, he is closer to her than he’s ever been to any of his blood family.

“Let’s see what we want,” he says, and scoops her up into his arms, settling her on his hip in the same fashion he’s seen Tyler use so many times. And she curls an arm around his neck and pushes her unruly hair out of her eyes and leans forward as far she can go in order to get a closer look at the tubs of ice cream laid out in the freezer before them. He doesn’t know why he bothers. She orders the same thing every time they’re there.

“Aren’t you a lucky little girl,” the cashier says, as she rings up their order. “Having a friend take you out for ice cream.”

“Oh, he’s not my friend,” Millie informs her. “He’s my brother.”

The woman arches an eyebrow.

“What she means is…” Ovi attempts an explanation of his own, but Millie jumps right in.

“Just ‘cause we look different doesn’t mean he’s not my brother. ‘Cause he is. My mommy and daddy adopted him when his mommy and daddy died. He didn’t have anywhere else to live so mommy and daddy let him live with us. I also have three other brothers.”

“Are they adopted to or…”

“Nope. They’re my real brothers. They have the same mommy and daddy as I do. Two little brothers were enough and when mommy was having another baby, I really wanted a little sister. Or a puppy. Puppies don’t cry all the time and wake me up in the middle of the night and steal my toys. But nope, another brother,” she’s clearly disgusted by that fact. “How come so many boys? Daddy says that some people just have lots of boys and others have lots of girls and some just have a little of both. But mommy says daddy is a boy making machine. Whatever that means.”

“I am so sorry,” Ovi apologizes. “She likes to talk.”

“My brothers that came right after me are twins,” she continues, taking the cashier’s wide-eyed interest and awe at her precociousness as her cue to keep going. “Tanner. And Tyler. Tyler’s my daddy’s name too. My baby brother is Declan. He’s the cutest one. The other two are just way too annoying. And Declan doesn’t pick on me and pull my hair. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t…” she makes a fist, as if to signify she’s going to punch him in the face if he doesn’t tow the line.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ovi notices the tattooed man in the trucker hat slipping out of his booth; mug of coffee and newspaper in his hands as he moved closer to them. Dropping into one of the stools closest to the entrance. He shifts nervously from foot to foot; keeping one arm tight around Millie as he pocked his change and then carries her and their treats to the nearest table. He makes sure that he’s facing the door. Tyler has always told him that is was the smart thing to do; you didn’t want to be surprised by trouble sneaking up on you.

He hates that he’s still so paranoid. That the nightmare he’d gone through in Dhaka still bothers him to this day. It’s his cross to bear; painful and heavy. And some days he just wishes he could ease the burden on his tired shoulders.

Instead of taking the seat across from him, Millie slips in right beside him, kneeling on the vinyl bench in order to reach her ice cream. She happily digs in; spooning the bubble gum flavoured concoction into her mouth as she rattles on about gymnastics and martial arts and how she really wishes that daddy didn’t hate hockey so much, because she’d really like to learn how to play it. And how to hit people really hard and fight them. And as he listens intently and offers up nods and appropriate responses, he casually keeps an eye on the stranger seated at the counter. Ovi knows he’s watching them. He can feel it every time he looks away to pay attention to Millie.

“Ovi?” she suddenly asks, as she licks ice cream off her fingers.

“Yeah?”

“What does daddy do? What’s his job?”

“He fixes up houses and makes them nice again. And helps people do things they’re not able to do in their own homes. You know that.”

“I don’t mean that job. I mean his other job. The one that Auntie Nik always calls him on the phone about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I…”

“He always leaves in the middle of the night and then he’s gone in the morning and I’m mad that he didn’t even say goodbye,” she continues. “And then he’s gone a long time and mommy is really sad and cries about it. She tries to say that she doesn’t cry, but I hear her when she thinks I’m asleep. I know she’s worried about daddy. Is he doing bad things?”

“No,” he assures her. “He’s not.”

“I don’t like that he’s gone all the time. It makes me sad. And then I can’t sleep because I’m sad and daddy isn’t there to tuck me in and read me a story. Where is he? Where does he go? Mommy says he’s far away, but he still calls us every night. It makes me feel better when he calls. ‘Cause I can hear his voice.”

“He’s a lot of different places,” Ovi explains. “He travels a lot.”

“But what does he do? What kind of job is it?”

“He helps people. People that are in trouble.”

“Are bad guys after the people?”

He nods. “The bad guys are after them and your dad goes and helps them get away. He rescues good people from bad people.”

Her eyes widen and her voice is above a whisper, speaking in astonished awe. “You mean like a superhero?!”

He grins. “Just like a superhero.”

“Like the Avengers?!”

“Just like them. Just like Thor.”

“Oh, he’s my favourite!” she gushes. “Mommy’s too because she says he’s a total snack.”

“I wouldn’t tell your dad that. About mom thinking Thor’s a snack. Or about how you know he’s a superhero. He doesn’t see himself that way and he doesn’t like to talk about it. You know how some superhero’s keep it a secret and no one knows who they are? That’s how it is with your dad. So we’ll just keep it between us, okay? You don’t want to embarrass him, right?”

“I’m not brave, mate.”

“Of course you are. You rescue people.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes I do other things.”

“You mean like killing people?”

Ovi can hear that conversation as if it were just yesterday. At Gaspar’s house, when he’d asked Tyler if he’d always been brave. How could you not be? When you willingly put your own life on the line to save the lives of others? Even if there was money involved, it still took a lot of courage to go into a situation where you didn’t know if you’d survive or not. Tyler and his father were nothing alike. His father had killed people with horrible intentions. Tyler kills because he has to. To save others and himself. He would never tell the little girl beside him that. Those details are difficult to digest and painful to hear about, and she doesn’t need to know them until she is older.

And maybe not even then.

“Ovi?” she asks once again, and he uses the tip of his thumb to clear ice cream from the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“That man is giving me the creeps.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tries to play it cool. “What man?”

“That one,” her eyes narrow once more as she glares at the stranger in question. “He keeps looking at us. Why does he keep looking at us?”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute. Or he’s jealous because you have ice cream and he doesn’t.”

“We could always ask him,” she suggests. “About why he’s staring at us.”

“Or we could just mind our own business and eat our ice cream. We don’t want it to melt, do we?” he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her a little closer and a little tighter to his side.

***

The chime above the door sounds as it swings open and Ovi watches as Tyler and the boys enter; the twins being maneuvered over the threshold with a large, strong hand gripping the back of their shirts, effectively steering them in the right direction. Both have mohawks now; one with frosted green tips, the other blue, and Ovi grins at the sight of Tyler’s own new look. Or was it in an old look? Newish oldish perhaps? The same cut he’d sported when they first five years ago. He remembers how he’d been intrigued by it; no one at school would dare have their hair cut like that and there was no way his own father or any of those paid to watch him would have ever allowed him to get it done.

He also notices it’s a bad knee day. That limp a little more prominent than usual.

“Over here boys,” he says to his sons, and with a gentle push with his thighs sends them the right way.

Ovi clears his throat noisily, making it a point to catch Tyler’s attention. And when their eyes lock, he makes a small nod in the direction of the man sitting at the counter. Pretending to be immersed in his paper as the cashier refills his coffee mug. Through the lenses of his sunglasses, Tyler’s able to check him out without even being noticed, and Ovi sees the way his head barely moves as he gives the stranger a once over; his brow slightly furrowed, lips set in a thin line.

“Hi daddy!” Millie cheerfully greets as he approaches the table, and Ovi notices how the stranger finally looks up; no expression on his face as he eyes Tyler from head to toe. “What’s up with your hair?”

“Most of it’s gone. Why? You don’t like it?”

She frowns. “It’s kinda weird.”

“Blame your mother. She likes it like this. Get in,” he instructs his sons, and helps each of them by grabbing the back of their shorts and lifting them onto the bench.

“Nice hair cuts boys,” Ovi enthuses, and he gets high fives from each of them. “Very cool. What’s up with the colour though?”

“My wife’s going to kill me,” Tyler laments, and then heads off to purchase ice cream for the twins. Ovi notices yet again that the man at the counter watches him intently; brows arching as he takes in the tall, powerful frame.

Impressed, maybe? A little intimidated? Even now Ovi himself found it hard not to be. When you’re that tall and you’re back and shoulders are that broad and your muscles are that big, you tend to draw attention to yourself. Mostly it was from women. Ovi noticed that a lot. The females like Tyler’s big muscles and his blue eyes.

Tyler slides into the seat across from him, removing his sunglasses, placing them on the tabletop and then getting the twins settled with their ice cream. He’s a good dad. Ovi has always thought so. He’s a gentler version of himself when he’s in ‘dad mode’; his features softening, his voice not as gruff. Calm and patient.

“What’s up with that guy?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of the counter.

“He’s been staring at us,” Millie answers for Ovi, as she ducks under the table, crawls to the other side and then resurfaces and climbs onto her dad’s lap. “It’s creepy.”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute,” her father reasons. “Or he wants your ice cream.”

“That’s what Ovi said. Hey!” she flashes a dramatic pout when he helps himself to some of her treat.

“He’s just been sitting there,” Ovi says. “He was here before we got here.”

“What’s he be doing?”

“Sitting. Reading the paper. Drinking coffee.”

“And watching us,” Millie pipes up. “Super creepy. I don’t like creepers.”

Tyler chuckles at the use of the word ‘creepers’, and running a palm over her hair, drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You definitely are your mother’s daughter.”

“You ever seen him before?” Ovi asks. Tyler’s in town more than he is; always at the hardware store picking things up for his side business.

“Don’t think so. I think I’d remember a face like that. Definitely doesn’t fit in around here.” But then again, neither did he really. With the accent and the tattoos and the scars. And now the haircut.

“People are weird,” Tanner chimes in. He’s the observant one out of the two boys; the kind that sits back and quietly takes in a situation or an environment, brain coming up with different scenarios and outcomes. Wise and intelligent beyond his years.

“You’re one to talk with that haircut,” his father teases, and nudges him playfully with his elbow. “You realize your mother is going to seriously hurt me, yeah? She’s not going to be happy at all. Think it’s worth it? Think it’s worth me having to sleep on the couch for the rest of my life?”

His son nods enthusiastically.

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus. Now I remember why your brother is my favourite,” he’s teasing of course, and reaches across the bench to gently and playfully pinch his name sake just below the ribs.

Ovi notices just how much they all actually do like alike. The same facial features: blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes, almost the exact same colour and texture of hair, the same noses and ears. Even the same smiles and mannerisms. The way they will each smirk and cock their heads to the side when they’re sensing someone else’s bullshit.

There are definitely some extremely strong genes on Tyler’s side of the family.

“He’s coming this way,” Ovi whispers, as the stranger slides off his stool, and folds his newspaper and puts it under his arm before carrying his empty cup to the cash register.

He’s average height and has a stocky build. Nothing remarkable about him at all save for the arms full of tattoos.

Tyler casually watches him; legs stretched out under the table, an arm across the back of the booth. If he senses something is up, Ovi can’t tell for sure. There’s no darkness to his eyes or furrows across his brow.

The other man turns towards them now, briefly pausing at the side of their table as he looks down at Tyler, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Can I help you, mate?” Tyler asks. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was a trait that Ovi admired; the ability to stare someone down yet remain completely relaxed and expressionless.

“Just admiring your family. I’ve got a few kids of my own back home. Just made me miss them seeing you all together.”

“Where’s back home?”

“Chicago.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I could say the same about you. Accent and all.”

Tyler nods slowly. “Here for business or…?”

Ovi enjoys watching the process. The way the questions come so easily and never seem prodding or invasive. Tyler’s expression and tone never wavering.

“You could say that. What brought you here?”

“The wife’s from Colorado. Decided to move here when we started having kids.”

“Definitely a nice place to be. Well you all take care. Enjoy your family. Kids are a special gift. Don’t take it for granted.”

Tyler nods, then casts a casual glance over his shoulder, watching as the man heads through the shop and out the front door.

“Anything?” Ovi asks expectantly. “Feels weird, right?”

“Felt like it’s just a guy away from home and missing his family. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. He probably just wanted someone to talk to.”

“But the way he was watching us. The way he was watching Millie…”

“Maybe he has a little girl of his own and she reminds him of her.”

“So you felt nothing? You didn’t feel like there’s something weird? Something’s going on?”

Tyler smirks. “Not every strange person is out to get us, mate. Sometimes people are just weird. Or lonely. Sometimes they just want someone to talk to and don’t know how to go about it. Remember how you felt when you first moved here? How different it was and you didn’t have any friends? It’s like that. But a hundred times worse. A guy’s thousands of miles from home, missing his wife, missing his kids, maybe having a shit day. So he wants to reach out to someone.”

“So you really felt nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Just a normal guy missing his family, kid. That’s all. Thought you were getting a handle on this. The paranoia. It’s been five years. If someone from back home was after you, they’d have found you by now.”

“You don’t worry? About people from your past coming to find you?”

“If I just my entire time worrying about stuff like that, I’d never leave the house. And let’s not get too into it, yeah?” he nods down at Millie and then over at the twins. “Little ears and all.”

He likes to keep things on the downlow as far as the kids are concerned. They’re young and vulnerable. Impressionable. And telling them that their dad helps people is one thing, but telling them that he sometimes has to hurt and even kill people to do it, is a different beast all on its own.

“Does chocolate milk come from brown cows?” TJ suddenly asks, effectively breaking the mood.

“Excuse me?” his father laughs. “What?”

“Well if the white milk comes from the black and white cows, where does the chocolate milk come from?” his son continues. “Brown cows, right?”

“That’s not how it works,” Tyler chuckles. “That’s not how any of that works. It comes from putting chocolate in white milk.”

“What about the grass?” Tanner’s turn now. “How come the grass is green and the sky is blue?”

“That’s a simple one,” Tyler says. “If the sky was green like the grass, you wouldn’t know where to stop mowing.”

Ovi can’t help but laugh at that. The way it is said with the utmost seriousness and how the kids are now both in awe that their dad knew that and thinking he’s apparently the smartest man on the planet. He’s able to relax again. Calmed by the fact that he’s with his people.

His family.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #chris hemsworth character #extraction #sanctuary

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elmidol · 4 years

Text

Powers of Persuasion (NSFW)

Three Blind Tooke Part One Resistance is Futile

Read on AO3

Warnings: choking, sex, dubcon, fisting

Three Blind Tooke Part One: Resistance is Futile Chapter Ten: Powers of Persuasion

We hurt the ones we love; Can we love those who did the hurting? Maybe in another life, Or maybe when we’re done journeying.

Apparently your captor was no longer on speaking terms with you. You sighed, eyeing him as the man continued to sit in the chair and meditate. You had not exactly rejected his kind offer; your utterance of ‘I don’t know if I could ever stop calling you that completely’, however, had been a conversation stopper. You were only thankful that Kylo Ren had not had you escorted back to the interrogation room or a different cell. He had allowed you to instead follow him to his quarters, where you had climbed onto the bed. That had been nearly four hours ago. You watched him, the man not exactly acknowledging your presence even when you had risen and nudged the helmet of Darth Vader. At that point, you had lifted the object, carried it to the bed, and sat with it in your lap.

You tapped your fingers against the metallic surface. “Are you mad?” you asked him for the eighth time. Once more, no response. You blew some air towards your hair, causing it to move away from your eyes. “Are you not talking to me because you’re meditating, or are you ignoring me?” A few more minutes ticked by. “Hmm?” You heaved out a sigh and dropped your gaze to Vader’s helmet, which was pointed towards your face. “What do you think?” You started to make the Vader helmet move, using your hands to shake its ‘head’ up and down, as well as from side to side. You opened your mouth to speak for it when Kylo Ren forced himself up quickly. You flinched, the muscles in both your legs and arms tensing in apprehension.

The darkly robed man snatched Darth Vader’s helmet from you, stomped over to the small table on where it was supposed to be, and set it there. He then returned to the chair, dropping down and, with an annoyed huff, settled into a more comfortable position. Meditating again. Ignoring you again. You set your gaze on your hand, which was feeling better. Urvno had come into Ren’s quarters during your first hour of being ignored. He had taken x-rays, which revealed that your fingers were indeed healing quite nicely. He had then bound your fingers again, telling you that your movement would be restricted for roughly another two weeks if all went well.

You slipped off the bed again, your bare feet pattering along the floor as you made your way over to his chair. “Look… We’re enemies. I don’t think your feelings are—“

“I feel nothing,” he countered. Great. You knew that he had to be on some level emotionally detached from things, however you had seen him speaking with Vader’s helmet. Had heard his tantrum when you had called him creature after telling him to go away. He may have been emotionally detached from many things, however you were not one of those things no matter how much he wanted to argue otherwise.

“Then why does it matter if I refer to you as ‘creature’ or not?” you shot, knowing it was probably in poor taste to argue. He waved you away. You, however, stood your ground. “Whatever it is, maybe you should just…” You had been about to utter out ‘treat me like any other prisoner’, yet remembered immediately that you did not want to be locked away in a cell. “…why?”

“You’re noisy.” He started to raise a hand, indicating he was going to mind trick you into obeying—probably being silent and sitting on the bed, if you had to guess.

“I’m trying to kill you! Why would you… Why am I your fix? I’m not naïve! I—“ You were silenced by his hand on your throat; Kylo Ren had risen to his feet quicker than you could react, his hand shooting out and seizing your neck. He squeezed, his thumb digging into your flesh on one side. A bruise was going to be there; whether or not you would be alive to suffer it was left to be discovered.

“Resistance scum,” he growled out, carrying you by the neck to the bed, which he slammed you onto. His grip only seemed to tighten. You felt your face heating up, your entire body growing hotter as your air supply was cut off. He ripped his hand away from you, his robes billowing as he stormed out of the room. You choked, coughing and wheezing while rolling onto your side. Your captor was not absent for long. When he returned, he had a bottle of water in his hand, and this he opened and held to your lips. You reached up with your uninjured hand, taking the bottle from him and drinking to soothe your throat.

While you drank, he started to raise his hands towards his helmet. His limbs paused when they were level with his chest. Kylo Ren stared at you for several moments. You watched him in return, observing as he lifted his hands further and undid the latches of his helmet. This he removed, allowing the heavy object to fall to the ground with a metallic clunk. His eyes were on your knees, and he did not once attempt to lift them to your face.

Not many in the Resistance had seen his face—at least, not since he had become Kylo Ren. A number of them did not know of his past name or identity. A mask on the battlefield. Yet he had shown his face to you, appeared to be attempting to humanize himself to you. You wondered if anyone else who had seen his face had continued to refer to him as a creature.

He was convinced that he was doing the right thing; committing atrocities for the sake of the greater good. The man did not know he was a monster, did not believe it. You couldn’t help but recall when he had claimed to know General Organa in another capacity, his statement that it had been disappointing. Leia Organa and Han Solo had not lived with one another in the normal sense. Their marriage, though official, to you seemed nominal. What had it been like to be their son? To your knowledge, he had not known that Darth Vader was his grandfather until after it had been let slip by a Centrist senator. Without his mask, to you, he looked broken. He could not even meet your eye; this man who had mere minutes ago had his hand around your throat. Perhaps he wasn’t even certain why he was drawn to you.

“Ren?” you whispered, your voice nearly catching in your sore throat. His lips parted then pressed together. Still he did not lift his eyes to your face. “Why don’t you hate me?”

“You’re misguided.” At last he raised his eyes, locking them with yours. “Blinded by their lies. I can show you.”

“No,” you said softly, your heart beginning to race. In his twisted mind, he believed he was offering to save you. It saddened you. Enough so that when he stepped closer, you didn’t even flinch; and when he gripped the back of your head and urged you to your feet while lowering his mouth onto yours, you did not protest or fight against him. You let him kiss you, his mouth working desperately against yours. Perhaps what wasn’t helping matters, what was breaking your resolve, was that his eyes had grown visibly moist at your response. His brow had furrowed, confusion etching his features. Hurt. Rejection. “They’ll never be lies. They aren’t… Those are my beliefs. You…” His lips were hovering near yours. “I would rather you killed me.”

He closed his mouth and swallowed before turning his head to the side. Kylo Ren raised his chin, shifted on his heel, and walked away from you. You felt wretched, realizing your wording. That you would rather die than be with him.

“We’re…enemies, Ren.”

“You’re my prisoner, tooke,” he said, his voice sounding thick though you could tell he was doing what he could to keep it level. “You’re no threat to me. Another means for gathering information…and then you’ll be disposed of.” You collapsed onto the bed, your wide eyes staring blankly ahead. It was what you had been asking for all along. Yet it was the way he had said it. Matter-of-factly. But there was that damn tinge of unmistakable betrayal as though you had done something wrong.

“It’s…it’s not you, cre-Ren. I don’t even know you. It’s the things you stand for. I will never agree with the First Order. And, yes, I would rather die before I even considered doing so.” He paused mid-step. “If I don’t… If I can’t kill…you… How many more will you kill?”

“As many as necessary, tooke,” he said without hesitation.

“And that’s why I can’t allow it.”

“You can’t—?” A rich chuckle. “You’re powerless to stop me. You won’t interfere with the tasks given to me by Supreme Leader.” Kylo Ren turned back around, walking to you. His mood seemed to have improved, a fact that gave you mixed emotions. It really wasn’t personal. Still, you did not wish for him to succeed in his endeavors to crush the Resistance. He set his fingertips to your throat, tracing where he had hurt you. “You’re…interesting.”

“Why?”

He was quiet for a few seconds then at last admitted: “That is something I don’t know, tooke.” You watched him walk away from you and head to the chair. “Now quiet yourself.”

“I, uh, think it’s my job as a prisoner to try to interrupt your concentration,” you said, feeling rather lightheaded. Your mind was flashing back to the sight of him moving in and out of you. To when he had impaled you with his lightsaber, nearly killing you. It nearly drove you mad; you still wanted to kill him for the Resistance…but your body was aching for him—for a form of human contact. Why, oh why, did he have to be vulnerable underneath it all? “You’ve…really complicated me.”

“You can fight against it.” Was he, your enemy, cheering you on?

You blinked then knit your brow. “You don’t…want to have…sex?” His eyes darted to you, running up and down your body. Kylo Ren’s lips parted and he released a sigh. “I just…need to hold something.” He gestured with his hand towards Darth Vader’s helmet. “You won’t… You won’t take it away this time, will you?”

“So long as you behave, you may hold it.”

“Th…thank you.” His jaw twitched. It was not a phrase he heard often, you realized. How sad… “R-Ren?” Those brown orbs on your face. “I don’t… Why did… Why do you want me to pull the trigger…if you find them?”

He chuckled, much as he had when you had insisted that you wouldn’t do so. “Metaphor.” You blushed, understanding that he was using you as a basis for confirming the identities of the other two who had been trained as you had. They would not be killed immediately; they would be interrogated, broken. Every bit of information he was able to drag from you was a bullet that would be used against them, a way to injure their resolve and get them to crack.

Hours later, you had replaced Darth Vader’s helmet back on the table. It seemed to stare at you as you ran your tongue along your teeth. The caps had been removed, though unfortunately this had not occurred until after you had eaten dinner. You were lying in bed with Kylo Ren, whose back was to you. The two of you had hardly spoken since he had stopped meditating for the final time. You sighed and stopped pressing your tongue to your teeth. Turning onto your side, you stared at your captor’s head.

“When you were younger”—he stiffened a little—“did you ever pretend you had special powers?”

“Like…the Force?” he asked, scoffing at you.

You blinked. It had not occurred to you that he had had his abilities his entire life when you had asked the question. You bit down on your bottom lip, waited a few moments, and then spoke again. “Oh… No. I just meant… Well, when I was growing up…” When you trailed off, Kylo Ren started to turn his head, tilting it to listen to you. You swallowed. “I… Some of us kids used to pretend we each had a special power. You only got one. Invisibility. Healing. Uhm, I believe laser eyes was one.” You moistened your lips with your tongue. “It always varied. Some of the kids kept the same power every time we played, but… I picked different ones sometimes.

“One time… One time it was teleportation. And, like, we were playing a game of tag. So when someone tagged me… I said that they didn’t really, because I teleported away. One of the boys said I was cheating.”

“You were.”

“Well, maybe,” you said, smiling a little at the memory. “But another one of the kids said he had the ability to freeze people. He would point at them and they would be frozen for ten seconds. No one complained about his ability, even though it meant he got to tag whoever he wanted.” You sighed wistfully. “It’s really pretty on Naboo… I haven’t been there in years. Since before I joined the Resistance.”

“I…saw that.”

“Have you ever thought about flying?”

“We’re…aboard a Star Destroyer, tooke.”

You rolled your eyes. “I meant like a bird. Not on a ship. If you were able to fly without a ship—have you ever thought about that?” Kylo Ren turned over so that he was facing you. He did not answer, however he watched you with some interest. “I dream about it sometimes.”

“And then you lose your ability midway through the dream…you fall, or else struggle to relearn…but you never succeed.”

“Even when I was younger, it was like that,” you said, wondering exactly how much he had seen when digging in your mind all those times. You had thrown up walls, pointless childhood memories that would amount to nothing for the First Order. You hadn’t thought he would ever remember such seemingly pointless details. “Right now… I sort of feel like that… Like I was flying, but then…now I can’t. And I don’t know how to do it again. I watched my friends die even before I was captured. I knew one day, whether the Resistance won, or I died, or…anything… that one day things would change for me. I don’t think I ever fully planned for it though. I never expected this sort of result. Did…did you ever think things would be like this…for you?”

His breathing was so soft. If not for the fact that his eyes were open and still exploring various aspects of your face, you would have believed he had passed out. “No,” he replied. “Not quite like this.”

“It scares me,” you stated, feeling as though you had lifted a weight off your chest, only to set it directly on your stomach. Apprehension bubbled within you. Kylo Ren, your captor and the only person you had truly been able to speak with for quite some time—the only person to ever have been so privy to your thoughts, unwelcome or no—shifted his hand onto yours. You wrapped your fingers around his, holding onto him while adjusting your dominate hand into a more comfortable position. You waited for him to say it, to tease you, to ask if the Resistance was intimidated. Kylo Ren did not, which soon had you drawing your body closer to his and resting your forehead against his chest. You allowed your eyes to drift closed, and you eventually lost consciousness holding onto his hand.

In the middle of the sleep cycle, you awoke to the sensation of a hand slipping past the hem of your pants and cupping you. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you watched Kylo Ren in the dark. He was propped up on one elbow, his attention on the sheet that was covering your body and hiding his ministrations from view. His middle finger found your clit, which he nudged before sliding further along you. You shifted when you felt the digit prodding your entrance. Kylo Ren paused. He observed you for a number of seconds prior to moving his face closer to yours, his nose running along the side of your nose. It felt almost wet. Not snotty, however; you remained perfectly still at the realization that he had been crying, even if only for a moment.

“You can kiss me,” you whispered when he continued to refrain from touching you. His lips touched yours, however he did not fully kiss you. His breath mingled with yours. “What’s wrong?”

“This means nothing to you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know… Maybe…” Kylo Ren tilted his head to the side, his nose brushing past yours again as he leaned into the pillow. “I would still kill you if given the chance… But… It’s okay if you kiss me.” He simply laid there without saying another word. “Something to hold onto…sort of.” You reached up with your good hand, touching the side of his face with the very tips of your fingers. “At first…you made it painful…with the lightsaber. Then it was just to embarrass and shame me. I hated it. But…then you started to…to see what I liked. I thought it was a trick.”

“Are you so sure it wasn’t?”

“You could have dug into my mind if you were doing it just to get my body to betray me. You did that a few times… We are enemies. That’s not going to change.” You sighed, climbing on top of him. His arms twitched, his hands finding your hips. “You didn’t have to remove the caps from my teeth…so…tonight…just tonight…you can kiss me…and I’ll kiss you back.”

Kylo Ren lifted his head, his mouth again finding yours. This time his lips sealed around yours, and you shyly responded. It was different than when you had kissed him as an excuse to dig your nails into his flesh. At that time, you had not pitied him, had truly viewed him as a vile creature. As nothing more than a monster. There was no love on your part, however there was a certain acceptance. As well as the knowledge that things, and this man, were more complex than you would have ever cared to admit. Not quite light and dark, black and white. You both believed you were doing the right thing despite being on opposite sides. His soft lips yielded to yours; Kylo Ren was allowing you to explore, which caused your heart to hiccup.

You pulled back, swallowing some of the saliva that had gathered in your mouth while also taking a breath. The hands on your hips shifted onto your lower back. He did not buck against you. Nothing overtly sexual as it had always been in the past. Your throat was a little sore from when he had choked you. A part of you knew why he did it; the man was afraid, though of exactly what you did not know. You refused to complain about the soreness, however, and instead lowered your mouth back onto his. This time his tongue prodded your lips, and you allowed it to enter your mouth and begin to explore. You released a light moan at the sensation of his tongue running along your teeth. Kylo Ren also groaned at the new experience.

You started to run your tongue along his. He trembled a little underneath you, and you traced your fingertips further up his face to just under his eye. The majority of the wetness from his tears had already dried into a salty residue on his cheeks, yet the moisture closer to his eye was still present. You carefully slid both of your arms up under his, holding him as the two of you kissed. His arms, likewise, wound around you so that you were both holding one another. When next your mouth left his, you tucked yourself so that your head was under his chin. You were unsure which of you fell asleep first, however when you awoke at the start of the next waking cycle, you were each still holding the other.

And at the start of the next waking cycle, Kylo Ren seemed to have regained control over himself. Noticing you were awake, he turned you over and tugged off your clothes before also removing his own. Your wrists were pinned to either side of your head by the Force. Kylo Ren took himself in his hand, nudging your clit with the head of his cock before hitting against your entire cunt with his length. He smirked down at you. “You want this, tooke?” he asked. You breathed heavily, gulping and blushing. When you did not answer him, he again hit his shaft against you with a wet, fleshy smack that had you whimpering. “I want you begging for me, tooke.”

“I…I won’t,” you said, trembling and trying to get control of yourself.

Chuckling, Kylo Ren let go of himself in favor of grabbing hold of both your breasts. He started to knead you, massaging your boobs and then pinching your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. He tugged upwards, though not rough enough so that it hurt. He then threaded your nipples between his index and middle fingers. His hardening erection brushed back and forth against you when he rolled his hips.

You hummed to yourself as a form of distraction, and then started to list off foods you had not eaten in quite some time. Your voice caught more than once. He had you squirming and shuddering. Kylo Ren had started to suckle your neck, which had your toes curling. You squeezed your eyes closed, reciting lines from books you had read in your childhood in whispers. He paused above you, listening.

“I remember that one,” he murmured, causing you to blink your eyes open. You glanced down at him, finding his eyes on your face. “I hated it.”

“Well,” you said, wrinkling your nose, “I liked it.” He raised himself up on his forearms. “I told you: I won’t beg for it. I don’t want it.”

“You do.”

“My body, maybe, but that isn’t important.”

“Perhaps you simply need a mirror,” he said, smirking down at you. Your lips parted at the memory of watching him fuck you. “You can only distract yourself for so long.” His mouth claimed yours, and he was rutting against you while fondling your chest again. You inhaled sharply through your nose. You were literally shaking in his arms while you attempted to recall more words to the story you had been recounting mere minutes before. Nothing came to mind, however. He was working you in a way that you were starting to turn into putty in his hands.

“W-won’t beg!” you squealed when his mouth traveled to your jawline. “Wo-oh!-n’t beg.” He dipped his hips, grazing your entrance without entering you. You pushed at him with your good hand. “Stop! St-sto-oh-oh-oh-op.”

“Stubborn tooke,” he said, though he obliged and stilled his movements. “That isn’t how I wanted you to beg.”

“You are…horrible,” you groaned out. “Just do what you want with my body, but don’t make me beg for you. I won’t. I don’t want you…”

“In a physical sense? I believe you do.”

“Not sexually.”

“It is a suitable substitution, tooke.” You narrowed your eyes at his words, considering him. “You saw how well you enjoy it. How much your body craves it. I respect that your intentions are still to kill me. Now, indulge, tooke. Beg for it.”

“You’re lying,” you whispered. “I don’t want it… I can’t want it.”

“No?” he countered, his confidence unwavering. His sheer determination unnerved you. “It reminds you that I am human. You think of me as him, ignoring my true identity. A game of make-believe. Do you want me to pretend as well? Be gentle and kind?” You felt your bottom lip quivering. “You do want it. I can see it, tooke. You want to pretend that he isn’t dead. The pathetic son of your foolish general. Beg for me, and perhaps I’ll play along. Humor your sentimental needs.”

“P..pl…please,” you said meekly. His pupils dilated, and Kylo Ren licked his lips. But he said nothing, did nothing. You cringed and uttered out, “Please touch me…gently. Please be gentle. Please, Be—“ He hooked his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and preventing you from completing his birth name.

“Shh, tooke. I’ll be gentle.” Yet there was nothing gentle in his grin, merely victory. His lips, however, when they found yours were indeed more tender than ever they had been. When he thrust up into you, likewise, it was slow, sensual. You could feel his every muscle ripple, his body practically fusing with yours as though you were made for one another. “Like this, tooke?” he asked, his lips caressing yours with every word.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, closing your eyes and pretending you were only dreaming; that this was truly Ben Solo caressing you rather than Kylo Ren seducing you, manipulating you. Aware that he would not allow you to utter out the name, however, you settled for an alternative and called him nothing. “Yes…just like that.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your body with his. “Like this.”

“You’re mine, tooke,” he whispered in your ear, his tongue flicking out the next moment to trace around its shell. “You’re mine.”

“Nn…” You did not know how to respond. To play into the fantasy, to chance him taking those words to mean something when this game of make-believe was done. If it had been Ben Solo touching you, it would not end in pain. But it was Kylo Ren inside of you, and he had already claimed to have killed the part of him that was good. You did not believe his words entirely, and yet… And yet you would stop at nothing to kill him if you could. You clung more tightly onto him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t say that.” A sigh from him, yet no protest. “Mm…faster…y-yeah, like that.”

He shifted onto his knees, dragging you up with him as you would not relinquish your hold on him, so that he could move even faster in and out of you. You started to pant underneath him, sweat gathering on your body. You rocked your hips into his, meeting his thrusts.

“You have such a nice pussy, tooke.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, arching your back when he started to use the Force to stroke your clit. “Mmm, yeah. Don’t stop.” He chuckled, murmuring out a swear a moment later as your vaginal walls began to clench and unclench around him.

“Shit, you really do like that.” Another laugh, and he was shoving you off his lap just before you could reach orgasm. Your eyes flew open and you stared at him with your mouth agape. “I’m done playing, tooke. Beg for me. If you want to cum, beg for me.”

“I…I won’t.”

“I can keep you at the edge for however long I like.” As though emphasizing his words and backing his threat, a wave of the Force grazed your clit again, causing you to buck your hips in the air. You choked down a sob and bunched his blankets up with your fist. “You may be patient, tooke, but I am in control here. You’ll never defeat me no matter how hard you try.” Another undulation, and you did sob this time while unconsciously spreading your legs further in welcoming for him. His smirk widened. “So desperate…for me.”

“K-kriff… You… You’re wretched!” You threw your head back when the next stroke teased your sensitive nub.

“You’re dripping all over the blankets, tooke.” He traced his tongue along his lips slowly. Your body familiar with how that wonderful organ felt against your clit, inside your cunt, you felt yourself wetting further for him. Felt your walls grasping at nothing. Your eyes dropped to his cock, still hard and beginning to drip precum. “You’re simply delaying the inevitable.” A swirl of pressure this time. You nearly came undone, but he did not allow you to reach climax. “Beg, tooke.”

“I…” Your nostrils flared as you exhaled sharply before swallowing your pride; he was right—he was in control of this situation. And unlike all those times in the past, he was not going to get up and walk away. Time was on his side, and it was up for you. “P-please fuck me…R-Ren.” He wasted no time in seizing your hips and pulling you back onto him. You wasted no time in meeting his hard and fast thrusts. Your eyes were locked with one another’s. A battle of sorts, you realized, and so you did not look away. Not even when your eyelids were fluttering as you spilled around him, nor when he was grunting and groaning as his cum filled your pussy.

Only when he grinned in victory, declaring in a voice that was just above a whisper: “You’re mine, tooke.”

Though you cowered, though your eyes could no longer meet his, you murmured, “Never.” And he laughed, his mouth sealing over yours so that you were forced to swallow down his glee.

Your protests were further blocked, further mocked when he had your arms pinned with his legs. He knelt over you, his cock down your throat—and Kylo Ren stretched down. You nearly screamed around his dick, your body spasming when his mouth met your cunt. He lapped at you like a hungry animal, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth in rapid succession. Your legs were not his captives, not even by the Force, and so you spread them for him. You told yourself that you were not his, but that did not mean you would deny yourself; because, on that front, your captor was correct. This was a suitable substitution for killing him, at least for now. A physical outlet.

Your fingers twitched, hands threatening to go numb under the weight of his legs. You heard a strange noise from him, realizing that he was curling his tongue only after spit hit directly against your clit. The sudden pressure caused you to gasp. You nearly choked around his cock. Ren withdrew enough to give you a moment to breathe, and then your tongue was working his shaft, the head of his erection venturing close to the back of your throat.

You bent your legs at the knees and set your feet flat against the mattress. In this manner, you bucked upwards to move your hips closer to his mouth when he had begun to pull back in retreat. “Beg,” he whispered, albeit loud enough for you to hear. His breath was hot against your cunt. Kylo Ren rolled his hips, and you whimpered. You did not want to beg, to give into him again.

And yet…

It’s just a stupid game.

You were not certain how true your words were; at the time, it hardly mattered. You begged, your please, Ren no more than a hum around his cock. He titled back his head, not obliging. You repeated the plea, this time more desperate. Your nose brushed against his pubic hair.

Kylo Ren pressed a finger into you after the third repetition of you obeying, of you begging him. A second finger moved into you as well. You squirmed at the way he stretched you. The man rose a bit on his knees, only the head of his cock between your lips. You laved it with your tongue, teasing his slit. When he began to work a third finger into you, your eyes bulged. It was strange, how he was stretching you.

A fourth—“Mm!” The sheets were bunched up in your toes, which curled and uncurled. Kylo Ren had his thumb on your clit, rocking it back and forth. A hum of thought from him. You did not receive a chance to whimper at the loss of contact. A scream, which he muffled by thrusting back into your mouth, escaped you. Your legs were shaking, feet scrambling against the mattress until he held them down with the Force.

Yes, babies came out of the vagina, but still…

He worked his fist in and out of you. You felt so full, so wet. His cock in your mouth had you breathing through your nose, smelling him as he pressed closer and closer, thrust deeper into you—with both his cock and his fist.

That large hand. You groaned at the thought of how big it was, how it felt inside of you. He was going to ruin you.

“You’ve taken my lightsaber in you, tooke,” he purred. You groaned at the memory of that—you had not enjoyed having his weapon inside of you. This, however… “So open for me. Fuck!” You swallowed repeatedly, his cum running down your throat. You came as well, a wet, gushing pop when he pulled his fist from you. “Fuck,” he repeated. “The sheets are soaked, tooke.”

As was his hand, which glistened when you caught sight of it.

This did not make you his, you reminded yourself.

[Perhaps it is not hate; I may miss you when you’re gone. That never made it love— It’s been obsession all along.]

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #three blind tooke #resistance is futile #elmidolfanfic

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devnny · 5 years

Text

CHAPTER NINE.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

this was too fun to write knowing what comes next, PLEASE ENJOY

Tenna leaned her cheek against her hand with a smile, swaying the leg that she had slung over her knee as she sat across the table from her unexpected guest. It was a mischievous, evil smile, Devi thought.

“So,” She tittered a little. “how’s your househusband?”

“Please, do NOT call him that.” Devi begged, eyes rolling firmly backwards in her skull.

Tenna continued her snickering.

“That what he is, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on.” Tenna scoffed, her mug scooting across the table as she extended her hands out. “How many times has he made dinner this week?”

“That has NOTHING to do with ANYTHING.” Devi pointed at her defensively. “He should be cooking for me – it’s not like he pays rent! That’s just him earning his keep.”

“Uh-huhhh…” Tenna nodded as if she was humoring the denials. Devi gurgled her irritation in the back of throat.

“But he is behaving himself, like a good little hubby might?”

“Tenna…” Devi gritted her molars, and Tenna belted out another set of laughs.

“WELL, IS HE?”

“YES, he is behaving fine. Like a dog might.” She answered, more comfortable comparing Johnny to a mostly-domesticated creature than even conceptualizing the joke of him being a spouse to anyone, especially her. Tenna bobbed her head along again. Devi settled back into her chair, hoping to relax.

“He’s been asleep all day.” She complained. “I want to wake his ass up so I can paint, because I can’t be blasting music in there if he’s sleeping on his desk, but he probably needs the rest. He supposedly hadn’t slept in ‘months’ before this.”

Tenna’s tongue poked out from behind her smile, followed by a sharp squeak from somewhere out of Devi’s line of sight.

“That’s so considerate of you, Devi—!”

“DO NOT even TRY to construe any decency I have as acts of kindness for him.” Devi cut her off with a squint.

Two more squeaks.

“Why are you so defensive about this? It’s okay to enjoy the company of your roommate.” Tenna teased again. Devi grumbled.

Tenna hadn’t let up on this topic since she found out that Johnny was officially moved into the apartment. At this point, laying on the couch aimlessly with a sleeping Johnny in the adjacent room was more appealing than sitting here and getting ridiculed for her wrongly-assumed-nice choices.

“Forget it. I’m going to go check—” Devi started as she stood, but cut herself off as her friend flittered another smile toward her.

“…go check on him.” She finished unhappily, then left before Tenna could mock her again.

TWO FLOORS ABOVE:

“No…!” Devi’s voice was waning, and he laughed.

“No, Johnny, no, don’t—”

Johnny dug the knife into her chest again, and felt a rush of satisfaction that she was helpless to stop him. He never held the control between the two of them, but this time she would be answering to him! She hardly even tried to push him away, only calling out with a voice that was growing softer with each gasp she worked to swallow.

She deserved this for being so rude to him! Awful woman – she had such biting words before, but now she had to reserve her fangs for biting back the blood that sputtered out past her lips. It made him laugh.

“Nny…” Devi croaked out.

He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest, and his arms chilled, startling him with the stark contrast of how hot his skin had felt just a moment ago, burning with the pleasure of revenge.

There was no pleasure in this.

She was dying.

Johnny’s body spasmed and he whacked his elbows against his desk as he awoke with a guttural gasp. He scrambled into a sitting position in his chair, slapping his palms on the surface of his drafting table like a scurrying animal. As he got his bearings, his head swiveled around frantically, until he was certain that he knew where he was – which was sitting in Devi’s art room.

A breath shuddered out of him through his panting, and he gulped as best he could past the dry lump in his throat.

Just another fucking dream. He had fallen asleep. GOD, he hated sleeping. The last thing he remembered was finishing the project that he had been working so madly on. He must have laid his head down on his desk afterwards and opened himself up to the horrors of his fervid mind.

He didn’t want to disclose it to Devi, but this was not the first dream he had about killing her since her intervention into his life. The first was the night after their tutoring sessions restarted, after their minor falling out due to him attacking her with a pen.

That week Johnny had cried his guts sore, then rode wave after wave of anxiety about meeting Devi again and attempting to apologize, then nearly combusted with joy that she actually forgave him. He must have burned himself out, he had figured, with the last of his drawing attempts the night following that, then had passed out when he got home.

Stupid emotions, so tiring.

He sneered and roughly rubbed his uneven hair, then turned his attention to his sketchbook that laid closed in front of him. He opened it to check his work, partly to distract himself from the lingering tendrils of his nightmare, and partly out of rampant curiosity of what the final result was.

His lower eyelid wiggled uncomfortably at the figure that greeted him.

DEVI? He had been drawing Devi this entire time?

Jeezus, how was he supposed to share this with her? He hadn’t meant to put a week’s worth of effort into a portrait of… her, but he had, and now he would need to hide it away to ensure she didn’t think he was a total creep and throw him out of her house on his ass.

Johnny pouted; it was the nicest thing he’d made in years, too. He really liked the lines, and how it was layered through multiple pages. He sighed and settled the cover closed again.

“So, you’re finally up, huh?” Devi stood in the doorway, previously obscured by the sketchbook he held up. Johnny screamed.

“AH—OH, UH, DEVI…!” He blathered, clutching the book close to his chest. Devi chuckled.

“It’s weird seeing you sleeping.” She commented as she walked the short way to his desk. “You snore a little bit, by the way.”

Johnny’s nose crinkled, unaware that he snored. Strange.

“I saw your little project.” She said, and his heart toppled into the hopeless abyss of his stomach. Devi laughed again at the terrified look on his face. She hated to admit that she felt more relaxed around Johnny than Tenna these days, but that could just be her pride talking.

“DEVI, I…” He gasped, then swallowed and tried again. “I-I promise, it’s, it’s really not as… uhm, intimate, as it seems—”

“Oh please don’t use that word for it.” Devi scoffed casually.

Johnny lowered nervously, partially hiding behind his sketchbook.

“Just promise me it’s not like, a testament to your undying love for me, and I won’t have to club you to death.” She teased, and Johnny’s eyes went wide in embarrassment.

“NO, NOT AT ALL.” He stood. “I just, I—I didn’t even realize this is what I was making until it… was done! Honest!”

Devi blinked at him skeptically.

“You… didn’t know what you were making?”

“Yes! It was like I was compelled to make that!”

She squinted at him with some suspicion.

“Do you think… Meat influenced you to create it, then?” She asked.

Johnny’s panic dissolved at the question.

“Oh…” His eyes wandered down to the sketchbook, but he was not worried about the idea of Meat’s interference with that. “No, I don’t think so.”

But with the mention of it, he was suddenly very suspicious that his parasite was the cause of his horrible dreams. He couldn’t understand what the Reverend would want as a result from tormenting him with bloody, anguished Devi’s, but Johnny was confident at least that the motive was part of the voice’s ‘plan’ for him. Against his better judgement, he kept those thoughts from Devi for the time being.

“What makes you so sure?” Devi crossed her arms loosely. “I mean, I guess it is creating, so the likelihood is low, but it’s still… me-related.”

Johnny shook his head and inched a ways closer to her.

“A lot of things right now are you-related.” He replied, almost a little smug, and Devi scoffed a smile again.

“Whatever.” She waved him off.

Devi returned to the living room, and Johnny trailed after her, stopping short when he saw her shrugging her jacket on. She had just wanted to paint today, but there was a more pressing issue on the agenda now.

“Hope you’re up for an outing,” She turned to him and gave him an annoyed look. “because we have to go to the store, seeing as you ate all my food.”

Johnny’s upper lip dropped low in surprise, then tightened back up into a guilty smile as he laced his hands behind his back. It was strange having so much food available to eat; he couldn’t recall his own cupboards and fridge ever having such variety. He had allowed himself to get a little carried away with his snacking while Devi was asleep – he still remembered, with some lingering pain, his whining and belly-aching after eating until he was far beyond full for the first time in maybe a year. Devi had shown little sympathy for him.

“Ah – of course!” Johnny shrugged happily, eager to sooth any irritation she had with him with dutiful agreements. Devi huffed a little and hitched her backpack securely onto her shoulders, then lead the pair out of the apartment.

AT A NEARBY GROCERY STORE:

Usually, Devi was content with shopping at convenience stores for her groceries, but the small-sized portions and limited selections at a 24/7 or a Grab n’ Go weren’t very good for restocking her entire food supply, so she begrudgingly parked her car in the lot of an actual grocery store. She and Johnny watched from the safety of Devi’s car as a mother wheeled a cart past them that was half full of food, and half full of wailing toddlers. Devi turned to give him a bitter expression, as if he had intentionally eaten her out of house and home and forced her to come here. Johnny offered a nervous smile as reply.

“At least it’s getting late?” He chuckled just as nervously. “So, maybe less screaming babies?”

Devi muttered her complaints under her breath and opened her door to get out, followed hurriedly by Johnny.

They walked briskly to the store’s front, with Devi ignoring all the annoying things she saw in the parking lot to the best of her ability, and with Johnny eyeing every unpleasant and rude act he saw with the shifting eyes of a predator. Neither of them enjoyed being among the masses even on a good day, but Johnny felt particularly on edge being near so many irritating things after such little recent exposure. If Devi wasn’t beside him, he was certain he would have snapped before even getting to the entrance.

He kept close to her side while she wheeled a shopping cart from aisle to aisle, and mused to himself how odd the action was. He never went to places where you’d even be offered the luxury of a shopping cart – not that he was ever buying enough things to require one, what with his meager funds and all. Devi dropped seemingly random things into it, and Johnny, rather than even attempt to suggest anything that he might want to eat too, only eyed the options that she chose inquisitively, settled in the idea that whatever she chose was all that would be available to him anyway.

Johnny had no complains about Devi’s taste in cereals or cheap instant food, and shortly found himself uninterested with their current errand. While Devi checked a carton of eggs for any broken shells, his eyes wandered around the length of the back aisle they were on, and a disruption on the opposite side of the store drew his attention.

When Devi turned back to ask him something, she was horrified to find him missing.

“JOHNNY!” She called out immediately, stricken with both concern and anger.

She got no response, and abandoned her cart to look for him, hoping that he was just a few rows away and got distracted by something shiny or sugary.

Two aisles, nothing.

Four aisles, nothing.

Devi’s anxiety rose the longer it took for her to find him, and after two failed sweeps of the store, it reached a fevered pitch. She had absolutely no concern for his safety, of course, but rather for the safety of every asshole in the proximity of the building. That thought spurred her to go check the parking lot, and she rushed to the front of the store again.

Her boots clanked on the sidewalk as she paced from one end of the parking lot to the other. It irritated a man soliciting near the entrance, but when he went to confront her about her annoying actions, Devi shoved him to the side and out of her way as she sped by. She opened her mouth to call for Johnny again, when a sickeningly damp, whacking sound hit her left ear, and she turned her focus to the alleyway that lead to the back of the grocery.

“Oh, no.” She winced. “Please, Christ.”

With all of her urgency to find him only seconds ago, the speed that she crept to the alley felt achingly slow. Devi hurried the last few steps, and whipped around the wall, convinced that Johnny is what she would see.

She wasn’t disappointed in that regard, at least.

Johnny stood some yards away with his back to her, his slender frame barely visible with the dark backdrop of the alleyway, but unmistakable to Devi. Some poor soul lay at his feet, and Johnny’s arm pulled back, revealing he was equipped with a pipe of some sort. Devi’s mouth hung open in dismay.

“JOHNNY C.” Her voice roared out of her, and Johnny’s body tensed instinctually.

His hand popped open like a talon, letting his weapon of opportunity fall to the badly maintained asphalt with a chorus of metallic clanking. He turned to look at Devi fearfully, and her stare only grew angrier from the clear view of the blood spatter that reached up to his elbows on both arms. Johnny’s face stretched uncomfortably as he forced an anxious smile onto it.

“D… DEVI.” He tried to laugh out. “I, UH… I can explain!”

One of his muddied hands swung back to gesture at the man laying beaten behind him. The man groaned incoherently, then went quiet again. Johnny grimaced, and jolted where he stood as Devi began to approach him with quickening speed.

“YOU—”

“NO, WAIT.” Johnny evaded her a moment by circling around her, suddenly worried about getting cornered just as he had his victim. His arms jutted out to the man on the floor again. “He was calling his girlfriend all sorts of degrading things! In public!”

“Johnny…!” She growled.

A bead of sweat slid down his temple.

“I swear I was going to let him live!” He insisted. “It wasn’t going to be a murder, just a little head bashing, that’s all!”

“OH, THAT’S “ALL”!?” Devi yelled at him, and slipped an arm free from the straps of her backpack. Both hands gripped the other strap, and she propelled it forward in an aggressive swing, tagging Johnny somewhere near his collar. The power behind the hit knocked him to the floor, and Devi stood over him with her knees bent to continue beating him with her bag.

“YOU IDIOT!” She hissed between swings. “I CAN’T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE!”

Johnny pleaded with her through fearful shrieks and all manner of breathless grunts from being struck, but nothing would stop Devi until her rage had run its course. All he could do was shield his face with his forearms until she decided his punishment was over.

At least her bag didn’t have much in it, from what he could feel. He was more concerned that she would abandon it in favor of her much more deadly clenched fists, or maybe the pipe that he had so mercilessly battered that jerk with, which was still laying nearby.

“Ugh!” Devi exclaimed with one final smack of her backpack on his chest.

She stepped over his form and readjusted her bag onto her shoulders, unconcerned about if the contents inside were broken or not. Johnny peeked an eye open at her from the ground, and watched her fix her frazzled hair a moment before scampering upright again. Devi scowled at him, and he replied with a sheepish smile, happy despite himself that she hadn’t cracked his skull open like an egg.

Devi’s nose crinkled, and she lowered her eyes down to his arms and hands, which still had patches of dirty blood on them. His fingers wiggled at his sides, as if in response to her staring, and she glowered.

This was not good. Even when she was right next to him, Johnny, the slippery little fucker, had absconded to commit some violent act – and she wasn’t sure she bought his claims that it wouldn’t have turned fatal, instead suspecting it only didn’t because of her timely appearance. Shit!

“What more do you expect me to do, Johnny?” Devi asked through bared teeth, and his smile dropped into an ashamed pout.

“I… uh, well, nothing.” He replied with a single scuff of his boot on the floor. He was more remorseful for upsetting her than he was for indulging in his desire for carnage, what with her doing so much to help him and all. She shouldn’t need to do anything more – it was just so difficult to control himself with bastards like that populating the city! Such hard choices…

“You need to clean up. You can’t go back into the store with blood all over you.” Devi snipped, and Johnny perked up, hopeful his answer would calm her.

“I’ll just wash off in the bathroom – no one ever notices the blood, anyway.”

“No, of course they wouldn’t.” Devi closed her eyes in annoyance. The universe just liked to hand Johnny free passes for getting away with dastardly deeds, didn’t it?

She started to walk out of the alley, and Johnny paid his latest victim a quick glance – he was still twitching, that was good! – before he followed Devi back into the store.

A myriad of low-spoken curse words ghosted past Devi’s lips as she waited for him outside the men’s bathroom door, and her bitter mood continued when Johnny popped back out to display his now-clean palms to her.

She was disappointed, again, and hated herself for getting comfortable, again. Why did she always fall into the same trap of overconfidence when it came to her ability to control this lunatic? Even with Johnny acting fairly normal and domestic with her at home, he was still like a volatile chemical, and mixing him with anything besides his routine could make him explode.

They returned to the cart that Devi had left near the dairy section, and she felt a tiny bit of relief that it was still sitting there untouched. After grabbing a couple more things, they went through a check stand, paid for their crap, and Devi glared at nothing, one bag in her arms, while Johnny gathered up the other two from the end of the counter.

Amongst her brooding, a blip of color in her peripheral caught her attention, and she looked to the woman that had been behind them in line. She was standing, talking cheerfully with the cashier, while her toddler daughter tried to rush over to the attractive, cheap toy and candy dispensers on the front wall. The poor thing couldn’t get far however, with her brilliantly colored monkey toddler harness and leash springing her backwards onto her butt every time she tried to charge ahead.

Devi blinked, her curiosity peaked, and she looked back up to the mother, who continued on with what she was doing, unbothered by her hyperactive child, unworried about having to watch her, with the pink handle of the leash held firmly in her hand reassuring her that her daughter was right where she expected her to be.

“What?” Johnny asked in regard to Devi’s thinking face.

“Hmm…” Devi looked off thoughtfully.

That might work.

NEXT.

#got some good old fashioned gore this time so whatchout #jthm #jtrm #mine #devnny #im howling lets go alreadyyyyyyy #chapter

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immortalcoelacanth · 5 years

Text

Smile For Me Fanfic: Hazy Introductions (Part 2)

Summary: Hurt thanks to your sudden fall off the stairs, your savior had appeared in the form of Habit, your enemy. As you woke up on a worn sofa, cuddling the scarf you had seen around Habit’s neck, questions danced through your mind. Why had he decided to help you? Where had he taken you? What was going to happen next? “Flower? R u awake now?” Oh lovely, it looked like the doctor was here.

Word count: 1987

Slowly, your senses began to return as the shroud that blanketed your mind faded, the exhaustion giving way to a conscious mind as you rose from your slumber. Your wrist and knee felt cold, and there was something soft clutched in your other hand. The air smelled somewhat clinical, reminding you of a doctor’s office, and you sneezed.

Where… where am I?

Blurry eyes cracked open and you winced at the bright sunlight that filtered through a large window situated not too far away. You appeared to be in a living room of some sort and had been sleeping on a rather worn-down sofa. Another inspection of your surroundings revealed that you were holding onto the scarf you had seen around Habit’s neck, and there appeared to be an ice pack on your wrist and knee.

Had… had Habit of all people taken care of you? Granted the ice was a temporary fix and only numbed the pain, but it was still surprising.

Your enemy had helped you, taken you somewhere to rest and heal up despite all the cruel things he had said about you and towards you. Speaking of which, where were you anyways…

You sat up, careful to not jostle your knee or use your wounded wrist to push yourself up, and looked around. Furniture that was just as worn as the sofa greeted your eyes, as well as strange, motivational posters that were plastered here and there. It reminded you of those weird “facts” that covered the walls of the Habitat.

This was definitely where Habit lived, and you wanted nothing more than to flee, figure out how to get back to your room, however before you could even attempt to get off of the sofa, an accented voice floated through the air.

“Flower? R u awake now?”

Oh no.

Well, there went you only chance at escape. Slowly, oh so slowly, you turned around until your terrified eyes met those of your captor-

…

Oh god.

He looked cute.

Habit certainly resembled the murals you had seen covering the walls of the Habitat, but honestly none of those compared to the real thing, with his excessively fluffy hair and rather… withdrawn demeanor that he seemed to radiate.The first thing you noticed was that he looked tired, drained and weary. Orange eyes with heavy bags under them inspected you and you instinctively shifted, uncomfortable being the center of his attention.

You noticed his eyes momentarily glance towards the scarf in your hands before returning to your face. Okay, perhaps this would be the time to make a good first impression…?

Even if he hated you, maybe there was a chance you could salvage things and get out of here as quickly as possible.

You held out the scarf towards him and watched as the exhausted expression on his face changed to surprise. “Oh, thank u.”

He walked towards the couch, towering above you once again, and quickly took the scarf back. You noticed the faint smell of bubble gum toothpaste emanating off him, and also watched as the faintest hint of a smile appeared before fading.

You didn’t find it too surprising that the supposed Smile Expert had the same problems as everyone else in the Habitat. Granted, you certainly had no intention of trying to help Habit right now. You just wanted to leave.

Silence dragged on as you did everything in your power to avoid looking Habit in the eyes while he fiddled with his scarf. To be fair it wasn’t like you could actually start a conversation but sitting there made you wish you could.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity had passed, Habit cleared his throat and spoke. “How do u feel?”

You waved your hand in a so-so gesture, you weren’t in pain, but you certainly didn’t feel comfortable, and then gestured towards the large window, hoping Habit would understand what you meant.

He kind of did.

“You… want to go?” That strange accent seemed to fade for a moment, and you nodded in response.

Yes, you wanted to leave, and preferably not through the window-

Oh god.

He was tall enough to throw you through the window.

The fingers on your uninjured hand twitched, nearly signing something, however you cut yourself off and just scooted further away from Habit. Interestingly enough, this was enough to provoke another burst of unaccented words.

“You don’t need to be scared!”

Really? Was he sure about that? With the not so subtle threats he had thrown your way, you doubted that was the truth. Your disbelief must have been clearly shown on your face since Habit sighed and took a seat beside you on the sofa.

Unfortunately, your wounded leg was jostled and you cringed in pain. Habit noticed and stammered out an apology while readjusting the ice pack.

“Soree! I did knot mean to do that!”

Well at least you could hear the sincerity in his voice. That and the regret blatantly displayed on his face. You shrugged your shoulders, hoping that would convey the it’s alright you currently felt.

Why did no one here know sign language?

Okay, so things were going fine so far. Habit was being nice, and you weren’t being tormented in any way. You were safe..?

You could leave…?

Habit seemed to take your silence, and your previous gesture, as a sign for him to continue talking. “U got hurt because of Me : - (.”

This was true.

“I didn’t want…” His accented seemed to be fading in and out, mixing with the guilt in his voice as he looked down towards the ground. “Flower, you were two still and your hurt…”

You winced and reached out to pat his leg in an attempt to comfort him. He jolted and looked up at you. There were tears in his eyes and, just like before, he seemed to be focused on something else.

Bad memories maybe? Habit’s family hadn’t been the best from what you knew, but it looked like things had been far worse than what you had assumed.

You pat his leg again and Habit blinked at you. “Do you… forgive Me? : - O?”

You nodded, even if that wasn’t the exact truth. You were then stunned when Habit actually appeared to smile for a moment. A soft, genuine grin crossing his face before quickly fading.

“I knead to fix the stairs befour some else gets hurt.” He mumbled to himself, eyes scanning over the ice packs that were still sitting on your injuries. “But u should bee fine now.”

He wasn’t wrong since the pain had totally faded thanks to the chilling effect of the ice, so you removed the packs from your wrist and knee and set them off to the side. Habit watched you and, once the packs were gone, decided to suggest something.

“Flower, can you tri to walk four Me? Sow I can sea if you’re knee is better?”

You were going to fall flat on your face. You knew this, and yet you found yourself nodding as you didn’t want to make Habit upset. A part of you screamed that you shouldn’t be so nice to him, act so polite towards the person who was technically responsible for you getting hurt and tormenting you, but you couldn’t help it.

Habit stood upright and gestured for you to follow him. The second your bad leg had any sort of weight put on it, agony shot through your knee and you collapsed.

Fortunately Habit managed to catch you right before you fell and scooped you up into his arms. Your eyes widened in surprise and you latched onto his scarf once more as you tried to process what had happened.

He… he had picked you up again, helped you again.

Why…

You could feel the blush heating up your face, so what happened next was not all that surprising.

Pop!

Without warning, a flower suddenly sprouted out of the top of your head. It appeared to be a rather simple daisy that swayed back and forth for a moment before falling still.

Habit was also still, silent as he processed what had just happened. Then, without warning, he reached out and booped the flower while still cradling you using his other arm.

“Such a pretty flower! : - D!” He beamed, a large smile on his face as he inspected the daisy.

You felt your blush grow, but before another flower could sprout you quickly shook your head and began moving your fingers, signing.

It’s not pretty. It’s annoying. Can you let me leave now?

Of course, you had forgotten Habit didn’t know sign language and only remembered that fact when you caught sight of the confused stare that was being sent your way.

Right. He didn’t know what you were saying.

No one did.

“Flower…? R u ok?”

You startled at the question, jolting and looking up at Habit in surprise. The smile had faded, replaced by that genuine worry, and you instinctively nodded. Yup. You were fine. Nothing to worry about here-

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you were suddenly pressed against a warm, somewhat fluffy surface. That bubble gum smell from earlier had grown stronger.

Habit was… hugging you…

You enemy was being nice to you. Were you even enemies anymore at this point? It was clear that there was something else going on here, something you had to figure out.

Why that distant look had appeared in his eyes when he scared you earlier. Why he acted so different now that you were face to face with each other instead of being separated by a screen.

What was he remembering by being in your presence?

After relaxing in the hug for some, unknown amount of time, you squirmed in his arms and hoped that he would understand your unspoken message. While the hug certainly felt nice, despite the fact that you had known Habit for about an hour, you were ready to head back to your room.

It was fairly late in the afternoon now and you had a feeling some of the Habiticians would notice that you were missing. Nat might notify the others, and you had work you needed to do after all. Smiles to help people recover and flowers to grow.

“Oh, you want to leeve now?” Habit asked, and you could hear the disappointment in his voice. Why did he feel disappointed? Why did he care?

Did he want to see you again? Why would he want to see you? Did he consider you to be a friend? An acquaintance? Why were you thinking about this so much anyways? Why did you care?

Did you care?

Your questions went unanswered as Habit took your silence as a yes and lifted you up into his arms once more, holding you close to his chest. As he walked out of the living room and down a hallway that appeared to connected to some sort of elevator, you thought about that last question.

Did you care about Habit? About the person that he might truly be? The person who had helped you.

If he was truly bad, if he had truly hated you, then surely he would have left you were he had first found you. His actions had a source, his past…

A creature born of circumstance.

It was this thought that made you tap his shoulder and catch his attention. Curious and confused, he looked at you and started to speak, however before he could do so, you grabbed one of his hands and traced something against his palm.

His confusion seemed to grow so you repeated the action, and it was then that he understood what you were doing.

Introducing yourself.

Habit smiled, a beaming grin that showed off the gap in his teeth. “What a beautiful name!”

Pop!

Great, just what you needed, another daisy. xxxxxxxxxx

I just realized I forgot to put a little concluding thing here! Thank you all so much for reading this two part fic and I hope you enjoyed it! I think I might turn this into a small series involving reader interactions in the Habitat and I already have plans for another fic I’m thinking about writing!

Once again thank you all so much for your support!

- ImmortalCoelacanth

#my story #fanfiction #smile for me #sfm #second person pov #reader as flower kid #boris habit #tfw you scare someone #and are immediately reminded of your abusive father #habit experiences *memories*#while reader is confused and wholesome #and smol

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sweetheartjeongguk · 5 years

Text

salvation (m)

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: zombie apocalypse au, e2l au, smut, angst, fluff

rating: nc-17

warning(s): mentions of blood and gore, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, brief mentions of vomit

word count: 7.1k+

summary: it’s a wonder what six months can entail, especially amidst a zombie apocalypse.

masterlist

When you were 13 years old, you told your mother that you would never like Min Yoongi even if you were the last two people on Earth.

She must be rolling around in laughter in her grave at your present situation - stuck in a dirty, abandoned motel room with your arch nemesis.

“Stop touching me.”

“I’m not even touching you.”

“Then what’s on my foot?”

“It’s probably that rat I saw earlier.”

“What?!”

Correction: your entire family are probably laughing their asses off as they watch you jump a hundred feet in the air while smacking at your ankle at the nonexistent rodent. Yoongi’s eyes are closed, but the smug smirk on his face says it all.

“Oh, you must think you’re so funny, don’t you?” You sneer, wincing slightly when you lean on your other leg for balance.

While the injury from six months ago has healed up completely, leaving behind a thin scar, your leg hasn’t been the same since.

“Oh, I know so.” Yoongi doesn’t even open his eyes.

He just keeps his arms crossed his chest, head nestled in the hard-as-rock motel pillows while his body is protected from the uncomfortable draft with the scratchy blankets.

“Lay down, you’re giving me anxiety.” Yoongi grumbles. “Your leg’s gonna get worse.”

“Why do you care?” You scoff, still standing a good three feet from your side of the bed.

“I don’t.” He opens his eyes, squinting tiredly at your figure swaying from side to side. “More room for myself then. Enjoy the floor, I’m sure the rat is happy to share.”

To this day, you’ve kept to your word. Now that you and Yoongi are the last two people on Earth, you’re 100% sure that you don’t like him.

There are many reasons why you hate Min Yoongi, but there are three that you hate the most.

First off, he’s a know-it-all asshole. During your junior year of high school, you were practicing your presentation for AP Biology when he came bounding in your living room and proceeded to pick apart your essay while laughing his ass off with your brother. He just watched as you brushed past him and your brother in tears with a sodden copy of your essay on DNA replication in your trembling hands.

Secondly, he’s the pickiest man to ever roam the planet. Even after you escaped from a horde of the undead just an hour before, he still found time to go through every single room of the abandoned motel and took nearly half an hour testing the springiness of the mattresses. You nearly had an aneurysm each time you dragged your bags into the room only for the man to say “Nope, too stiff!” or “Hmm, too itchy!” or his ultimate favorite “Let’s be honest, can we see each other in here?”

Last but not least, Min Yoongi cares for no one but himself. Even after the world went to shit and it came down to just you and Yoongi, you know the look in his eyes whenever you catch him looking at you. He didn’t want to be here, same as you. If he didn’t want to spend even five minutes in the same room as you when you were teenagers, you don’t doubt for a second that he regrets his decision to stay with you for the rest of your indefinite future.

In his eyes, you’re just the annoying little sister of his high school best friend. In your eyes, he’s the dickhead who would eat all your Hot Cheetos you stored away in a specific place in the kitchen pantry and brag about his college hookups and drunk episodes with your brother while you’re still in the room.

You glare at his back when the darkness of the motel room settles in. “I hope the rat bites your dick off in your sleep.”

“Kinky. Now, shut up and go to sleep.”

The next morning is no better than the night before. You end up sleeping on the small couch in the corner of the room near the front room, your upper body twisted in an odd pretzel shape while your legs hung off the arm. The amusement on Yoongi’s face when he wakes you up with a single shove to the shoulder is blatantly obvious, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“Get up, they’re gone now. Probably got distracted by some other poor guy outside.” Yoongi mutters as he grabs his backpack from underneath the bed. “Wash up a little before we leave, you’re looking a little crusty and smelling a little musty.”

You send him a dark glare. “Sorry for not smelling like sunshine and roses in the fucking zombie apocalypse. Next time, I’ll be sure to stop by Bath and Body Works later.”

Yoongi mirrors your unimpressed look but says nothing else as he watches you trudge forward and lock yourself in the bathroom to freshen up. To your luck, the entire plumbing system has gone to crap - both literally and metaphorically - so instead, you rely on your several bottled waters in your backpack and the miniscule amount of toothpaste and soap left to wash up and brush your teeth.

“There she is, Miss Universe 20-whatever the fuck year it is.” Yoongi drawls sarcastically when you finally exit the bathroom, slightly freshened up and smelling like mint and the cheap motel soapbar left in the shower cubby.

“Let’s just get the fuck out here.” You brush past to open the door, but you’re instantly stopped by Yoongi’s hand that prevents you from it fully swinging open.

“Are you fucking insane? Where’s your weapon?” Yoongi berates you, eyes searching your body for the pocket knife that you usually carry on you. “Didn’t your brother teach you not to open shit if you’re not sure what’s on the other side?”

“You just told me that they’re gone, so what?” You hiss, attempting to pull the door open again, but Yoongi’s a lot stronger than you think. “Let. Go.”

“I’m going first.” You let out a “Hey!” when he pushes you away with a small shove. “Get your knife out and stay behind me.”

It’s a good thing that Yoongi’s completely focused on peeking around the door for stray zombies or else he wouldn’t be so pleased at the number of mouthed curses and grimaces you send at the back of his head.

“Come on.” He nods forward, and you follow behind with your knife grasped firmly in your palm.

“Where to next, Min?” You yawn as you begin your journey down the road, twisting your neck from side to side in an attempt to rid your body of its soreness.

“I’m not sure yet.” He answers shortly. “Last time I checked, there’s nothing really around here. Just a bunch of cabins and trees.”

“Should we try to find a cabin then? Safer bet if we want some food and shelter.” You suggest, but you’re not surprised when Yoongi shakes his head.

“They’re probably occupied or swarming with crawlies.” Yoongi scoff. “We’re better off on the road.”

“Or we could just take out the dead and then take over the house.” You add, getting a little too excited over the idea of a warm cabin with semi-clean sheets and the possibility of food. “Or maybe if there’s people, we could-”

“I said no.” Yoongi snaps, sending you a sharp glare. “Can you listen for once?”

You feel your chest sting. “It’s just a suggestion.”

“Well, you need to wake up and understand that no one is going to help us out here. It’s time to put your fantasies aside or else we’re going to end up getting killed all because of your suggestion.”

“And yours is any better? Walking around aimlessly until we may or may not find something.” You grit your teeth. “Sure, that’s a much better idea.”

“For a girl whose life was saved by me on multiple occasions, you sure love to act like an ungrateful child.” Yoongi scoffs. “What would your brother think?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?!” You bellow. “He’s fucking gone, just like everyone else. But you wouldn’t care because all you care is about you and your large fucking ego.”

Your shout echos through the trees, sending birds flying out of their nests in fear. Yoongi stops in his tracks and stares back at you, ignoring your tear-filled eyes and quivering bottom lip. It’s not the first time you’ve snapped on him for being a complete dickhead, but this is the first time since you joined his one-man survival group that you’ve mentioned anything about your brother and your family.

He knows how much your family meant to you and how devastated you were when they were slowly picked off one by one, your brother being the last one to go. It had been the week before Yoongi found you with your leg caught in a barbed wire fence after you were running away from a horde that ambushed you on your way to your friend’s house in hopes that they were still alive. He never asked about what happened to him, and you never mentioned why you were alone.

The two of you aren’t friends, and you both know better than to act like you are.

“Let’s just go.” Yoongi sighs in defeat.

He starts walking away, gripping onto the straps of his backpack with one hand with the other hovering over the gun tucked away in his jeans. He shrugs off the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, marking it off as nerves from yesterday. It isn’t until a few minutes later when he notices the lack of footsteps behind him that he turns around and is greeted with an empty stretch of road.

“Y/N?” His voice is barely a whisper, but he feels as though he’s shouting out to the sky.

“Y/N, I’m not kidding, where the fuck are you?” Yoongi calls out again, a nervous stutter threatening to build up in his throat.

He’s met with silence. Fury builds up inside of him as he dashes down the road with his gun clutched tightly in his right hand. Sure, you could say dumb stuff and do something incredibly stupid from time to time, but you weren’t that idiotic to go off by yourself but nothing but a flimsy pocket knife and two days’ worth of food.

Weren’t you?

Running off by yourself with practically nothing to protect yourself with isn’t the smartest idea, but here you are, wandering down a dirt road with no map or guide to show the way to civilization - well, anything resembling civilization.

The rageful annoyance that coursed through your body half an hour ago has dissipated into a dull ache in the center of your chest - a constant reminder of the pain that brought you to where you are today. You were quick to think that Yoongi was a complete asshole for mentioning your brother like that, but in the end, you know that he was right.

What would your brother think?

“You know, you could say hi to him every once and a while when he comes over.” You ignore the voice at the entrance of your bedroom as you continue pouring over your homework. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice for a millisecond.”

“He annoys me.”

“You’ve only talked to him once.”

“And that was enough for me.”

Your brother sighs. You expect him to close your door and leave you be like all the other times he came to confront you about Yoongi, but you’re unpleasantly surprised when he pulls up the chair from your computer desk and plops down in front of you without a care in the world.

“Listen to me, Yoongi’s not a bad guy once you get to know him. I know he teases you a lot, but he only does that to his friends or people he likes.”

“We’re not friends.” You frown.

“Well then, maybe he likes you.”

“Ugh, gross!”

Your brother cackles at the disgusted grimace that contorts your face. “Just give it a couple years, and you won’t mind.”

You’ve never taken your brother’s words to heart. Even if they were as close as they were, you hardly believe that someone like Min Yoongi would ever like you platonically or romantically. As an angsty teen, you liked to think that Yoongi was a robot created by the government to learn how to act like a human, therefore magically explaining his lack of emotion and general unpleasantness around you.

Whenever you would go off on your daily Yoongi rants, your brother would pinch you on your shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

“Trust me, Yoongi is anything but. You’ll see.”

Oh, you’d definitely like to see that.

It’s been an hour, and you’ve gotten nowhere. There’s an urge to turn back and hope that you end up meeting Yoongi halfway, but you’ve been making too many U-turns and criss-crosses that you aren’t too sure that you’re on the same road anymore.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” You mutter up to the sky, hoping that somewhere, your brother is watching and is nice enough to lead you back on your path.

In reality, he’s probably shaking his head along with your parents and praying that you don’t make another dumb decision that ends up with you joining him in the afterlife.

“Yoongi?” You whisper sharply, silently hoping that the quiet wind carries your voice to him. A long shot, but still worth a try. “Yoongi, are you there?”

Snap.

You twist your head in the direction of the noise. “Yoongi?”

No response. Your heart starts to race out of control, and you curse yourself as you slowly begin to hyperventilate.

Breathe, stupid bitch!

Another twig breaks in the distance. You begin shuffling backwards, holding back the urge to simultaneously shit, piss, and throw up everywhere. This is your karma, isn’t it? Maybe Yoongi isn’t a robot at all but is, in fact, a powerful wizard who’s cursed you to die a most painful death.

Well, you’re certainly a second away from finding out the truth.

Once you hear a louder crunch of leaves and branches, you book it, not caring if your footsteps make an even louder noise and attracts every bloodthirsty creature in the woods to come after you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, why did I do this?” You try to catch your breath while running for your life, but you’ve never been great at multitasking.

Sure enough, the low groaning and bone-numbing shrieks behind you tell you everything you need to know - you’re going to die today, and it’s completely your fault.

Tears stream down in thick rivulets as you continue running, ignoring the sharp stinging pain that shoots through your bad leg. It wobbles with every step you take, and you just know that you’re about to call it and give yourself up once your leg gives out.

But once you start dropping to the floor, you’re surprised that there are arms to catch you before you could hit the asphalt.

For once in your life, you’ve never been so happy to see Min Yoongi’s face, even if it’s full of fiery anger.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Yoongi practically screams. “You’re lucky you’re not fucking dead! What are you-”

Yoongi yelps when you pull him into a tight embrace. You’re sobbing loudly, snot and spit dripping down your face like nobody’s business. Yoongi gulps awkwardly, wrapping his stiff arms around your waist before retracting quickly and pushing you away. He’s quick to motion to your snotty face in disgust.

“Wipe your face, and let’s go!” Yoongi pulls you up by the crook of your elbow. “I’m trying not to die today. How about you?”

Instead of sprinting down the road, Yoongi cuts across into the woods with you in tow, cringing as his feet stomp noisily on the ground below. You’re definitely going to attract more undead, but you no longer feel a wave of anxiety anymore.

Instead, you just feel overwhelming relief as Yoongi grabs your hand until you’re neck and neck with him.

“Come on, I saw a building up ahead.” Yoongi grunts breathily.

There’s no time to argue. You simply follow Yoongi’s lead and hold onto your pocket knife for dear life. All you could focus on are the sounds of your heart thumping closer to a heart attack and the rushing blood in your ears, but the jarring sound of a zombie mob becomes even more deafening.

“Up here!” You cry when you notice the white stone building ahead, a door just within your reach.

Yoongi grabs the door knob with both hands and pulls with all his might. Your heart stops for a second when it doesn’t budge, but one more yank and the door’s groaning open.

“In, in!” Yoongi all but shoves you forward, promptly slamming the door shut and bolting it shut.

For extra measure, the two of you shove a nearby shelf in front of the door. You pray that it won’t end up biting you in the ass later in case you need to make a quick escape, but the sight before you vanishes the thought immediately.

“Oh. My. God.”

First, it’s a disbelieved chuckle. Then, it’s a noticeable giggle. After that, it’s full-on cackling until your sides hurt and your eyes burn with tears.

Out of all the places you and Yoongi could wander into by mistake, you manage to hole yourself up in a supermarket. Semi-trashed and looted, but a supermarket all the same.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” You wheeze, leaning forward with your hands on your knees as you try and catch your breath. “You practically brought us to the zombie apocalypse promise land.”

Yoongi chuckles. It’s weird to see another emotion other than annoyance or disgust (emotions thanks to yours truly), but you don’t mind it.

Going by the warmth spreading through your veins and the unconscious smile that ticks up your lip, you certainly don’t mind it.

“Check the doors and windows.” Yoongi suggest, pointing to one direction of the store. “You start there, I’ll be over here. Let me know if you find anything.”

After a quick search to make sure there were no walking carcasses hanging around the store waiting for a bite of your flesh, you meet back in the middle.

“We can practically live here forever.” You exclaim, your voice carrying across the floor. “This is literally the dream life, and we’re living it.”

“Do you really want to spend the rest of your days stuck in a grocery store with me?” Yoongi asks sardonically.

You shrug. “I guess I wouldn’t mind.”

It’s quiet. You’re still surveying the store with your eyes, gaping at the rows of foods and alcohol practically whispering your name. You fail to register Yoongi’s expression - blown out pupils, hanging jaw, flushed red cheeks.

“I’ll be right back.” You singsong as you disappear into one of the aisles.

Yoongi has time to shake himself back into reality when you finally come back with a shopping cart filled with cereal, canned soups, and bottles upon bottles of alcohol.

“I’ve always wanted Captain Crunch with vodka in the morning.” Yoongi jokes, picking up the clear bottle of Grey Goose. “Brings back good ol’ college memories.”

“Nothing screams a balanced breakfast diet like sugary cereal past its expiration date and alcoholic potato water.” You grin teasingly.

Yoongi goes to retort, but he closes his mouth as he watches you crack open a bottle and chug it down like it’s water. He laughs to himself - he should probably tell you that it’s a better idea to drink water and eat something first before drowning yourself in alcohol.

To each their own.

“Want some?” You hiccup as you break free for a breather. “Tastes like rubbing alcohol and death.”

“Two of my favorite things.” Yoongi accepts the bottle, taking a moderate sip unlike your atrocious glugging.

It’s going to be an interesting night.

Yoongi’s dealt with prepubescent you, he’s dealt with emo high schooler you who was obsessed with spoken word poetry and had a goth boyfriend for one semester of your sophomore year. Hell, he’s even dealt with college freshman you who practically lived, breathed, and slept homework even during holiday breaks.

But Yoongi can’t say that he’s had to deal with drunk, adult baby you. Well, until now.

“I still don’t know where he went though, he just went off and vanished.” You slur, back pressed against the cold tile of the supermarket wall and butt seated on the hard linoleum floor. “Mr. Fluffers...you are missed.”

Yoongi giggles drunkenly. For the past hour, you’ve been ranting about your childhood pet, Mr. Fluffers, and the utterly tragic story of how he ran away when you were seven years old. Since then, you’ve never had another pet, still traumatized by the sudden disappearance of your beloved.

Yoongi laughs because he’s heard this story from your brother. It turns out that your father accidentally left the cage open when he was cleaning it out and forgot to close it again for the night. When he found the next morning, he decided that the best way to cover up his tracks was to give you a complete bullshit story about Mr. Fluffers returning home to his wife and kids in their home in the forest.

“We lived in the city, where the fuck was Mr. Fluffers gonna go?” You grumble, taking another swig of the half empty vodka bottle.

“Well, he must be in a better place now.” Yoongi offers.

“Define better place.” You shake your head. “Everywhere’s a piece of shit. Name me one good thing left in this world, I dare you.”

Yoongi hums to himself, putting on a thoughtful look while even stroking an invisible moustache. You roll your eyes playfully until he finally gives you his answer.

“You.”

You have the urge to smack him on the knee and shout out “Good one, you dick.” The look on his face stops you before you reach over and hit his leg. Never in your life have you seen Yoongi’s eyes glisten before, features softened and wilted like a beautiful dying flower.

“You’re ridiculous.” You hiccup a laugh. You go to grab the vodka bottle from his hand, but his reflexes are still faster than yours.

“I’m serious.” Yoongi replies gently, contrasting his hardened expression. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Uh, because you’re you?” Yoongi frowns. You sigh to yourself. “Yoongi, for most of my adolescent and adult lives, you’ve done nothing but taunt me and be mean to me. You just tolerated me because you were friends with my brother, but...that’s it. That’s all I am to you.”

“That’s not true.” His cheeks twitch before settling into another serious look. “Fuck, that’s beyond the truth.”

“Then, what is the truth?”

You wait patiently as Yoongi drags a hand through his hair, entangling his fingers in the messy tufts. He looks extremely conflicted which prompts to open your mouth to tell him that it’s okay, but he beats you to the punch.

“I’ve never hated you, not even once. I mean, how could I? You’re so fucking perfect in every way, shape, and form. You’re smart, kind, beautiful, and funny. God, the amount of times I had to pull myself together whenever you walked in the room. Your brother probably thought I was constipated every time I came to visit.”

You want to laugh with him, but it’s as if the muscles in your face have been glued together. All you can do is sit back and listen in awe as Yoongi goes into a drunken ramble.

“Your brother could already sense that I liked you, but he didn’t say anything. Probably because he wanted me to look like a fool most of the time. I did that a lot, haven’t I?” Yoongi glances down at the tops of his knees, simply interested in the spare thread dangling from the rip in his jeans. “I don’t expect you to believe me or even like me back. Hell, you’re better off that way. It’s just that I l-”

Yoongi’s speech is interrupted when you press your lips against his. Your lips are both chapped, and you both taste of vodka and stale breakfast cereals, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your hand draws closer to Yoongi, slowly making its way up the firm plane of his chest to the side of his face. He draws you closer with his hands on your waist, and you’re too out of your mind to pull back and think clearly.

All you know is that you wanted this. You wanted him.

“You feel so nice.” Yoongi whispers, his breath caressing against your lips before he nudges them apart with his. You let out a whimper when the tip of his tongue brushes against yours.

“God, why am I such an idiot?” Yoongi moves to lightly kiss against the column of your throat, stopping to lick the skin and suckle a mark across the surface. “All this time, I could have had you in my arms like this.”

Pulling back to stare back into your equally fucked-out expression, he seems to hold you tighter.

“All this time, I could have been fucking your tight, little pussy instead of dreaming about it.”

Yoongi smirks when you hold back an obvious whimper, squeezing your thighs together as your heated center throbs in want. His hands smooth down the back of your shirt and to your hips until they reach your back of your jeans. You whine in surprise when they round back to land two firm smacks to your bottom.

“Does my baby girl like that?” Yoongi teases lowly. “She’s so desperate to have me touch her, but little baby’s too shy to admit it.”

You have the urge to shove your hands in your face and shield yourself away, but Yoongi brings you closer to his chest, still grasping the globes of your ass in a firm grip.

“What do you want me to do, hm?” Yoongi whispers, peppering tiny kisses on your face. A soft gesture for such obscene intentions. “I really want to be inside you, but I kinda want to taste you first. What do you think?”

You barely have the courage to answer him. His words bring a violent flush to your face, and you begin stammering your words. Yoongi saves you by placing his index to your wobbly lips.

“Suck.”

You spoke too soon.

You pout against his fingertip, but the determined look on his face tells you that he isn’t fucking around - at least not yet. True to his request, you draw the finger into your mouth, enclosing the digit in the wet heat of your mouth. You begin a back-and-forth movement, unable to keep your eyes on Yoongi’s as you practically fuck your mouth on his hand.

“O-Oh, fuck, that’s sexy.” Yoongi groans, the sensation of your mouth on his skin building up a different kind of heat in his body. He knows that if you keep this up, he’ll end up coming in his pants instead of inside you.

“Sit back, baby.” Yoongi plucks his finger out of your mouth.

Ignoring your cute face when he pulls away from you, he drags you closer once you lay flat on the floor. You’d normally feel grossed out, but you’re too far gone to care about where Yoongi had you. All you know is that you needed him inside you right now.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yoongi holds back his juvenile excitement as he tugs your pants down along with your panties. He’s greeted by a small tuft of curly hair and sleek wetness - the vision of complete perfection. “God, you’re so fucking wet, I need to taste you right now.”

You barely have enough time to prepare yourself when Yoongi pushes your thighs apart and dives in, tongue licking up your dripping folds and mouth forming a tight suction around your swollen clit. It’s hard not to rock against his face and grind your slit against his tongue, but once he notices your growing dilemma, he drapes his arm across your front and holds you firmly to the ground. Endless streams of moans and whimpers leave your mouth as Yoongi continues to suck, indulging in your sweet wetness.

“I-I’m so c-close.” You bite your lip, a hand trailing down to grip onto his hair. “P-Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” Yoongi tugs on your clit for a bit before replacing it with his thumb, rubbing half-circles around the nub. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. You have to speak louder if you want to get what you want.”

“I-I want you inside me. I-I want your fucking cock now.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Yoongi chuckles devilishly.

If you were in your right mind, you’d have no problem replying with a snarky comment. Right now, your brain feels as though it’s filled with millions of fuzzies, sending your ears ringing as you fall closer into your approaching climax.

“P-Please, baby, hurry.” You surprise both yourself and Yoongi by flipping onto your stomach and pushing your ass up against his lap, drenching the top of his pants with the dribbling wetness of your cunt.

Without wasting anymore time, Yoongi unzips his pants and use the come dripping down your thighs to sleek up his length. Lining himself up, he finally thrusts inside, moving slowly as inch by inch is engulfed by your unbelievably tight pussy.

“O-Oh shit.” Yoongi curses when he finally bottoms out. “Baby, you okay?”

You hold back a sob as Yoongi’s hand tenderly caresses the side of your face. The stretch has been bearable, but having him draped over your back with your cunt wrapped snugly around him is teetering on too much too quickly.

“It’s okay, baby.” Yoongi kisses your cheek - a small but sweet act to comfort your nerves. “God, you feel so good around me.”

You take a few moments to get yourself used to the overwhelming sensation, circling your hips now and then to adjust to his length but stopping every few seconds whenever Yoongi whines in your ear about you being a “fucking tease”.

“You can move.” You whisper almost inaudibly, but Yoongi hears you loud and clear. You go to whisper something else into his ear, but you’re cut off by a loud moan when he pulls out only to slam back, hitting your sweet spot with ease.

“F-Fuck, I love this tight fucking pussy.” Yoongi hisses when you clench down every so often between his rough thrusts. “God, you’re so wet for me. You gonna come for me, princess?”

You simply nod, not having the energy to whimper your answer. You brace yourself on your elbows, your back arched to Yoongi’s liking and the knot in your stomach ready to snap at any moment.

“C-Come…”

“What’s that, baby?” Yoongi breathes.

“C-Come inside…”

You both fall apart together, him relishing in the spasming of your pussy on his cock and you enjoying the warm come filling you up as he continues thrusting slowly until he’s too tired and sensitive to keep up the pace.

“You did so well, baby.” Yoongi sighs as he kisses you again.

He doesn’t stop kissing you until you fall asleep on top of the makeshift sleeping bags on the floor, covered in a mix of your come and sweat.

“Come on, we have to go.”

You blink slowly as the light of the sun peers through an open crack of the blinds. Looking down, you notice that you’re covered in a thin throw blanket that Yoongi must have found in one of the aisles. You smile to yourself, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

“Yoongi, I-”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I said get dressed and hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Just like that, your rose-tinted world is shattered.

“W-What?” You’re afraid that if you raise your voice higher, you’ll end up bursting into tears. “Yoongi…”

“I’ll go check around again while you change. Try to be fast, we don’t want to get caught up in another swarm again.”

It’s like you’re talking to a complete stranger. The Min Yoongi you talked with last time and wrapped your arms around as he held you when you sleep is not this man.

No, this man is worse. You’re back to square one, back to silence and obligatory distance.

Robotically, you head into the bathroom and dress yourself in the clothes you found in the $5 section of the supermarket, shedding a few tears as you clean out the remaining come from your body and wipe away any trace of the Yoongi from last night. Your head throbs from your hangover, but nothing compares to the throbbing pain choking you from the inside out.

“Good, you’re finished.” Yoongi nods when he notices you return from the bathroom. He doesn’t even blink when you shove past him to grab your backpack from the ground. “I snagged a couple walkies so we can use that in case we lose each other- What’s so funny?”

Yoongi frowns as he notices you start to laugh.

“Nothing.” You sigh, shaking your head. “Let’s just get out here already.”

You don’t look down, especially when you pass your makeshift sleeping quarters. You don’t need anymore reminders of your mistake, and you know Yoongi doesn’t either.

You continue forward, heart breaking with each step. If only you knew that with every step you take away from him, the more Yoongi wishes to pull you back to him.

“A few months after everything went to shit, I heard from someone that there is supposedly a sanctuary in the next town over. Apparently, some guy and his family just knew something was up and decided to use their house as a welcome center.” Yoongi scoffs. “Don’t know if that makes them stupid or what.”

“Putting blind faith into someone else, hoping that they weren’t like everyone else.” You blurt out, making Yoongi turn his head in surprise at your harsh tone. “I wonder what that feels like.”

“Y/N…” Yoongi starts softly, but you have had enough.

“You’re not obligated to treat me as your friend anymore, Min.” You drone. “Hell, you’re free to leave and do whatever you please. Didn’t stop you when you were in college, shouldn’t stop you now!”

Yoongi frowns. “Y/N, if you would just listen-”

“No!” You spin on your heel. “The last time I did that, I actually thought you were someone else! I thought for once, you didn’t think of just yourself and that for a split second, you actually liked me for me and not because I’m the last remnant of your friendship with my dead brother.”

“No! You-”

“Whatever, I’ve had enough.” You face your back to him. “Let’s just find a place to rest for tonight, okay?”

Yoongi says nothing. With a heavy heart and downturned stare, Yoongi walks beside you in a mechanical fashion. His hand is a mere two inches away, and he wishes to grab your hand, pull you to his chest, and kiss the pain away.

Instead, he shoves his hand inside his coat pocket and avoids eye contact with you, preferring to keep quiet and drown in his thoughts from the night before.

The journey is long and seemingly fruitless, but Yoongi finally spots a motel across the way. How ironic, you think to yourself. Now, you’re truly back at the beginning.

“Let’s settle for the night and regroup tomorrow.” Yoongi opens the door, motioning for you to walk in before him. You ignore him completely as you push through, dropping your bag on the floor and rummaging through for an extra set of clothes and your toothbrush.

“You can take the bed if you want.” Yoongi adds awkwardly. “I know your leg’s been hurting for a whil-”

“I’m fine.” You send back sharply. “You take it, I’ll take the floor.”

“No.” Yoongi shakes his head. “You should-”

“No offense, but who sleeps where is the least of my concerns.” You roll your eyes.

Yoongi wants to argue some more, expertly convince you that you’re more deserving of the bed and its semi-comfortable mattress when it happens.

You should have checked the perimeter before you came in, but your frustration with the man a few feet away occupied the entirety of your thoughts for the entire journey. A loud raspy scream escapes your throat as it launches itself at you, knocking you to the floor and latching its teeth around your arm of your jacket.

“Y/N!”

You nearly call it quits. In a bright flash of light, you nearly decide that it’s it for you, that your time on Earth had been just as limited as two-thirds of the population who fell to the same fate. Grimy blood and dirt coat your face and neck as the creature keeps gnawing away at the fabric of your jacket. You fight to knock it off your body, but he had been a heavy one in his previous life. Despite decomposing at an alarming rate, it’s still carried a portion of his human strength with it.

Whimpering as its bony knee digs into the tender scar on your leg, you attempt to whack against its head to knock it to the side, but you’re beaten to it when a hand darts forward to drive a long blade into its temple. Gushes of blood drip from its skull and onto your face, but you’re still simultaneously relieved when it drops dead - officially dead.

“Ugh, gross.” You wipe the blood off your cheeks with your clean sleeve. “Can this day get any worse?”

It’s when you try to shuffle to your feet that you hear it.

First, it’s a whimper. Then, it’s a choked cry. Then, Yoongi’s crashing into your side and burying his face in your neck, sobs wracking his entire body like an unending earthquake.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Yoongi wails, globs of tears soaking through the collar of your t-shirt. “I love you, please don’t leave me. P-Please!”

You’re shocked into silence. Never in your ten years of knowing Min Yoongi did you ever see him break down into...this. But his tear-smeared face is not what shocks you the most.

“I love you, please don’t leave me.”

“Yoongi…” You try to push him back to look him in the eye, but he refuses to budge.

“I-I know I don’t have much time left, b-but I needed t-to tell you.” Yoongi sniffles, his nose rubbing up against the side of your neck and his arms still in a vice-like hold around your waist. “I c-can’t lose you. Not you, dammit.”

Lose you? Wait…

“Yoongi...look at me.” Yoongi wants to shake his head like a child, but he listens. You would laugh at his face - drenched with tears, dried blood, and snot - but you know it’s not the time or place.

“Honey, what do you mean I don’t have time left?” You ask, a little amused but still full of concern at the sight of his distress.

Yoongi hiccups. “You’re...going to d-die.” His face contorts as though he’s going to break down into more tears,but you shush him.

“Yoongi,” You shake your head with a chuckle. “I’m not dying.”

He furrows his brow. “W-What?”

You lift your arm, showing him the aftermath of the zombie’s bite mark. His face falls even harder at the sight of the blood and torn material.

“Look? It didn’t go through.” You wiggle the arm in front of his face. “I’m fine.”

Yoongi’s face is blank for a moment, and you worry that he’s going to go back to his old self - the same one who left you naked and heartbroken on the floor while he packed his things like nothing even happened.

He doesn’t. Instead, his face crumples again, and he lets out another loud sob.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Yoongi kisses you, uncaring if he gets your whole face wet with his tears. “God, I love you so much. You scared me so much when you went missing. Fuck, I don’t want to lose you again.”

You smile. “You won’t, I promise.”

There are many reasons why you love Min Yoongi, but there are three that you love the most.

First of all, Min Yoongi is a know-it-all asshole. One night when you were scouring through another grocery store on a food run, you argued with him that the food item you had in your hand wasn’t expired but simply “not in its prime” and therefore semi-okay to eat. He was adamant about it being spoiled, but he let you win and watched you take one bite with a teasing grin. Needless to say, he didn’t enjoy holding your hair back while you vomited your guts out of the side of a deserted convenience store.

Secondly, he’s the pickiest man to ever roam the planet.

“Ugh, there are too many options!” He exclaims from his side of the store.

“Just pick one already!” You answer back, not knowing what he’s looking at.

“But it has to be perfect.” You can hear the pout in his voice. “Otherwise, we can’t leave yet.”

“Oh my god, what are you even-” Your voice dies when you finally drag your tired body to his location and realize what he was looking at.

“I told you it has to be perfect.” Yoongi gazes at you, his eyes softened and full of love.

Thankfully, you brought yourself over to him on your own. After all, he needed your help measuring your ring size.

Last but not least, you used to think that Yoongi cared for no one but himself, but now you know that it’s not true at all.

When you were presenting for your AP Biology class, he made sure to quiz you on all your facts and correct you on the little errors you made here and there. Sure, you cried your eyes out that night and may have looked up “different curses to use on your enemies” on Google, but at least you got a 100 on the essay. When he would take a million years testing out the “comfort levels” of the motel mattresses, he was really surveying the perimeter and making sure that whatever creature’s lurking in the shadows would be attracted to his noise and not you.

That, and Min Yoongi had a thing about comfy mattresses.

You used to think that you were truly alone in the world, but as you lay here curled up next to the love of your life in a shitty motel bed with no AC and a cheap $25 wedding band on your finger, being the last two people on Earth doesn’t seem so bad after all.

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