#[ i have no idea what happened here nor what this is on any level ]
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Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2
Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)
Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.
Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3
“Am I that hopeless?”
“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“
You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.
However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.
“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“
“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”
“I don’t understand-“
“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.
That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.
Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”
“I’m not thanking you-“
Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room. He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.
The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.
Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.
Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.
“Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector.
Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.
You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.
“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”
You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-
Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler.
The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.
Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.
Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.
Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.
And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.
“Don’t drink that!”
Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.
Oh heavens, no.
He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!
Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.
“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.
“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.
“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”
Little one???
Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”
Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”
Was that…an invitation?!
You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”
“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.
“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”
He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.
This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.
You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.
“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“
His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”
Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“
He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”
“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“
“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”
Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!
“I-“
“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“
“But hyung, you already have one-“
“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.
“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.
“Where are you going!”
“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”
Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”
You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.
“So, they drank it?”
“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”
You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”
“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”
“Well, honey, how did they act?”
“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”
She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“
“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”
“What do you mean?!”
“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“
You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.
Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).
You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.
You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.
Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!
You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.
Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!
Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.
Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.
V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.
Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.
At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?
You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.
WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!
Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.
Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?
And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.
You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.
A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him
“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.
You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!
“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”
Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”
“You’re so…honest.”
He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!
The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.
“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”
You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.
“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”
What pain?!
Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.
“Daepyonim Kim-“
“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.
You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.
You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.
For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?
It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.
“Good morning, beautiful!”
“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.
“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”
You nodded, “He did…”
He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.
“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.
God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.
“He did what?!”
He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.
“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”
Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.
Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.
You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.
You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.
Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.
“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.
You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.
“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“
“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”
He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”
“What memo?”
He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.
“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“
You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!
You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.
He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.
So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.
He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?
Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.
“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”
You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”
He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”
“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”
“You do?”
He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”
It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!
You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.
The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.
He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.
“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”
“W-why did you cook all these?”
He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”
“You don’t have to do that-“
“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.
How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.
You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”
It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…
---
If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.
The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!
You were just a girl.
And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.
Hi, my little one,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.
Best regards,
CEO Min Yoongi
He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.
He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.
And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.
“Daepyonim Min-“
He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”
Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.
“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”
He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.
“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”
“Excuse me?”
And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."
At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.
Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.
The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.
The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.
“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.
“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.
You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.
A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”
You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.
But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.
The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.
He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”
You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”
He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.
“I shipped them off to Antartica.”
“You what?!”
“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”
My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.
On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.
It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.
Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?
There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.
The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.
The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.
‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’
You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.
“S-sir, are you okay?”
His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.
‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’
“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.
You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.
“Don’t leave me.”
‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’
You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.
“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”
You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.
“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“
“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.
“Y-you know…”
He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”
“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“
The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”
“H-how?”
“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”
Part 2
#bts fic#yandere bts#bts yandere#min yoongi fic#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi x reader#yandere min yoongi#kim seokjin fic#ot7 x reader#kim seokjin x you#kim namjon fic#jung hoseok fic#kim taehyung fic#park jimin fic#jeon jungkook fic#kim seokjin x reader#bts x reader#park jimin x you#kim taehyung x you#jeon jungkook x you#bts x you#jeon jungkook x reader#kim taehyug x reader#park jimin x reader
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oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)
Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries.
or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.
― part one here!
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner.
minors do not interact.
WORDCOUNT― 15.1k
PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader | chan x afab reader
CONTENT― angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s.
SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him
WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.
NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex
~
You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.
The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further.
After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do.
Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more.
Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever.
God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time.
You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times
Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend!
You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around
Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it?
Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over.
The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most.
Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose.
You: alright, alright. what should i wear?
Chan: can you wear that one skirt
You: NO
~
Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.
You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time.
That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.
Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.
For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well.
Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even.
He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself.
The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.
Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like.
As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend.
Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind.
The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?
Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so.
Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.
When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son.
He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.
“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”
You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features.
“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”
Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.
“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space.
On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night.
The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl.
You are stupid to have come here so soon.
Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness.
“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”
He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head,
“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan.
You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could.
“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”
Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him.
When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost.
Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.
Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father?
After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.
There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be.
“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”
Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question.
“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze.
You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods.
“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”
Mingyu hums in response.
“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”
Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is.
“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”
Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod.
“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.
~
You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened.
He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom.
It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.
“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.”
You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here.
Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains.
The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.
You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you.
“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt.
“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”
You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”
A lie.
He chuckles at you with a nod.
“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable.
You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not.
“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.
“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use.
“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”
And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.
In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying.
You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him.
At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him.
You try not to hurt over it.
~
Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made.
Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend.
Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself.
You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity.
After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions.
Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.
The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly.
You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.
“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem.
Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.
For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house.
You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.
You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up.
You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you.
Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.
Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.
Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.
He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend.
Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place.
Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest?
You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably.
Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her.
There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.
She fucking smirks at you.
You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day.
It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet.
Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose.
And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages.
And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here.
Right now.
You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.
“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something.
“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl.
You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.
“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away.
You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend.
“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone.
“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!”
You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again.
“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.”
“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.”
You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.
“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”
Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.
“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again.
“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.
“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”
Only now are you actually shocked by his response.
All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing.
But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.
“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.”
And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave.
~
It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up.
You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp.
Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk?
You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him.
Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out.
Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too.
And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.
And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–
Well.
Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places?
It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker.
There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why.
Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.
Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat.
There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw.
“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern.
To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over.
“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel.
No, you won’t cry over this.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now.
“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”
Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother?
“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?”
“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”
“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”
“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will.
Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.
Mingyu really did move on.
He really did let you cut it off.
There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.
“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here.
Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off.
Still, Chan did fuck up.
What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this?
“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.”
Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it?
Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself.
Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole.
You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him.
“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.”
He looks at you, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, that would be best.”
Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid.
And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion.
Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it’s only human to want to comfort someone.
But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously.
He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls.
Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this.
And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you.
You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts.
Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head.
Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you.
That’s his son and you’re just…a girl.
To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again?
So fucking stupid.
And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds.
You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him.
It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead.
Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely.
You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back.
You can’t help it.
The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration.
You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up.
That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again.
That this isn’t exactly what you want.
“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago.
He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though?
It almost did.
“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues.
The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him.
It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.
You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release.
“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer.
You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp.
You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all?
At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all.
If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious.
Arguably, it’s always been obvious.
And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together.
You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together.
You’re not alone in this.
Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are.
Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end.
Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this.
But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son.
Where is that respect now?
Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny?
He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug.
God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting.
“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”
And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you.
It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could.
Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait.
When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips.
To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room.
A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be.
And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it.
You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.
Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling.
You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t.
You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now.
“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.”
No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much.
As if he truly did miss you.
And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now.
It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago.
Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go.
“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.
His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now.
The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son.
Like a fucking dream.
And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring.
“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”
And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle.
“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”
And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…
“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…”
He’s not tasting, he’s devouring.
And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again.
It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later.
His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief.
His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release.
But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again.
And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way.
If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough.
It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.
Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.
So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.
He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment.
And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him.
Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.
Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you.
“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.”
That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud.
And he fucking should feel proud.
“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.”
He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you.
“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?”
You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now.
“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.
“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”
Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down.
“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.”
And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit.
“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer.
Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch.
It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before.
He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips.
Slowly at first. Just feeling you again.
His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in.
“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”
The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair.
Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand.
“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”
And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment.
He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder.
Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts.
Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough.
He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later.
As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck.
His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling.
He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.
You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care.
People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.
Never have you felt so wanted.
Never have you been so needed.
And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints.
You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him.
Forever more, nothing less.
“God,” He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”
His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.
“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts.
His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.
“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you.
“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.”
You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now.
“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.”
He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.
“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him.
His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him.
“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–”
You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm.
“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot.
After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him.
With your hand wrapped with his son’s.
Never again.
He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.
“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him.
The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off.
He really tries.
But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you.
“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–”
You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm.
All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch.
There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him.
It’s too late to go back now.
“You’re so–”
Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this?
Like he’s the whole world.
~
The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep.
You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong.
Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway?
And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.
That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust.
“You’re fucking joking.”
Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you.
You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed.
He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too.
What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away.
“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.
“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”
Chan rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.
Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs.
“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”
“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.
The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you.
“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.
Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you.
“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”
You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you.
“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question.
“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!”
“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”
“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!”
Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt?
Fuck that.
He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.
“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–”
“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?”
You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.
“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?” He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?”
“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”
Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now.
“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”
And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.
Oh god. This sucks.
“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization.
All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more.
“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door.
Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first.
But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently?
You’re both guilty.
You’re both disgusting.
And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.
Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air.
“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there.
Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street.
Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again.
Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.
Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need.
Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you.
It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart.
Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life.
Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself.
You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day.
And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath.
“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.”
You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head.
“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself.
But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.
“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.”
You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you.
You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment.
“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.”
Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders.
“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle.
“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.”
Why do you feel blamed for this?
“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.”
“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.
“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”
And with that, you’re left with no choice.
You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly.
There’s nothing left here for you.
~
Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there.
Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked.
In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either.
So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy.
Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too.
It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father.
In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily.
And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed.
Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you.
He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now.
He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts.
“Chan has a new girlfriend,” Mingyu found out just last month about that.
“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago.
And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him.
So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation.
If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on.
Without his son.
But not without you.
~
After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.
Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.
That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you.
Mingyu: can we talk?
Mingyu: just talking. nothing else.
The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold.
Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise.
And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it.
Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.
He missed you.
He always fucking misses you.
And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway.
Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself.
Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears.
He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again.
There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet.
Some would say it’s love.
Mingyu would say it’s you.
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The Candy Man- Part Two//W.W.
Warnings: smut, bathtub sex, curse words, some dirty talk, Willy wanting to fill reader with his cum
You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Your candy man, your Willy Wonka. You were convinced that his wonder-filled green eyes were burned into your memory forever. Your mind raced with images of his springy dark curls, his creamy pale skin, and his big cock that filled you to the brim. Your pussy ached just thinking about it.
It was a week to the day that he came knocking again. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you opened your door to reveal Willy: brown top hat, purple coat, and the sweetest of smiles.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” you uttered dreamily. Your prayers had been answered: Willy had come back.
“Hey, y/n. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Oh, you’re certainly not bothering me.”
Willy smiled kindly at you, then continued, “I have just been thinking about you, and I wonder if maybe what happened was wrong. I mean, it was absolutely wonderful, but you are a married woman. I would hate for your husband to find out-"
You cut him off as he was speaking, “Don’t worry, Willy. He will never know. It’s our little secret.”
“Oh,” he nodded, “alright then. That’s great. Um,” he looked down at his boots, shyly, “do you mind if I come in? There was something else I wanted to ask you.”
“Oh yes, of course, come in!” you said, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and you stepped aside, letting him by.
Willy walked over to the couch, rubbing his cold hands together. He did look rather cute with his rosy cheeks and slightly pink nose from the briskness outside. “You really should stay inside today, it’s too cold for you to be out there, y/n.” he said.
You blushed at his sweet words, “Should I get you some hot tea to warm you up? Or maybe some coffee?”
“No, no, I really don’t want to trouble you.” he insisted, “Come, sit with me if you would?”
You obliged him, and sat down next to him.
"Look, the real reason that I came by is to ask you if...it was okay, what I did? Was it any good?" Willy cleared his throat, apprehensively, "Did I do a good job?"
You laughed and touched his hand, "Yes, you did. I came twice, Willy. You were a natural. Better than my husband, might I add. And I've been having sex with him for years now. Well, not hardly at all lately, but that's neither here nor there." you shrugged.
"It's just that it was my first time, and I wanted to be sure that you enjoyed it as much as I did." his cheeks became a little bit flushed again, but it was not from the cold this time.
"I definitely did, Willy." you said sincerely, intertwining your fingers with his.
He softly squeezed your hand and nonchalantly looked over to the fireplace area. He shuddered ever so slightly, "That rug."
"Does it do things to you like it does to me? The memory?" you purred as you leaned in close to his ear with an idea creeping into your mind. You bit your lip.
"Yea-yeah, it does. I remember exactly what you looked like laying on that rug.” he turned to look in your eyes. The tension was palpable as your faces were just a few inches apart. “I can't get you out of my head, y/n."
"Ya know, I was about to draw a bath for myself before you came knocking, would you like to get in with me?"
"More than anything." Willy blurted out without hesitation.
.......
Willy had gotten into the hot water first, and you straddled his lap. With the both of you in the tub, the water level was dangerously high. But even if it were to spill onto the bathroom floor, you didn't notice. You were ravaging his lips, and he ran his wet hands all over your body, above and under the water.
Steam rose up from the water, creating a sweltering atmosphere. Your bodies were flushed.
You sank down onto his hard cock, and he rutted up into you. You cried out in pleasure as it slid all the way in. Your breasts bounced, tapping the surface of water and splashing in Willy's face. You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him sloppily as you fucked.
You did your best to grind your hips and keep up with him, but it was a losing battle. You were quickly brought to an orgasm with how fast he was thrusting up into you.
You whimpered as your body went limp, but Willy put his arms around you, and continued to pump his cock in and out. "Oh my God! Willy…Willy Wonka!" you cried, having never felt so good in all your life.
"I gonna come, y/n." he stuttered as his pace slowed and he thrusts became sloppy. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, and gave you a few more strokes as he kissed your face. He groaned in a huff, and you felt his cum filling your pussy.
You hugged him tightly, just needing to be close to him. Willy nuzzled into your neck and you rested your chin on his head. You put your hand on the back of his head, his curls at the nape of his neck were soaked as you pet them.
He looked up at you, his arms still linked around your body, "Kiss me?"
You leaned in and smashed your lips to his, "Mmm." you moaned happily against his mouth. You pulled away and he snuck in another peck to your swollen lips. You put your hands on either side of his chiseled cheekbones, "My angel candy man, dropped on my doorstep, so yummy and cute, with a cock made by the devil." you grinned, kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough. He was addictive like chocolate.
Willy chuckled, "I don't want to be done yet. Need to fill you with more of my cream.”
"Ugh, yes, treat me like one of your fine chocolates, Willy. Fill me, I want it.” you begged, moaning into his lips in another eager kiss.
"Turn over, please?" he asked, in between pecks, puppy dog eyes in full effect.
You couldn't deny his request. He was all you wanted, all you thought about and longed for, and you were going to take him as long as you wanted, as long as he was there. You nodded, swirling yourself in the water so your back was to him. Willy pushed you forward, careful to keep your head above water, and he pulled your hips up. With your ass to the surface and facing him, he held your waist, and slid his dripping wet cock inside you again.
"Ah!" you moaned as he thrusted fast, splashing the water and making it slosh out on the floor. The bathroom was filled with the loud splashing noises he created. You braced yourself on the bottom of the tub with your hands. The bath water sprinkled your face and hair with warm droplets as you took Willy's cock over and over.
After a moment, he let out a huff and you felt him release inside you once more. "Wheeew, sorry y/n. It may take more practice for me to last longer." his breathing was uneven as he spoke. He leaned over your back to leave a kiss on top of your head.
"No," you panted, "it's alright, it was amazing. You bring me more chocolate next week and we’ll practice some more.”
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich
#timothée chalamet#timmy chalamet#timothee x reader#timothée imagine#timothee chalamet smut#willy wonka x reader#willy wonka#wonka#wonka 2023#wonka movie
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fond regards
… OKAY? AND WHO IS SAYING THAT? WHAT THE FUCK?
I -- ACTUALLY, WHO THE HELL JUST TOLD ME THIS INFORMATION? I'M COMPLETELY ALONE RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU SEEING THAT?
ARE YOU WATCHING ME RIGHT NOW? BASK IN THIS OVERWHELMING PRESENCE OF NEGATIVE SPACE. THE ABSOLUTE ABSENCE OF AIR SURROUNDING ME.
THERE IS FUCK ALL. NOT A THING.
NOT EVEN SOME KIND OF SEATING APPARATUS FOR ME TO STAGE THIS INTERVENTION FOR YOU ON. I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO "RAW DOG" IT OR WHATEVER THE FUCK DAVE WOULD DESCRIBE THIS AS.
I -- I MEAN… FIRST OF ALL. SHIT.
THANKS, I GUESS… FOR DOING THAT?
LOVING ME.
WHATEVER YOUR VERSION OF "LOVE" IS.
OKAY, ENOUGH BULLSHIT.
… LOOK. I DON'T KNOW WHO IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS RECEIVING THIS MESSAGE. NOR THROUGH WHAT KIND OF TENTH-DIMENSIONAL IMAGE PROCESSING PLATFORM OR WHATEVER-THE-SHIT DEVICE IT IS BEING DELIVERED.
AND FRANKLY I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF A FUCKING WEEK ALREADY TO BE DEALING WITH SOME POSSIBLY HIGHER LEVEL OF BEING THAT JUST "LOVES ME".
I WAS FLYING WAY PAST THE THRESHOLD FOR BEING ABLE TO GIVE A FUCK ABOUT EXISTENTIALISM BY TUESDAY AT THE LATEST.
SO SURE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.
BUT IF YOU'RE STILL LISTENING TO ME RIGHT NOW: I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THIS IS WHAT YOU'D CALL A "PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP", ASSUMING YOUR UNIVERSE HAS ANY CAPACITY FOR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS BEYOND BASELESS QUOTE-ENQUOTE "LOVE" OF THOROUGHLY UNLOVABLE INDIVIDUALS. HONESTLY, NOT A GOOD SIGN THAT YOU CHOSE ME OF ALL PEOPLE TO HEAR THIS, BY THE WAY! THIS IS NOT A GREAT LOOK FOR YOUR SUPPOSED NTH-DIMENSIONAL GODLINESS!
THE FIRST THING A TROLL WOULD FEEL TOWARDS YOU RIGHT NOW IS PITY. I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT.
AND THERE'S NOTHING PARASOCIAL ABOUT THAT WHATSOEVER, BECAUSE APPARENTLY WE'RE NOW MUTUALLY AWARE OF EACH OTHER.
I LEARNED ALL ABOUT PARASOCIAL BULLSHIT FROM ROSE WHEN I WAS TELLING HER ABOUT TROLL WILL SMITH, SO I'VE BEGRUDGINGLY BECOME KIND OF A MASTER ON THE TOPIC.
WAIT, FUCK. DOES THAT MEAN YOU AREN'T BEING PARASOCIAL TOWARDS ME ANYMORE? HOW MUCH DO I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU BEFORE IT STARTS JUST BEING A REGULAR RELATIONSHIP? WHAT ARE THE BOUNDARIES HERE.
DON'T GET THE WRONG IDEA BY THE WAY. I DON'T HAVE A PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP WITH TROLL WILL SMITH OR ANYTHING. THAT WAS JUST A CLASSIC LALONDE "MASSIVE ILLOGICAL REACH IN CONJECTURE THAT IS COMPLETELY OFF-BASE AND GENERALLY ONLY DONE TO MAKE FUN OF YOU IN A SNIDE AND INSUFFERABLE WAY, INEVITABLY LEADING INTO AN HOUR-LONG DIATRIBE ON PSYCHOSOCIAL DEVELOPMENT DESIGNED SPECIFICALLY TO FUCK WITH YOU".
SHE JUST DOESN'T GET IT. HE'S COOL AS FUCK AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT! THE AMOUNT OF BULLSHIT THE DERSE HUMANS CAN EXTRAPOLATE FROM THE SIMPLEST OF SPONGEDEAD NOTIONS IS MIND-BOGGLING TO ME. IT'S AS INCREDIBLE AS IT IS MONUMENTALLY FUCKING AGGRAVATING.
ANYWAYS, SINCE WE'RE APPARENTLY IN THE REALM OF SHARING COMPLETELY UNFOUNDED SENTIMENTS WITH PEOPLE WHO POSSIBLY DON'T EVEN EXIST, I HAVE SOME ADVICE FOR YOU: IMPROVE YOUR STANDARDS. MAYBE LOOKING INSIDE YOUR OWN DIMENSION WOULD BE A GOOD START. AND I'D SUGGEST SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T WASTE HIS TIME TALKING TO THIN FUCKING AIR IN VAST WHITE EXPANSES LIKE THIS ONE.
JUST A THOUGHT.
JEGUS, TALKING TO NOTHING IS HARD. I FEEL LIKE I'M JUST SPUTTERING COMPLETE INANE GARBAGE IN CIRCLES LIKE A DELIRIOUS WRIGGLER HERE. IS THIS HOW DAVE FEELS ALL THE TIME? THIS IS HORRIBLE.
WHERE'S THE EXIT?
#karkat vantas#homestuck#was overcome with urge 2 do this as soon as i got this ask#idk why#comix#fond regards
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Hey I have an idea for "Get Off My Screen" what if Y/N starts talking to Vox less and less and he is so confused so he goes through her phone to try and figure it out and sees her Instagram announcing a new bf and Vox is soooo jealous but she basically ignores his protests and so life goes on as normal for them both until one day he gets nosy and checks her texts on her phone with her bf and finds nudes from her and then he gets annoyed and lectures her about it which leads to her getting angry and ignoring him but then a few weeks later he checks Y/N and the bf's chats again and sees him threatening her
On a completely unrelated note I luv this series and also definitely need a Vox of my own in my phone cause I can't write or spell for shit lol
You Could Do Better(With Me)
Protective!Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
WARNINGS: Mentions of Alcohol, Nudes, Blackmail, Manipulation
A/N: Okay this was actually pretty angsty, more on Vox's side because he's just dealing with a lot of emotional whiplash- most of which he doesn't really deal with well but he powers through it to be there for you. At this point in time he's kind of certain he likes you, but not that he loves you. Kind of like the: "Oh I'm really fond of this person, I want to make sure they're safe and happy." Without realizing the romantic implications nor how deep the level of attachment really is. So far, Reader's only kind of had a puppy-love crush on Vox but has blatantly disregarded it because well- Vox is fucking dead so what the hell are you supposed to do?? That and Vox constantly gets on Reader's nerves with his shenanigans so even if she gets the Cupid valentines filter when he cranks up the charisma- his stupid hijinks quickly do away with it and make him seem idiotic(cutely) again. The story also has a lot of emotional stuff so if you'd rather stick to the comedy feel free to skip this interlude and the one directly after it.
A/N: Either way, that's currently the pace these two are at- and this is a songfic! If you want to listen to the tune while reading- here it is! "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The story itself is slightly different from the prompt since I made it centered around how Vox perceived things were going. As always, I hope y'all have fun and enjoy! Happy Reading!
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Vox wanted to pretend everything was okay.
Walking through the halls of the Vee tower, he really wanted to play it off like nothing was bothering him.
And still, he found himself checking his phone for any updates or messages from you.
Day by day you were starting to slowly disappear from his routine.
He didn't notice it at first, how you were pulling away-
It was just the little things initially.
One word replies, emoji spam-
Vox figured you just weren't in the mood to listen or talk.
Did he do something that hurt you?
Up until the point that you both didn't really have any meaningful conversations anymore.
Which, as much as he tried to start anything proper-
It would always fall flat.
Were you still even trying?
He woke up one morning and followed his routine, shooting you a greeting before he started the day.
It just so happened that once he was finally able to check his phone to shoot you a wish goodnight-
You hadn't even replied to his morning message.
He was busy throughout the day, so he wasn't given the opportunity to worry about you.
But now, worry he did.
Vox quickly made his way towards his monitor room despite how late it was.
He went through your files, your pictures-
Wait.
Wait a goddamn minute.
Who the fuck was that?
He glitched slightly when he saw how that guy grinned in the picture.
It reminded him of his own, just so fucking fake.
Not to mention the air the person had around them.
They just exuded a great sense of showmanship and arrogance.
One Vox was all too familiar with.
That wasn't even the first picture you had with that person recently.
And the more the overlord looked, the more worked up he got.
He wasn't sure if it was anger, envy, irritation, or just a mix of everything under the sun.
Holding your waist, hugging you close, in some pictures your faces were so close together that you were almost kissing.
He was glitching in his chair from the emotional overload.
Who did this guy think he was to be able to treat you like that?!
Vox definitely punched a few screens from fury and jealousy.
Come the next day when he confronted you about it-
More like became a clear pain in the ass that you really couldn't ignore-
Making your computer practically unusable even-
Was when you revealed to him that you didn't mean to hide something like this.
You just simply forgot to say anything.
Vox didn't know if that was worse than if you tried to deceive him.
"Geez, so you have a boyfriend now?"
"Oh come on, you act like I'm not allowed to date. I'm a responsible adult Vox, not a kid."
The tech overlord only stared at the screen.
Was that really all you saw him as?
A digital guardian?
Just... someone who treated you like a kid?
He scoffed, he could count more times where he was the childish one.
That was stupid.
Besides that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.
What was this... horrible sinking feeling that was running through his systems?
It was like a weight that made him struggle breathing.
"Vox?"
"I'm still here. Can't believe you would forget to tell me something as important as this."
His claws dug into his armrests, he should've been happy you found yourself a partner.
If that partner just didn't remind him so much of himself.
"I'm sorry okay? I was really busy the last few days."
"The last few days? How long have you even been talking to this guy dollface?"
"Months? Probably? I've known him for a while now, he was the school crush when I was back in high school."
Vox wanted to convince you that this guy was bad news.
A walking red flag if you will.
He... should know.
Vox was at least aware of himself that much.
Still, he swallowed it all back and just replied to you again.
"I don't mind the fact you're off the market, hell- congratulations even! Just don't get into any sketchy shit. You know, anything that could be used against you as blackmail."
"Yeah yeah, I know what I'm doing Vox. Seriously, don't worry about it!"
You simply brushed off his worry, typical.
That just made the suffocating feeling even worse.
He didn't even know where it came from, or why.
"Oh yeah! I've got a boyfriend now!"
Those words replayed in his head like a bullet to the skull.
The day hadn't even started.
And Vox already wished it was over.
This just continued for a while, your presence in his schedule became negligible and Vox was falling back into his old vices.
He became snappy, irritable, just downright intolerable to be around.
The employees were feeling it, the Vees were collateral-
Not even Valentino could placate Vox's current horrid state.
It's been a week.
Vox stopped bothering to message you in the morning.
But he didn't stop checking if you would message him even once or twice.
It was pathetic.
And another.
Vox broke more than a dozen phones from just throwing them around.
He drank himself to sleep every night.
Valentino and Velvette were getting tired of having to dump his wasted ass on his bed every time.
And another.
Vox holed himself up in his monitor room whenever he wasn't needed.
No one could get him to come out.
Not even for food or water.
If he needed anything he would get it himself.
It was a long day of broadcasts and meetings, another monotonous cycle in his fast-paced life.
Vox intended to just drink until he passed out again, but he somehow found himself drunkenly stumbling through the halls of the Vee Tower into his monitor room.
He honestly didn't even know what he was doing this time.
The overlord fought to keep his own head up as he collapsed in his chair.
He glanced over to the side your computer's screen was connected to and let out a shaky sigh.
God, he fucking missed you.
Against his better judgement, Vox connected himself to your devices again.
He went straight to your playlist and just pressed start.
Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor~
Vox spun around in his chair, letting the music ebb and flow into his brain.
He took another swig from the bottle of alcohol in his other hand, squinting at the screens.
Everything was just kind of fuzzy.
Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore...
It took him by surprise when one of the screens showed your living room.
Had you connected him to your TV again?
"Vox...? Are you there?"
And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind?
He was too out of it to properly say anything, Vox couldn't recall if the words that stumbled out of him were even coherent.
"Dude... you look like shit."
Listening to your voice gave him a slight moment of sobriety.
"Likewise dollface."
For me it happens all the time...
"Are you wasted??"
"Erm, not really. Just buzzed."
He was able to take a good look at you then, your eyes were red and puffy like you'd just been crying.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now...
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Uh... well... you know that guy I was dating?"
Vox took a swig of alcohol before he replied, there was no way he was making it through his conversation unless he was drunk out of his circuits.
"My personality copycat? Yeah, what about?"
Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control-
"Your personality- what??"
"Dollface, do you seriously think I wouldn't notice how much of a walking red flag that asshole was?"
You paused as he took another swig of his drink, Vox didn't miss that look of guilt and pity in your eyes.
"But you just called him your copy."
"And? I know I'm a piece of shit. Takes one to know one."
And I need you now...
"Whatever, I don't think you'd stoop as low as he did."
"That's for me to judge, what did the bastard do?"
He saw the slight tremble in your posture, your voice cracked as if you were holding back sobs.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"I- I knew I should've listened to you. I sent him compromising pictures and he... he-"
"You sent him nudes and he used them to blackmail you didn't he?"
You flopped back down on the couch and his unfocused eyes met your watery ones.
So that's why you'd been crying.
I just need you now...
"It doesn't feel good to have your trust broken by someone you gave your heart to I'd reckon."
You scoffed at him, wiping away your tears as they continued to fall.
Vox so badly wanted to make it stop, but he didn't trust himself to be lucid enough to say the right words.
"Well wouldn't you know? I'd bet the women over there would throw themselves at your feet."
Another shot of whisky, can't stop looking at the door...
Vox couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not that made it seem like he heard jealousy in your voice.
There wasn't any reason for you to feel envious anyway.
He took another swig of alcohol before meeting your gaze once again.
Wishing you'd come sweeping, in the way you did before~
"So what if there are? I'm too busy to pursue a dedicated relationship. I mean- have you seen the amount of shit I have to deal with every day?"
You looked dejected by his answer, or at least that's what Vox thought.
Yeah, he was absolutely wasted.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
"So what did you do? Did you break up with the guy?"
"Can't. If I do, he'll release all my pictures online."
Vox hummed, pulling up a window on your computer for you to interact with.
He was a paranoid man as is, but this just proved it didn't hurt to have precautions in place.
For me it happens all the time...
"What is that?"
"Something I made for all your files months ago."
"What does it do?"
Vox took another swig from his bottle.
It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now...
"A safeguard, all files you send from your devices can be irreversibly corrupted remotely. An encryption thing, I tried to tell you about it but you didn't respond."
He wasn't surprised that you pressed the prompt to start the file corruption process on those pictures you'd sent.
Hell, everything you sent the rat bastard that broke your heart.
Honestly, the fucker didn't even deserve you.
Neither did Vox if he had to be honest with himself.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control-
The overlord stayed silent as he drank once more from his bottle of booze.
It was nearly empty at this point, not that he cared.
He could only assume you were watching the progress bar load which was why you didn't say anything.
And I need you now...
Vox just watched as you eventually got up and used your phone to call someone.
A smug smile worked onto his face when he realized who you were talking to.
After all, you'd only curse like a sailor when you were genuinely mad.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"You're kind of hot when you get angry you know?"
"Pfft, is that why you like to piss me off then?"
"Maybe, though I usually do just to get a reaction out of you anyways."
I just need you now...
Vox saw you roll your eyes, a smile finally gracing your face and he couldn't help but return it.
"I just became single again and you're already hitting on me huh?"
"Whaaaaat? I would never."
Vox humored you well into the morning hours.
The both of you talking once again like old times.
Like nothing even happened.
Eventually it got to the point you had fallen asleep on the couch right in front of the TV during one of Vox's stories.
The overlord let a soft genuine smile appear on his face at the sight.
At least you were okay again.
He swirled the remaining alcohol in the bottle and threw his head back as he downed the rest of it.
Finally feeling the exhaustion catch up to him, both emotionally and physically-
Vox's screen dimmed as he succumbed to slumber right alongside you in his chair.
A/N: HOOOOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS LONG- this was an absolute UNIT of a segment but it gets better in the next one I promise, besides- I don't want to doom Vox and Reader by the narrative, that would just be a sucky ending. We'll still have more emotionally vulnerable stuff in the next interlude so if that's not your cup of tea feel free to skip it too.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin vox x reader#vox x you#Get Off My Screen Series
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Yandere! Backroom entity, could you make a yandere of any backroom entity or level? Please?
(I've never seen any Yandere backroom fic, maybe you're the first. It can be any entity or you invent your own, it's up to you!)
anons always have the brightest ideas for yandere writings. like would i have thought of audiente something like this? never, so that is why i have to thank this anon to come with this amazing idea.
THE MONSTER, THE WANDERER AND THE FARMHOUSE
➥warnings/notices: yandere, exophilia(?), liminal spaces(?), gn! reader, poisoning, drugs, obsession, acid, blood, reader is chained and cuddled by the entity, fluff(?).
➥ yandere! entity x gn! reader
➥ synopsis: trapped in a world that you don’t understand, you find yourself in a farmhouse in middle of nowhere with the presence of someone you can’t comprehend.
the recent disappearance of people around the country has raised drastically in the last decade and the government gives he same answer when someone goes missing, ‘there is no trace to lead to an investigation’ and unfortunately, they are right.
none one seems to understand how more than thousands people can simply vanish from existence, almost like they never exist in the first place. it’s creepy, scary and made those who remain become paranoid to even leave their houses, after all, it’s the only place they feel safe. however, they were wrong, this was a false sensation of safety and security. that’s why you have joined the static of the missing people.
yellow and molded walls that never seems to end, an old moist carpet and those irritable electric sounds that reminds you this isn’t a dream. nah, this the place you’ve been living for the past few days and despite walking for uncountable miles, it appears this place has no ending nor escape that will lead you to freedom, almost like this is a no end labyrinth.
if things couldn’t get worse, the food and almond water (where did those thing come from? you don’t recall it) are almost gone, meaning that you would have to go find more of it throughout the yellows walls or starve to death. yet, you aren’t going to give up that easily. you are going to survive this place and will find a way home to see your family again, but also to tell everyone what happens to those who simply vanished.
walking for even more hours, you find a wooden door. it’s look older than you and there is a unfamiliar smell coming from inside, could it be this path might lead to freedom? carefully, you turn the knob to see what is behind and of course, it’s only show a long hall that lack any source of light inside.
there is no way you are going inside. you are desperate to going home, but this looks like a trap to kill you instead of a ticket to escape this world, so you close the door and step away from it. too scared to be lead to a dead end, probably death. you continue to walk towards the unknown, hoping to find another way out of this.
okay, maybe getting through that door would be better choice in some possibilities. but you are happier you didn’t as this new place seems to be more safer and nice.
a farmhouse in the middle of the nowhere, surrounded by trees and grass from all sides with a small vegetable garden close to the house. did someone lived here? by the way the interior is decorated and the smell of flowers seems like it, yet no one is there. your only company is the wind.
you should’ve question yourself if the food was safe, maybe someone has poisoned before you arrive, but your stomach beg to devour the mini cake that was set in the table. the taste didn’t really matter as you wanted to stop the feeling of hungry and that what you did, the whole cake was gone in less than minutes and you couldn’t feel guilty because it.
what if someone was waiting to eat it later? oh, your body began to feel heavier. why are your vision becoming blurry? black spots began forming in your vision and it didn’t took much time to you succumb to the weird sensation, making you unconscious as your body hit the floor.
the smell of baking awakes you. someone is cooking and you are laying down on a bed? your eyes widen noticing it. someone must brought you here and the chain locked on your ankle is a way to proof it.
what? you try to remove the chain away, a failed attempt as the iron is too strong to be destroyed by a weak human like you. also, you immediately give up in trying as there is someone standing in doorframe, watching you.
a tall pitch-black figure stares down at you. its appearance reminds of those weird drawings around the yellow molded walls, warning to those who arrived about the dangerous being that live around in this world. it claws are huge, the emptiness eyes don’t blink and you can hear a soft melody coming from it lips, whatever is this thing, it looks like it will kill you.
“ha ha…” you try to get away from it, pushing yourself against the wall and closing your eyes as a way to pretend this isn’t real, just a mere nightmare that you will wake up soon, but then you feel it claws on your face….is this thing caressing you?
slowly, you open your eyes to find the huge creature kneeling to your height and having it shape claws touching your face in the gentlest way possible, almost like you are made of glass. you can’t tell if this thing is happy, the lack of a mouth makes it emotions almost unreadable, but the human-looking eyes shows kindness and compassion by the scared state you are.
the entity leaves the room for a brief moment before coming back with a piece of a pie and hand it to you, its look delicious and its smell good. the eyes stares at you, waiting for you to do something with the food.
“do you want me to eat it?” the thing nodded at your words, surprising you as he could understand what you are speaking while the non-dangerous anomalies you’ve encountered failed to do so. “okay, thank you for the meal.”
eating a piece of the pie, your eyes sparkled by the taste and you couldn’t help but eat more of it. the entity, in the other hand, watched you devour the food with his eyes gets smaller, analyzing your expressions and happy noises you are making while eating the food it has made for you. being so focused on the meal, you didn’t notice the thing approaching you at first, only feeling its hand touching your shoulder when you have the devour the entire food in minutes.
you can hear purring coming from it despite the lack of mouth, getting closer to your face and patting your head repeatedly.
the humanoid form get closer to you, changing it hand position to your face and making you stare at it. the empty eyes, almost human like, staring deep down at your soul as your head is forced to tilt to the side under it touch.
you can feel something fall over your clothes, its the black stuff that composes the entity’s body, “H-HEY!” you try to remove it away, but the weight of the entity’s body is too heavy to move it as it lay next to you, putting it arms around your body, bringing you to lay down on the bed along with it.
the head of the thing snuggles against your neck, not letting any centimeters separate the two of you as it is trying to remove any distance between your body to it. the entity doesn’t move, it stay still next to you as you try to get away from this place, but for now, you should just take a deserved nap.
closing your eyes, you could feel the entity stare at your with emptiness eyes one last time before your world faded to black. it’s look happy to have you in their arms.
@moonit3 writings
#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere writing#yandere headcanons#yandere headcanon#yandere hcs#yandere exophilia#yandere entity#yandere monster#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere x gn reader#gender neutral insert#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral reader#tw yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere original character#➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings#my oc the entity
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leveling the playing field IX
summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.6k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
join my taglist here
a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !
without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3
next part
Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.
He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.
Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.
Y/N/N,
I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.
I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?
Please tell me you're not dead.
Yours,
Always yours, your Coryo
He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.
The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.
When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.
"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."
"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.
"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"
"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.
You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.
You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.
You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.
You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.
You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.
You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.
You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.
Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"
"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."
"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.
"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.
"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."
You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.
"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."
"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."
Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"
"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"
"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"
"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."
You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."
"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,
You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.
"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.
"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."
You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."
Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"
"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."
It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.
Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.
You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.
You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.
Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.
Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.
Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.
"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."
This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.
"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.
"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.
"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."
Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"
You nod.
"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."
"Sorry?"
"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."
You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."
"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."
"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."
"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."
"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.
"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.
"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.
"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.
"Please." She nods.
"Can I stay with you?"
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#tbosas#tbosas fic#thg series#tbosas x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coryo snow#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#thg
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I just read some of your works and god do you write good better than the actual show I would even say.
I really want to request a Yandere headcannon for mainly Ozzie and Fizzarolli they don’t get enough love as they do, but with a little twist
Whichever you choose I would love either one you pick cause im indecisive.
1: a powerful reader maybe even more stronger than Ozzie being lovers with the two
Or 2: a chubby but physically strong reader that could lift Ozzie with ease as example
If you do see this I hope you consider writing this, you have such a lovely writing style and I would love to see what you cook up
Also call me 🥟-anon if you will cause I hope to request and talk more
ᯓ★ Murder is Okay, Shutting Us Out Isn't.
Yandere! Asmodeus & Fizzarolli / Overlord! Reader | Oneshot
TW! - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: romanticizing yandere(s), obsessive behavior, def not proof read (because we die like Adam in this household /j), Vox (/j), boner mention (no sexual content), self harm, yelling, possessive
ᯓ I actually loved both ideas you gave me, so I'm going to mash then both together into one! For that, I'm going to give you all a little crash course into the background for the Reader (you) in this story so things make a little more sense:
The reader, though an Overlord, is both physically and magically stronger than Ozzie, though doesn't show it off often. Also, this happened due to their mix of blood; The reader is the child of an an old overlord and a Sin (I'm going for Wrath in this story) and had gained the physical strength from their overlord mother and the magical strength from their Sin father.
With this they're able to be known as the Wrathful Overlord, or 'The child and will of Wrath', though Satan doesn't claim them to be his own and has no interest to.
Also, no the Reader isn't stronger than other Sins, just Ozzie for this case. Since Ozzie is claimed to be the weakest (or one of the Weaker) Sin that we currently know of, the Reader is matched right around his level. Yet they, much like Alastor, cannot beat other Sins or even Adam, as even with their strengths, are set back by the rather large power difference.
So with that out of the way, please enjoy!:
ᯓ You had been living with Ozzie and Fizz for a few months, silently having moved away from your district on the Eastern side of the Pride Ring after their proposal. While it was not uncommon for love to bloom in hell, even with the eternal suffering or the large amount of (usually) taboo topics being put on display down here, you were still not big on having your private life being posted for all of hell to see.
Especially those in the Pride Ring, where you were sure Vox would take any chance to slander and drag your name in the mud for having a 'blasphemous' relationship. And really, you didn't feel like cleaning up the blood of another Sinner.
Oh no, not because you killed them. Dear, Lucifer god no! Why do that when you had two perfect body guards at your beckon and call?
ᯓ "Honestly, I don't even understand how there can be blasphemy down here. It's hell, God is not watching what we do and I pity him if he did." You would mutter, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching News 666 on your cellphone silently with Fizz; Who had became curious open hearing the news topic and bounded over, wrapping his snake-like arms around your waist twice.
He squeezed you a little tight, yet you didn't mind, especially when his head was rested upon your shoulder. You could practically see the growing smirk on his lips before he even spoke, "You know everything we do down here is blasphemes right? That's why we're in Hell, not Heaven.
I mean the murder, the sex, the gr-" Though Fizz's little list was caught off short as you hushed him, pressing a quick finger up against his lips.
ᯓ Ozzie was cooking in the background, occasionally taking peaks behind him to make sure you nor Fizz were doing anything stupid; Like trying to cook despite knowing neither of you could do so. It was always a nice gesture until Ozzie has to get the kitchen repaired... again.
"And this in, News 666 and it's broadcasting will be disturbed quickly for a message from The fucking V's themselves." Katie Killjoy would crack her neck to the side, seeming oh so annoyed at the interruption. You were too, and Fizz didn't miss the way your face scrunched.
"You know Tom, their news isn't even repu-" Katie tried to shout before their segment was cut off, their news source becoming engulfed in The V's logo before the man of the hour, Vox himself, overtook the screen. Him and his snicker, you knew this couldn't be good.
ᯓ Vox never hit the air unless he knew something, unless he wanted something to happen, unless this was his calculated and curated response to something.
ᯓ And the last time that happened, Alastor wiped the floor with him.
ᯓ Fizz drew away from your shoulder a little, his eyes narrowing at your growing irritation before he glanced back towards Ozzie, who already had his arms crossed in confusion. Sure, they've heard about this Vox, mostly from you, but they never expected you to have this much of a detest about him.
What happened between you and this TV-head that they didn't manage to dig up? And most importantly, recent or not, did he ever hurt you in anyway. . . or was he planning to?
ᯓ "This just in, news is starting to come up from higher-ups, and close friends, in Wrath Town that their leader, supposed their supposed Overlord, the Child of Wrath, themselves, have gone missing!" Vox stated, trying to carefully keep his voice leveled yet failing miserably; From the twitch in his eye and the wide, plastering grin across his flat face, you could just tell this was another Alastor situation.
Yet an Alastor situation that was not pointed directly towards Alastor rather You; Which you had saw coming, maybe even expected it, but fucking Lucifer did you hope you could at least get a good year under your belt before Vox came in to spread 'miss information' all over the Pride Ring.
All just to keep his viewers attention on him, just to keep his support. What a loser.
ᯓ You would scoff, trying not to laugh at his obsessive allegations, which were true you guessed, as Fizz and Ozzie silently listened from beside and behind you. While you didn't seem alarmed, or even frightened at the least (as they were sure you would be, seeing as this seemed common for Overlords to not get along) they sure were.
Well, not alarmed per say, rather on guard; carefully lingering on the words that Vox was so carelessly spewing to all of those who watched his broadcast. And you noticed how Fizz drew back closer, leaning over your shoulder to glare at your phone, to glare at Vox like Vox might feel his stare, like he was daring Vox to say something else; All the while you couldn't help but laugh, chuckle, giggle, and kind of make fun of Vox as he continued on.
His senseless chatter played in the background as you tried to wave off your fiancés' concerns, "Please, guys, don't get worked up over him, he's no threat; More like an annoying bug under everyone's shoe."
"One who, from what we hear, likes to stick his non-existent nose in other people's business." Ozzie would comment from the stove, his glare still harsh on the screen even as he flipped over the bacon in the pan. His tone was leaking with annoyance, or maybe irritation and ire is are better words; Either way, you shrugged your shoulders as he continued, "Really, doesn't he have like any other news? that's all basically weightless if it's coming from other people's mouths!"
"It's gossip, it keeps his viewer's attention and support up. That's the whole point," You would explain, slightly rolling your eyes at the crazed look Vox gave you. Granted, it was through the screen, but, "I would have thought he would know better than to talk about me, especially since I've shattered his screen more than once."
Though Fizz was less amused, "You both give than man way too much credit-" Was the only part of his commentary he could get out, hands on the counter now, before a shout from Vox drew all of your attentions back in.
ᯓ "Oh, ho-ho!" And there was a cackle, one that caused your eyebrows to frown downwards and scrunch your face. One that rang out like an annoying fire alarm and drew a growl from Fizz's throat and a flicker of hellish flame from Ozzie's coat. It's like you all could smell that the shit that Vox was going to spew.
"THIS JUST IN," And there was a slam of his hands on the table, "I JUST GOT WORD FROM A TRUSTED SOURCE THAT THE WRATHFUL OVERLORD IS NOT ONLY NOT IN THEIR PITIFUL, SHIT-HOLE OF A TOWN, YET THEY'RE NOT EVEN IN THE PRIDE RING!-
Where the fuck are they, you might ask? Well, not fucking here and maybe that's for the better, this place was turning into a shit down with them around." His grin would tease you from behind the screen, and you grew slightly worried that he could see you. That, as his eyes widened and he drew closer to the screen, that he could see right through it. . .
ᯓ "You're in the fucking Lust ring, you absolute SLUT! What the fuck are you doing hanging around an, who's that? An Imp and- And is that Asmodeus himself in the background!" Clack! You would drop your phone like it had burnt you and stumbled backwards, not out of fear, you could never be fearful of someone like Vox, yet out of . . . what would be the word?
Ire? Exasperation? Irritation? Preservation?
Fizz was quick to lock his arms, just to keep you from stumbling back too far and hitting against the countertops near the stove, potentially burning yourself; As Ozzie stepped up, standing protectively between the phone and the two of you, the flickering of his growing detestation and bubbling anger slowly flickering around his coat, which threatened to burst flames.
"This just in, your little Wrathful Overlord, has not only abandoned the Pride Ring yet is sleeping with the Sin of Lust and his weak-dick, limp ass Imp!" Vox's cackle echoed around the room, "That's so fucking sad!- Oh, looks like no one will ever have any sort of reason to be scared of you anymore," And his name spilled out from his lips with venom, poisoning the air with his slithering voice.
That was, until his broadcast was cut off, cutting his maniacal laughter short, with a crackle then pop. It seemed like Ozzie had enough of listening to Vox, and seemingly had enough of your phone, as he had slammed his fists into the counter. Effectively ending the broadcast and your phone all in one go.
ᯓ And nothing but silence filled the room, just as you were sure nothing but silence (and soon an eruption of hatred and irreverence) filled the Pride Ring, and Wrath Town.
ᯓ "Fuck. ." Was the words that left with an airy breath.
ᯓ "THAT FUCKER IS SO DEAD!" Was Ozzie's first words; his hair combusting into flames, his irritation and outrage boiling over and finally having struck that match.
ᯓ Maybe it was slight shock overwhelming you, never having expected your engagement to be outrighted for everyone in the Pride Ring to hear, or maybe it was Fizz carelessly (accidentally) spinning you around, but you found yourself exasperation against the kitchen counter; Your eyes still locked on where your cellphone was now intended into the counter.
"I've got the rope!" Fizz's voice barely registered in your ears, along with the sounds of his mechanical arms and legs moving to easily wrap himself around Ozzie. "Let's go kill that fucker!- or maybe tie him up and leave him exposed and naked on his own stupid broadcast. Like, really, who does he think he is trying to come for us like that?"
Fizz's agreement with Ozzie's irrational solution caused a growl, a very lion-like one, to seep through Ozzie's gritting teeth, "A two timing nobody, that's who he is, and I won't stand for it! He comes for what's mine and I'm going to show him who the FUCK he's dealing with!"
ᯓ You know, maybe you've enabled their behavior a little too much; Sure, you loved the way they grew overprotected about you (and as you were sure they loved when you did the same) yet logically, you knew you had to stop them. When news gets out about Ozzie and Fizz going up to the Pride Ring and killing, or humiliating, an overlord not only will Vox's words be taken as facts, which can cause a whole other set of issues, yet Lucifer might also get involved.
Of course, though, your knowledge about how Sins worked together and how they could interfere with each other's rings was limited. Yet, you can only guess a Sin killing an Overlord in another person's ring would just cause some sort of uproar.
ᯓ So when Ozzie, with Fizz coiled around his arm as to not get burnt, were about to leave the kitchen-living room, you had to act fast. Even while a little dazed, a little out of your own body, stilling trying to reel in the information of the situation that just happened, you dashed forward towards them. Or maybe your feet did so because they knew you had to catch them, and it sure felt that way rather than your own doing.
It all felt like you were watching through a pair of another's person's eyes as you rushed over, your tail trashing out to stag the Ozzie's heel and trip him (you would have to apologize later). It bought you some time to slid in between him and floor, effectively catching him in your arms.
"Yeah, as to hell we're going to go do anything boys! We're," You slammed the door closed, effectively walking away from it, "Staying here!" And that was your final verdict and that was what you were going to do as to make sure you can control this situation as much as possible. While frazzled and your finances' not thinking properly, giving into their own natural urges that some would call taboo (even for hell), this was no time to do that. Ergo, this was no time to be out murdering people!
ᯓ At that time you failed to notice the blush and wide eyes that had sprung to Ozzie's face when you dropped them both onto the couch, as well as the slight boner he had to hide by crossing his legs; Which Fizz defiantly noticed and teased him for with a snicker.
Often times, not on purpose, did Fizz and Ozzie forget that out of all three of you, you were the strongest. Physically and magically, as you tended not to flash it off like some demons like to do, instead you flashed where you shined mentally. Though, damn, does it get Ozzie every time you swiftly come in and pick him up like he was weightless, with the same ease he picked up Fizz and you (even after you had told the first few times he didn't have to, later learning that you were conscience about your weight due to your chubbier figure).
So it managed to calm Ozzie down, at least a little for the time being. Fizz would follow after, not really looking to murder people by himself - or at least not wanting to or not believing that he could.
ᯓ Calling your name from the couch, yet to no effect, the two would watch as you walked away from them to only circle right back round and leave again; pacing around the room with a constipated look on your face, leaving them confused, and slightly concerned, on the couch.
Fizz slinked down to sit on Ozzie's lap, seeing as Ozzie had sat up to make sure you were alright while walking circles around them. Them both noticed quickly the way your tail trashed dangerously, the slight glare you gave to your phone anytime you passed through the kitchen, and the way your left hand clutched and curled in on itself. Fizz was sure your claws were digging into the skin of your palm, where marks from previous punctures of your claws laid fresh.
"Hey," Ozzie started, calling out your nickname yet watching it effectively fall onto death ears. Even so, he continued, what's going on?" An invitation to talk to them, an invitation that received the acknowledgement of you hitting the tip of your tail against the floor to ceiling glass. Your own way of letting them know you heard him, yet needed a moment to gather your thoughts.
To find something that can fix this situation without it blowing over and becoming bigger than you needed or wanted it to. To find a way to sweep and brush it under the rug. To just- make it like it never, ever fucking happened!
ᯓ Crack!
ᯓ You barely felt it, the smoke of Wrath infesting your very mind and blurring every other sense. Yet, Fizz and Ozzie caught it with ease. They heard the crack of your bone, the saw the way your nails not only had dug into your skin with the increase pressure yet suddenly broke through your palm and to the other side of your hand.
Fizz covered his mouth, trying to hold in the gag that threatened to escape from the shock that filled him. Ozzie, wrapping an arm around Fizz to support him up to his chest to comfort him, would stand. . . and he didn't know how else to get your attention but exploding; Calling your name with a tone he rather not use with you.
"WHAT?" Yet you would snap back, a green lining the inside of your eyes, right by your pupils. "WHAT CAN BE SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU CANNOT WAIT, OZZIE. I'M TRYING TO-"
A tug at your wrist, Fizz, despite not being able to stand the sight if your claws puncturing through your hand, dragged you over to them. He rose your hand up to eye level once you were in front of the two, and he didn't want to make you watch the black blood that flowed down from it, that coated your claws thickly, he knew it was the only way to get you to pay attention.
To realize that you hurt yourself in the panic of trying to fix a problem that could best be fixed together. To realize the scowl that was placed upon Ozzie's face at your actions, yet the underlining concern he had. To notice how Fizz was a bit sickened at the fact that you could so easily hurt yourself, and hurt that you wouldn't talk to them and effectively just shut them out again.
Even though they have both told you countless times that you could talk them through your thoughts, that they can help you, that they want to help you! Even if you felt like you needed to handle everything that happened by yourself, even if you felt like the world was crushing in they were here! They were always here for you, and they were ready to help as long as you just talked to them.
ᯓ Fizz and Ozzie, out of everyone and anything, care about you (and granted each other) the most. And to see you physically hurt yourself over someone you told them not to worry about . . . well it stabbed them in the heart and made them ever so more concerned.
ᯓ "I just, I need time. I can figure this out if I'm given enough time." You would try to explain to Ozzie and Fizz as you sat on Ozzie's desk, where Fizz usually sat to replace any problem limbs. Fizz sat beside you, securely holding your right hand in his own and nuzzling up to you; His head resting against yours. Ozzie was in front of you, carefully trying to bring your claws out of the palm of your hand without hurting you, so he could then disinfect the wounds and wrap them up.
He would have gotten a doctor, but felt a bit too fired up to let any medical professional touch you when you were so vulnerable. "Honey, get us, we know," Ozzie started, then let out a heavy sigh.
"You say that every time something shitty happens in Pride. It's like- your go to thing!" Fizz added on, his tone a bit chirpier than Ozzie's; trying to lighten the mood, bring at least a small tug of a smile onto your face.
Ozzie would soon apologize as you let out a hiss, feeling your claw carefully yet strikingly painfully being pulled out from your palm. You squeezed Fizz's hand, he nuzzled his head further against yours. And yet, you still spoke through gritted teeth and hissing, "I just! There never seems to be- FUCK, Ozzie that shit hurts!"
"Love, I'm sorry, but I'm trying my best to make it as painless as possible. Yet, it's kind of hard when you managed to stab yourself right between your own bones." Ozzie mumbled, quickly working on the exposed wound, trying to wrap it with a towel just for the time being so he could work on the other three fingers (your thumb didn't puncture through skin, but did leave a good wound on your middle finger).
Fizz would let out a nervous bit of laughter, trying to turn the situation away from your pain, just so you wouldn't have to think about it. "Hey, why don't you tell us why. . . you were so against us going to go kill the guy! I mean, I'm sure it would be easier than thinking of a whole counter plan and stabbing yourself through the hand, wounding yourself for someone you-"
"Froggie," Ozzie warned, though his tone was still soft, noticing quickly how he began to ramble out of nerves. "I don't think that's helping."
ᯓ Yet you didn't mind much, it kind of did set your brain a little more straight and screwed in properly. So in a way you kind of did need Fizz's nervous rambling right now, "No, no it's fine. I. . . needed that. I just," A frown stretched upon your face, letting out a heavy sigh that was quickly replaced with a painful hiss and quickly followed by another apology from Ozzie.
Your face scrunched at the pain, yet softened as you felt Fizz trying to comfort you once more. His hand squeezed your undamaged one, and when you turned your head towards his, he connected your foreheads.
The distress that came from your fiancés were slowly becoming more apparent to you; Especially by the way Fizz looked into you, his own eyebrows frowned and scrunched, worry laced around his eyes. You felt the pressure of Ozzie wrapping your newly oxygen exposed wound with the towel, trying to cover it gently yet firmly enough.
"I just. . . didn't want them to hurt you." The words left your mouth before you could think about their weight; Even if they were nothing but the truth, all the worry that struck your brain the moment Vox had called you out was all due to your worry that Fizz and Ozzie might get hurt.
That they might be caught in some sort of cross fire between Vox and you and you would have to deal with their blood on your hands. That was a thought your couldn't bear to stand.
ᯓ The silence was thick for a good few minutes as you kept your eyes squeezed shut, afraid to open them and face Ozzie and Fizz. You could feel as Fizz leaned in, nuzzling your nose against his in an attempt to comfort you, coax you to open your eyes. But he just saw they way they twitched and you squeezed harder.
You could feel as Ozzie paused, his fingers gently grabbing around yours yet not giving it's usual tug. And without looking at them, you felt the nerves build in your stomach at the thought that you might have offended them in some way, or they were disappointed in you for some reason. Yet they weren't. Logically, you knew that they weren't any of those things, yet they worrying thoughts still crept in your mind.
"Baby, no. . ." Ozzie's sweet voice would ring through the unwanted chatter in your mind, almost like he could hear or feel what was happening in your tornado of a mind. "No, you don't have to worry about us, we were more worried about you. Trust me."
You felt Ozzie's engulfing hand rest against your cheek and Fizz nod against your head, "Oh yeah! Our names have been racked through the mud since the whole Mammon incident. Trust us, we can take a little shit, but-" And Fizz paused, always a little hesitant to speak about these topics, "This is new to you, and we know how important your work is to you."
"And Just like Sins, I'm sure an Overlord's power also comes from your reputation among people. And that guy, well, directly went for your reputation," Ozzie mumbled, his thumb rubbing sweetly against your cheek. He couldn't dent it, but he loved how they were a little chubbier than most, making your skin a little more plump and soft. "And for that I would have killed him! But you don't want that, for some reason I still don't understand!- But, we respect that. Just know we're here to help anyway we can."
"Yeah just say the word!" Fizz playfully moved his head to nuzzle his nose against your other cheek, effectively earning a smile from you and a few bits of suppressed laughter that dared to bubble out your throat. You weren't sure why it was always ticklish when Fizz nuzzled his nose against your cheek, yet it was.
"Okay, Okay!-" A giggle slipped through your lips, "I'm sorry. . . I should have, talked to you guys instead of-" You paused, chewing over your words.
Yet, you didn't have to think for long as Fizz cut in, "Pushing us away?"
"Hurting yourself?" Ozzie swiftly added after, both with their own sassy yet caring tones as they stared down at you.
"Yeah. . . that." You would mumble, with an heat rushing up to your cheeks out of embarrassment. You didn't realize you were actually being that big of a dick to the two most important people in your life. Wow, you really did need that reality check from Fizz earlier.
ᯓ "Well, thank god we love you." Fizz's sarcastic voice trailed out with a cheeky grin spread across his face, showing off his pointed teeth and his ever so adorable cheeky attitude. "Or else this would be such a different story! You might have ended out on the streets, or worse, dead." And even if his words would be less than comforting for anyone else, you couldn't help but smile at them; Shooting your own cheeky glare back, finally gaining the courage to open your eyes again.
To bask in your lovers' faces instead of cowering in the darkness, fearing a rejection that was never there to begin with. Something that would have never came.
Ozzie took the chance to, while you were laughing and smiling and paying attention to Fizz rather than your own pain, to gently yet swiftly take out your third claw. Instantly, your tail trashed and a hiss escaped your mouth. And while he felt bad, Ozzie couldn't help but shake his head and rather seriously state, "Yeah, but don't ever do this again."
"Yeah no, I don't think I can take looking at you stab through your own hand either." Fizz agreed, shaking his head. Either way, he went back to nuzzling you to comfort, trying to distract you from the pain of your hands as Ozzie moved the towel over your third wound. One more to go.
You tried to keep in the giggles that threatened to escape due to their words, yet you couldn't help it. With a roll of your eyes and a sarcastic, yet playful, tone, you muttered back to them, "Well, fuck, if I ever get stabbed I'm never coming to either of you!"
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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
[ A/N: Also, thank you so much for this request, it was a joy to write! I can't wait to hear from you again the future!
And thank you to everyone for supporting my work, I've gotten so many nice comments in my inbox and I promise I'm trying to get through everyone's requests, or as much of them as possible. There's a good handful of them that request the same thing, so they will be clumped together, just because I don't think I can make enough content to make four separate posts about Adam with a Goth girlfriend or Yandere Lucifer lol! But, thank you all for the support, really, I wouldn't be able to do this all without you :) ]
#helluva x reader#helluva asmodeus x reader#helluva fizzarolli x reader#fizzmodeus x reader#helluva boss x reader#asmodeus x reader#asmodeus helluva boss#helluva boss asmodeus#asmodeus x fizzarolli#fizzarolli#fizzarozzie#fizzaroli helluva boss#fizzmodeus#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#helluva boss#helluvaboss#tw yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#adam x you#yandere imagines#not proof read#not proofread#x reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#helluverse#hazbin hotel
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Rise!Boys accidentally confess their love to Reader.
Relationship status: Romantic
Reader prounouns: They/Them
TW: Slight angst for Raph's part, Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.
Author's note: Just enjoy lol.
.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.
Leonardo
◇ Ever since Leo realized his feelings, his casual demeanor towards [Y.N] had turned into almost aggressively flirting.
◇ Despite not wanting to rush into confessing his feelings, he was practically a simp for that person..
◇ But he also teased them often, of course, not on a seriously offensive level. Just light pokes and prods.
◇ I'm sure he bragged to anyone about his not-yet relationship with [Y.N].
"Oh, and I recently won a unicorn plushie for them, and they were really delighted! WE'RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER!"
"Pepino, get the hell out of here."
◇ Just as Donatello had enough of his (non-)twin, he now wanted to dig a hole to hell and throw him in there to finally get some rest.
◇ Anyway, the accidental confession happened one night when neither he nor [Y.N] could sleep.
◇ They were sending each other various memes through Discord in bulk. This boosted his confidence even more, leading to him typing 'I love you.'
◇ Of course, he hadn't sent it yet; his mind was suddenly filled with not-so-good thoughts. What if they don't feel the same? What if they laugh at him?? Or something worse?!
◇ Despite his persona, the boy was full of insecurities, from his looks to his personality, but with them... he felt good about himself.
◇ But would such a confession be too simple? The boy decided to wait at least one day before confessing his love.
◇ But fate said 'nuh-uh,' and his phone fell on Leo's face, causing panic. Due to his carelessness, he held the device wrong, resulting in the accidental sending of the ill-fated message.
"No, no, no, NO!" His voice trembled as he tried to delete the message immediately. Unfortunately, the app froze to his disadvantage. "Damn it!"
◇ When he managed to reopen the app, there was a new message.
◇ "... You are not joking, right?"
◇ This night would last even longer than a turtle had anticipated.
Raphael
◇ I think it happened during the attack on their home by Shredder. Absolute chaos, a storm of emotions, the perfect situation for an imperfect love confession.
◇ "Raph, have you lost your mind?!" [Y.N] began, full of outrage. "Why didn't you let me stay? Splinter and Draxum need help!"
The turtle furrowed his brow bones, looking down at the shorter person with regret. "It was the only way, I'm sure they'll handle it."
"And what if they don't? What if they needed our help right now?"
◇ No matter how advanced [Y.N]'s combat skills were, Raphael was even more opposed to the idea.
◇ "Nothing will happen to them!" Raphael raised his voice, as if trying to convince not only the teenager but himself. "And stop arguing with me; I'm the leader here, and I make the decisions!"
"Damn it, I don't understand you! I could handle it, and you would have more time to plan; I'm not needed here!!"
◇ Just a reminder, everyone present was watching this argument.
◇ "Yes, you are!"
"No, I'm not!"
"You are! I don't want to lose you like Gram Gram; I love you too much!" His angry red face suddenly turned shocked. Oh, oh. Did he really just say that??
◇ His dark eyes met the teenage counterpart's. Their whole face was red, and their determination to sacrifice themself slowly faded from their eyes.
"... Fine," [Y.N] muttered and sat down in the seat next to Michelangelo.
◇ When all this chaos is over, they'll have to talk, this time more calmly.
Donatello
◇ Donnie has a need to be as organized as possible, so before suggesting anything, he has to plan everything out and make sure that any confession of feelings will go perfectly.
◇ Of course, he had a large folder with potential scenarios that could happen before and after the confession. It had a bit of a vibe from his previous reincarnation, but much less scary and obsessive - he simply felt strong discomfort without preparation.
◇ Leo likes to tease him about it, by the way.
◇ Anyway, there was one situation the boy didn't anticipate. One night, he had been working on another invention all night, aimed at stealing another battery from the Purple Dragons, and in the morning, he fell asleep at his desk, or rather, he was half-unconscious.
◇ "Dee, come to bed." Raphael's voice echoed through the lab, gently shaking the sleepy Soft-shell's naked shoulder. In response, he got some sluggish syllables and a hiss. "You can't sit here like this; it's not healthy." "And sitting here all night is unhealthy enough," he added quietly.
"Get lost..." That's all the turtle understood. Raph rolled his eyes and moved away from his brother a bit.
"I'm not going to struggle; I'm sleep-deprived myself," the red-loving enthusiast said, picking up his phone.
◇ And so [Y.N] appeared in the lair, as the ultimate weapon.
◇ "Donnie! Get up! Lie down in bed!" The teenager themself was not well-rested, considering the early hour, but they tried not to sound irritated. Donnie mumbled something again and straightened up in his chair.
"Raphaello, leave me alone," Donnie started, putting his hands on the keyboard. Apparently, he had no intention of opening his eyes. "I still need to make a few changes to the code..."
"Wait, do you think I'm Raph??" [Y.N] asked in surprise, pointing at themself. Did their voice really sound so manly and deep?? Since when??
"And you're talking in the third person again; I've told you that it's no longer fashionable." Donnie tried not to hit his head against the desk even a little, wanting to at least be somewhat awake. The human wanted to say something, correct him, but gave up with a certain idea in their mind.
◇ they had noticed strange aspects of their friend's behavior lately. He was more open to their, often grabbing their hand or hugging their despite his usual aversion to it, he made various devices for their that made quite an impression on their... there had to be something to it!
◇ "Hey, buddy," the human leaned lazily against the desk, trying their best to mimic the speech style of the oldest of the brothers. "Do you, you know, have something going on with our best, most wonderful human friend??"
"You mean April?" Ouch, that hurt, even though [Y.N] felt the same way. "She's our almost-sister, Raph, yuck."
◇ "Oh, no! [Y.N], I meant [Y.N]!" The teenager corrected themself, slightly annoyed. It was weird.
"What about them? I already told you." No! Not like that!
"Ahahah, you know I have a bad memory when I'm not stressed!"
"Mh..." Pause. Did they say something wrong? Donatello is overly smart; he should figure out what's wrong! How will they explain this? "Everything's fine; my plan will be initiated in half a year at the latest." Plan? What plan??
"Plan...?"
"Rendezvous plan, duh," Donnie replied, resting his head on his hand. "I know you advised against it, but I can't do it differently. I need everything to be tip-top before I confess my feelings to them."
◇ "..."
◇ "..."
◇ "Raph...?"
◇ [Y.N] remained silent, trying to control their sudden heartbeat and their face turning as red as a strawberry.
Michelangelo
◇ Playing the role of Dr. Delicate Touch, the boy knew perfectly well what he felt and wanted to confess his love, but the natural fear of rejection also got to him.
◇ He wanted to think this all through. He wanted to do it as smoothly and charmingly as possible, but not in a way that made it seem like he didn't care. He didn't want to throw such important words to the wind!
◇ His artist's soul played a significant role here. Every time he felt great, he had to sketch something related to love.
◇ Just woke up from a fantastic dream? He had to quickly grab his sketchbook and sketch [Y.N] in a floral wreath.
◇ He was on patrol and saw their favorite cafe? He started sketching the teenager drinking coffee in the nearby sand with his finger, taking a picture of it as a keepsake.
◇ Spending quality time with [Y.N]? He convinced them to start painting each other with his favorite markers, and under the pretext of light fun, he drew orange hearts on their cheeks.
◇ It was all fun until there was an 'accident' during one of the previously mentioned activities.
◇ So, Mikey and [Y.N] were in his new room after Shredder's attack, and he needed help with some unique decoration.
◇ "Wait, isn't that a neon banner from the nearby store??" The teenager asked, pointing at the mentioned thing, peeking out from behind the boy.
"I neither confirm nor deny it!" Mikey laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "You have to admit it fits perfectly."
"Mhm, but I doubt you'll fall asleep with this," [Y.N] said skeptically, picking up one of the cardboard boxes that contained a surplus of notebook-like items. "Where does this go?"
"Oh! Just put it next to the cabinet; I'll put them in the drawers in a sec."
The human nodded, and as they took a few more steps, they tripped over the cables lying on the floor. they fell to the ground with a squeak, dropping the box less than half a meter in front of them.
"Are you okay??" The orange-loving enthusiast quickly ran to his friend, helping them get up as they groaned in pain.
"Yeah, I think so..." Their voice trailed off, surprising Mikey, who followed their gaze.
◇ His pupils immediately narrowed upon seeing an open sketchbook with many drawings and sketches of [Y.N], with a predominant theme of love.
"Mikey...?"
"IT'S NOTHING!" The teenager shouted, hastily picking up the sketchbook from the floor and pressing it against his plastron.
◇ Their faces both turned equally red with excessive thinking.
◇ Oops.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#rottmnt x y/n#rottmnt x you#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise donnie x reader#rise leo x reader#rise mikey x reader#rise raph x reader#rottmnt x reader#Headcanons#x reader
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Hope this isn't an ask you get all the time, but how do you track your progress when you're doing editing?
Everyone talks about word goals, and that seems fine for a first draft, but doesn't make sense to me when it comes to revisions. Do you have any kind of system for setting daily goals for your revisions?
Actually, I don't think anyone's ever asked me about this. :) So no sweat.
Briefly: I think you're wise in not attempting wordcounting in this phase of dealing with an MS—or trying to push yourself into a structure so rigid. ...There's this, too: there's a whole lot too much emphasis out there at the moment on trying to force yourself into other people's writing and editing paradigms—so many of them riddled with bar graphs and "demonstrable" daily progress. You need to find what works for you. More words dealt with in a day, sure, that's encouraging in its way. But are they the right words?
Today’s Writer Take that will probably strike some as Hot (and ask me if I care): Some kinds of writing progress are just neither graphically nor numerically quantifiable. And damned to the least TripAdvisorally-acceptable regions of [insert your preferred underworld here] be those who’ve tried to sell people the idea that they are.
(sigh)
Now, for what it's worth: here's how I do it. Which may be useful to other people, or not so much so. And that's fine, because I'm not editing their novels. :)
(Adding a break here. Under the cut: advice + advice = advice, and some images of text I shouldn't be letting y'all see just yet... but WTF.)
Revision for me is a fairly relaxed business—unless my editor has told me WE NEED THIS ON TUESDAY, which thank sweet Thoth on his e-bike is very rare.
It also helps that I like revising. (When I was a kid, I liked liver, too. And spinach. Just call me Miss Outlier and let's move on.) I really enjoy the feeling of the work’s rough edges being filed down and the sparse places being filled out.
And also: second draft/first revision draft is nowhere near as tense for me as first draft. Because, thank God, at least there's a book.
First draft is where I sweat blood and otherwise suffer. While I can see the story just fine in my head, it's not really real for me until the first draft, whole in narrative and action, is complete on paper/in the machine. And till it's achieved at least that level of reality, I can't relax.
But by the time I hit my second/revision draft, I can be confident that any really serious problems in the novel have already been solved—because I'm an outliner. In the outline stage, potential thematic or structural troubles will routinely have revealed themselves way long ago: before drafting even got started, as I first wired the story's bones together. The successfully-executed first draft acts as proof-of-concept for that structural wiring. By the time that draft’s done, it’s immediately apparent whether the skeleton can successfully stand up by itself. And gods is that a relief when it does! You’re tempted to jump around yelling “It's aliiiiiive!" as the lightning strikes around you.*
However, if after submitting that draft my editor's found something structurally or thematically troublesome in it that I've completely missed until this point, my first order of business becomes to fix whatever their notes involve and submit the fixes. Nothing further happens until the editor sees what I've done about those problems, and until I get agreement that whatever intervention I've enacted has now sorted the problems out.
After that, everything happens in bed.
(...casually noting that for a line to use somewhere else...) :)
But seriously: I do my best revision and editing before getting up in the morning.
Some of this is because, for me, the mind's nice and quiet and (theoretically) at least moderately well rested, right after sleep. I might take the briefest glance at my email first to make sure nothing urgent needs attention... but once that’s done, I refuse to let myself go any further down that hole. That early-morning calm is a mental state I'm glad to exploit, and one I jealously guard. On days when I'm forced to do without the working lie-in**, I use a different approach: when there's a pause, sit down and do nothing—no reading, no video, no music, no phone, nothing—for half an hour: then start editing. Routinely, the quiet I need will once more have fallen.
The in-bed-editing approach also works for me because (since I'm working in Scrivener) it's absolutely no big deal to finish a day's editing on a file by exporting a version of the file containing the day's edits to ebook format, and into my Dropbox. From there, in the morning, without ever getting out from under the covers, I can pull that .epub file into my tablet and read it as an ebook, making corrections and notes there.
This is what it looks like (on a page without too many corrections) if the app you're using is "Books" in an iPad. The second image is what you get when you touch on the marginal yellow square of the note to examine it.
Then, when I'm finished looking over the previous day's/evening's writing and adding notes to it, I go downstairs, get some caffeine in me, and make the changes in the main Scrivener file. (If I was running the project in question on the iPad version of Scrivener, I'd just make the change right there. But who knows when I'd actually get up, then? Better to do it this way.) :)
In the normal flow of things I'll attempt to deal with a chapter or two a day in this mode. (Always bearing in mind that my chapters in early drafts typically run long—often 10K or so—and I'm likely enough to rebreak them later.) This first level of revision is the easy one: catching typos and bad or clumsy phrasings, reworking character interactions that need smoothing out; adding better descriptive passages (with particular emphasis on staying in the visual, audio and tactile senses), etc., etc.
So again: no way I'd ever bother worrying about word counts, with these. What seems to count for more is giving yourself time to recognize, gradually, at a reader's pace, what's working in the prose and what isn't. Rush—or try to force the pace to a given number of words per day—and you run the risk of missing something vital. To me, at the tracking level, it seems sufficient to note which chapters have been dealt with, and which are still hanging fire. (I can change the chapters' color labels in Scrivener to make this status visible at a glance, if I need to.)
When everything's dealt with on this pass—which if I'm lucky will take no more than a couple/few weeks—I try to take a couple weeks off before dealing with the MS again. Sometimes that's possible: sometimes not. The longer you can leave the book alone to let your perceptions of it rest and reset themselves, the better. Distance—mental or temporal—seems to lend clarity.
In any case, for me, next comes another pass, tougher to describe. Casually, I refer to it as the "Missed Opportunities/Complications" pass. This is a thing that one of the very best writers I know, John M. Ford, used to do. One of his editors (I think it was) came across him working on an MS one time, and asked him what he was doing. "Complications," Mike muttered. "Removing them?" said his editor. Mike shook his head. "Adding them," he said.
In this pass you look for in-novel connections you've previously missed making. Some dramatic moments have their impact significantly increased if you've found a way to connect them, even casually, with previous events, situations, character thoughts, or dialogue. (The cheap and easy mnemonic for this kind of thing: "Say a thing twice, and it echoes. Say it three times, and it resonates.")
Equally, events (and people) may turn out to require more complex backstory than you've given them in your first draft; so this is where you take care of that. And of course there are almost certainly character and emotional interactions that can use attention; fewer words, more depth, more complexity. What things do these people, in this situation, need to say to one another that they haven't? And also, what drama got scamped or passed up on because you were just too damn tired in the last draft? —Because you too, poor baby, are human; and that state can, entirely logically, make you want not to deal with any more damn drama just now. Even though drama is the lifeblood of your narrative, usually, and tying a tourniquet around it really doesn't help. You are the conduit of power into your narrative, and your varying ability to conduct it is always an issue… so you need to keep an eye open for places where the flow may have temporarily failed.
This pass, ideally, might take no more than another few weeks or a month. And again, I'm not sure any attempt at wordcount tracking would do this work any good. Because, again... are they the right words? And to make the narrative more effective, you may wind up removing as many words as you added in previous passes.
Finally, with all things taken together, I usually reach a point where (by myself, anyway) I can't think of anything to do that'll make this book any better. That's where there then comes—and again, impossible to assign a word count to it—a time when you know you're as Done As You Can Be. If you've been doing this long enough, you may even hear a strange kind of sigh in the back of your head, as the book gives up and lets go...
...into the next stage of production. But even then you keep an eye on it… because in my experience it’s rare that any book's ever that easily just finished. Even in page proofs, something may happen to surprise you.
Anyway, that's when I throw the book the hell out of the house—because no matter how much I've loved it previously, by that time I'm usually seriously tired of it—and wait to see whether the editor feels it needs one more draft. (Disclosure: this has never happened. There might be a few notes that need to be handled. But another full draft? Never yet.)
Anyway: hope this is of help to you.
But the heart of it all? Find your own way, and screw the bar graphs.
*That line, too, is an indicator of trouble to come. "It's?" Not "he's"? Tsk tsk.
**Usually sort of 7-9 AM. Sometimes way earlier, depending on the time of year. Dawn comes real early in the summertime in Ireland…
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I hope this will be short.
I guess this line is the fandom drama of the chapter?
I understand a lot of you are really passionate about the accuracy of the English translation. I just want to encourage you to try to engage with the official translation in good faith.
Ojama shimasu literally means "I am disturbing you/I will get in your way." It's often spoken as a greeting where the "apology" is implied (hence the brackets in my translation), but as usual context is everything in Japanese. Izuku is saying this line in defiance of Tomura's wishes. It basically comes across as Izuku plugging his fingers in his ears.
Me personally? If I were the official translator, I'd have strongly considered translating the line as "I'm coming in whether you like it or not."
The purpose in my pointing out the "common greeting" nature of this line was to demonstrate Izuku's sassiness. This is Izuku doing his "meddling where you don't technically have to" thing. The level of formality in Izuku's speech doesn't necessarily translate to actual politeness (check out @bakuhatsufallinlove's excellent post on that here).
Does "You will let me in," mean the exact same thing? Technically no, but it's the sentiment that counts. From an official translator's point of view, "You will let me in," is shorter, punchier, fits in the speech bubble a lot easier, and still conveys the general idea of what's happening in the scene.
I don't know. I wanted to talk about this because I guess a lot of people are concerned about Izuku's characterization and how it reflects on Japanese culture and how the official translation may be misrepresenting Japanese culture to the English-reading audience, and I just...can I ask that everyone take a step back a minute? Horikoshi isn't writing his story for an English-reading audience. He's not considering at all how any of this sounds to English speakers. That's the translator's job, not just to translate what is said but to translate that into the context of who is reading it. Localization is not a dirty word--it's an important aspect of translation. And the notion that Izuku is being polite and respectful here as a Japanese person is just such a...take. Izuku is being hella rude here lol. Japan itself, not just the MHA Japan but REAL WORLD Japan, notoriously has a bystander problem where people will ignore others who are being harassed because they don't wanna get involved. They won't step in to help nor will they even testify as a witness against others for fear of what it means to speak out and break from the pack. Izuku is quite obviously Horikoshi's direct answer to that phenomenon. He's meant to be an example of the morally correct thing to do, which is to be "rude" in these cases.
So I mean, sure, we can talk about what is lost in translation by the line, "You will let me in." But to me what's lost may just be grammatical and pedantic (like the passive voice that switches the onus of action onto Tomura instead of Izuku and what that may do to the focus on Izuku's rise to action here). In any case, it's not a BAD translation that changes Izuku's perceived politeness, just one that may prompt new discussion--and I don't think that's a bad thing.
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[“Turns out that being a lesbian outside of the privacy of your own home was quite hard. I’m not talking about the various manifestations of homophobia—oh, that old thing. I’m talking about scoring. Picking up chicks. (As it turns out, I would come to prefer the type of woman few would recognize as female, the type who would cheerfully deck you if you called her a chick, but might, if I were lucky, see me as such: a chick, a babe, a femme fox.)
In the oeuvre of Mr. Spillane, being a lesbian seemed so easy, like shooting fish in a barrel. In my favorite lesbian novels, No Blonde is an Island and My Gun is Quick, all a gal had to do was brush up against another woman by the water cooler and, watch out, the sapphic sparks would surely fly. Lesbianism was something any woman could do, no special equipment, messy creams or liquids were required.
But when I walked into my first dyke bar in New York City, I had a rude awakening. It was like transferring to a new high school. No, it was worse than that. A new junior high school. You walk into the class on the first day and everyone turns to stare. Your clothes, your hair, the way you move, it’s all wrong. You have to change everything or die a horrible and lingering death.
I guess the moral of this story is that there are some pursuits, such as lesbianism, that one can’t learn from a book, no matter the author. A more crass sort might make some tasteless jokes at this juncture about “boning up” on lesbianism, or about “hands-on experience,” but the reader can be assured this dyke will not sink to that level.
I watched the other women dancing, talking, flirting. All transactions were conducted in a lingo as incomprehensible to me as straight guy sports speak. My late-seventies disco fever look was out of place here. Everyone looked like they’d raided the closet of their bigger, older brother while he was out repairing refrigerators.
I was the only one wearing makeup.
Someone approached me: “This is a gay bar.” I shriveled up and a gust of wind blew me out into the street.
I had no skills. No lesbian skills. I was stared at, rather than cruised, at the bars. I couldn’t find a way of singnaling to another dyke that I was open for business, a friend of Dorothy, in the life, on the bus. Let alone desperately horny.
Somehow I managed a few invites to lesbian parties. I’d figured out that wearing lipstick was wrong, but I was still doing it. I’m such a congenital WASP that my lips disappear without makeup; I couldn’t imagine having sex without lipstick. I had tried to pull a lesbian look together: oversized second-hand men’s clothes, an unbuttoned black vest, but Annie Hall does not work on someone five feet tall.
Nor could I play softball. When something is thrown at me, even if it is specifically designed for that purpose, I automatically duck. All I had going for me in the lesbian skill department was ownership of a cat. Enough to break the ice, but not cinch the deal.
Certainly I couldn’t just come out and ask some other dyke to show me the ropes, so to speak. The seventies were still going on even though it was now the eighties. Feminism and lesbianism had kind of merged, become one big multinational entity with Andrea Dworkin as CEO. You had to be sneaky to get laid.
Yikes. It had been so easy with men. All you had to do was bend over at the bowling alley and something would happen.
After two years, the drought ended. I saw a sign that advertised: “Double-X-Rated Christmas Party for Women.” The party was held in the basement of a Catholic church. Perhaps the priests had passed out upstairs and had no idea what was going on. Or perhaps the priests were the drag queens working the bar. Nevertheless, I was there as soon as the doors opened. And the doors were not the only thing that opened.
I walked into the basement where the party was taking place and saw rows of thrift store tuxedoes, second-hand prom dresses. The doorperson made it clear that these outfits could be borrowed for the evening. After they checked their coats, many party-goers were borrowing outfits from the racks and disappearing into the bathroom to amend their attire. As the evening went on, I noticed more and more women trading in their flannel and denim for sharkskin and taffeta.
At this, my first encounter with the women who produced the WOW Festival and would later open the WOW Cafe in a tiny linguini-shaped storefront on East Eleventh Street, I fell in love. In love with all of the women, with their outrageousness, their unruly desire. I wanted desperately to be a part of whatever it was they were doing…if the WOW Cafe had been a support group for lesbian skeet shooters, that’s what I’d be doing now.
Instead, I found theater, or it found me. And the theater, it seemed, offered a wonderful solution to my involuntary celibacy: the casting couch. In theater you are encouraged to have sex with as many people as possible; it’s an integral part of the process. At least at WOW it seemed like the shows were almost an afterthought to the flirting, a byproduct of the endless parties where women of every imaginable gender rubbed up against each other.
This last paragraph reads like a natural cue to cross-fade to the Story of the First Girlfriend, doesn’t it? At this point, I should see a stranger across a crowded room, our eyes should lock, and the violins should swell like wieners on the grill. But this scene isn’t part of my coming-out story. Who even remembers my first girlfriend? Not me. I remember lots of bodies, I remember rooms lit by lots of small lights, and above all else, I remember lots and lots of Rolling Rock. This movie doesn’t end with a soft-focus closeup on two women kissing; this is a coming-out story that crescendos into a crowd scene. It’s a wide-angle shot. The climax of my coming-out scenario isn’t a closeup on a lesbian couple but a panorama of a lesbian world.”]
holly hughes, from what comes first, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000
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Hello!! I'm back for: more whining about TotK Quest Design Philosophy
I can't reblog a really great post I just saw for some reason (tumblrrrr *shakes my fist*), but hmmmm yeah not only do I completely agree, but I think I might expand on why I feel so much annoyance towards TotK's quest design philosophy at some point, because it does extend past the fundamentally broken setup of trying to punch a pseudo-mystery game on top of BotW's bones, where the core objective was always explicit and centered and stapled the entire world together; or the convoluted and inefficient way it tells its story through the Tears, the somehow single linear exploration-driven quest in the entire game.
Basically: I'm talking about the pointless back-and-forths. There were a lot of them, a lot that acted against the open world philosophy, and almost none of them ever recontextualized the environment through neither gameplay abilities nor worldbuilding nor character work.
I'll take two examples: the initial run to Hyrule Castle (before you get your paraglider), and then the billion back-and-forths in the Zora questline.
I think?? the goal of that initial quest to Hyrule Castle is to familiarize you with the landmark, introduce the notion that weapons rot, tell you about the gloom pits, and also tell you that Zelda sightings are a thing? But to force any of these ideas on you before giving you a paraglider is, in my opinion, pretty unnecessary. I think the reason it happens in that order is to prevent Link from simply pummeling down to the gloom pit under Hyrule Castle and fight Ganondorf immediately while still introducing ideas surrounding the location; but genuinely, the Zelda sighting makes the next events even more confusing? Why wouldn't you focus all your priorities in reaching the castle if you just saw her there? Why lose time investigating anything else? Genuinely: what is stopping you from getting your paraglider and immediately getting yourself back there, plunging into the depths to try and get to the literal bottom of this? (beyond player literacy assuming this is where the final boss would be, and so not to immediately spoil yourself --which, in an open world game, you should never be able to spoil yourself by engaging with the mechanics normally, and if you can that's a genuine failure of design)
I think, personally, that you should not have been pointed to go there at all. That anything it brings to the table, you could have learned more organically by investigating yourself, or by exploring in that direction on your own accord --or, maybe you think Zelda is up there in the castle, and then the region objectives become explicitely about helping you reaching that castle (maybe by building up troops to help you in a big assault, or through the Sages granting you abilities to move past level-design oriented hurdles in your way, etc). Either way: no need to actually make you walk the distance and back, because the tediousness doesn't teach you anything you haven't already learned about traversal in the (extremely long, btw, needlessly so I would say) tutorial area.
But to take another example, I'll nitpick at a very specific moment in the Zora Questline, that is honestly full of these back-and-forth paddings that recontextualize absolutely nothing and teach you nothing you didn't already know. The most egregious example, in my opinion, is the moment where you are trying to find the king, and you have to learn by listening in to the zora children who do not let you listening in.
So okay. I think Zelda is great when it does whimsy, and children doing children things guiding you is a staple of the series, and a great one at that. But here? It does not work for me on any level. Any tension that could arise from the situation flattens because nobody seems to care enough about their king disappearing in the middle of a major ecological crisis, except for children who are conveniently dumb enough not to graps the severity of the situation, but not stressed out enough that it could be construed as a way for them to cope about it and make anything feel more serious or pressing. It feels like a completely arbitrary blocker that isn't informed by the state of the world, doesn't do anything interesting gameplay-wise with this idea, doesn't build up the mood, and genuinely feels like busywork for its own sake.
This is especially tragic when the inherent concept of "the zora king has been wounded by what most zoras would believe to be Zelda and is hiding from his own people so the two factions do not go to war over it" has such tension and interest and spark that the game absolutely refuse to explore --instead having you collect carved stones who do not tell you anything new, splatter water in a floating island, thrud through mud who feel more like an inconvenience than a threat or, hey, listen to children playing about their missing king less than a couple of years after being freed from Calamity Ganon's menace. It feels like level designers/system designers having vague technical systems that are hard-coded in the game now, and we need to put them to use even if it's not that interesting, not that fun or not that compelling. It's the sort of attitude that a lot of western RPGs get eviscerated for; but here, for some reason, it's just a case of "gameplay before story", instead of, quite simply, a case of poorly thought-out gameplay.
Not every quest in the game is like this! I think the tone worked much better in the sidequests overall, that are self-contained and disconnected from the extremely messy main storyline, and so can tell a compelling little tale from start to finish without the budget to make you waddle in a puddle of nothing for hours at a time. It's the only place where you actually get character arcs that are allowed to feel anything that isn't a variation on "very determined" or "curious about the zonai/ruins", and where you get to feel life as it tries to blossom back into a new tomorrow for Hyrule.
But if I'm this harsh about the main storyline, it really is because I find it hard to accept that we do not criticize a structure that is at times so half-assed that you can almost taste employees' burnout seeping through the cracks --the lack of thematic ambition and self-reflection and ingeniosity outside of system design and, arguably at times, level design-- simply because it's Hyrule and we're happy to be there.
There's something in the industry that is called the "wow effect", which is their way to say "cool" without saying "cool". It's basically the money shots, but for games: it's what makes you go "ohhhh" when you play. And it's great! The ascension to the top of the Ark was one of them --breathtaking, just an absolute high point of systems working together to weave an epic tale. You plummeting from the skies to the absolute depths of hell is another one; most of the dungeons rely on that factor to keep your attention; the entire Zelda is a dragon storyline is nothing but "wow effect" (and yeah, the moment where you do remove the Master Sword did give me shivers, I'll admit to this willingly) and so is Ganondorf's presence and presentation in the game --he's here to be cool, non-specifically mean, hateable in a non-threatening way and to give us a good sexy time, do not think about it too hard. What bothers me is that TotK's world has basically nothing to offer but "wow effect"; that if you bother to dig at anything it presents you for more than a second, everything crumbles into incoherence --not only in story, but in mood, in themes, in identity. This is a wonderfully fun game with absolutely nothing to say, relying on the cultural osmosis and aura of excellency surrounding Zelda to pass itself off as meatier than it really is. This is what I say when I criticize it as self-referential to a fault; half of the story makes no sense if this is your first Zelda game, and what little of that world there is tends to be deeply unconcerned and uncurious about itself.
And no, Breath of the Wild wasn't like this. Breath of the Wild was deeply curious about itself; the entire game was built off curiosity and discovery, experimentation and challenge (and I say this while fully admitting I had more fun with the loop of TotK, which I found more forgiving overall). The traversal in Tears of the Kingdom is centered around: how do I skip those large expanses of land in the most efficient and fun way possible. How do I automate these fights. How do I find resources to automate both traversal and fights better. It's a game that asks questions (who are the zonais, who is Rauru and what is his deal, what is the Imprisoning War about, where is Zelda), and then kind of doesn't really care about the answers (yeah the zonais are like... guys, they did a cool kingdom, Rauru used to run it, the Imprisoning War is literally whatever all you have to care about is who to feel sad for and who to kill about it and you don't get a choice and certainly cannot feel any ambiguous feelings about any of that, and Zelda is a dragon but we will never expand on how it felt for her to make such a drastic and violent choice and also nobody cares that's a plot point you could *remove* from the game without changing the golden path at all).
I'm so aggravated by the argument "in Zelda, it's gameplay before story" because gameplay is story. That's the literal point of my work as a narrative designer: trying to breach the impossibly large gap between what the game designers want to do, and what the writers are thinking the game will be about (it's never the same game). And in TotK, the game systems are all about automation and fusion. It's about practicality and efficiency. It's also about disconnecting stuff from their original purpose as you optimize yourself out of danger, fear, or curiosity --except for the way you can become even more efficient. And sure, BotW was about this too; but you were rewarded because you had explored the world in the first place, experimented enough, put yourself in danger, went to find out the story of who you used to be and why you should care about Hyrule. I'm not here to argue BotW was a well-written game; I think it was pretty tropey at large to be honest, safe for a couple of moments of brilliance, but it had a coherent design vision that rewarded your curiosity while never getting in the way of the clarity of your objective. There is a convolutedness to TotK that, to me, reveals some extremely deep-seated issues with the direction the series is heading towards; one that, at its core, cares more about looking the part of a Zelda game than having any deeper conversation about what a Zelda game should be.
#thoughts#tloz#totk#totk critical#when will my brain return from the imprisoning war...#quest design#game design#level design#game criticisim#I think the more time goes on and the more uncomfortable I am with “if the game is fun it's good”#sometimes the game is fun and the game is empty#fun games can be addictive and predatory on purpose#(not saying totk is but it is well known that fun is not a neutral feeling)#fun can also reinforce questionable ideas of what “fun” should even look like#*side-eying CoD and co*#and fun =/= coherent always#if we're talking about games like artpieces#then you don't get to pick and choose which parts matter and which parts don't#you can absolutely say “I resonated with it for X and Y” but to make an argument that people who feel uncomfortable by content#that is in the game!! put in the game!! on purpose!!#is not a very productive attitude let's say
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Absence//Fonder Pt. 2
Summary: The boys surprise you with a trip to your home world and a vocabulary lesson.
Pairing: The Bad Batch x medic fem!reader (pronouns she/her, no physical descriptions, no y/n, pet names)
Warnings: Crosshair, angst (not much I swear!), fluff so sweet you’ll need your dentist, sweet kisses ( the smut happens in chapter 3 😏) but MINORS DNI
Written while listening to “Tell Her You Love Her” by Echosmith
Series playlist can be found here!
Part 1 Part 3
Word count: 3132
Crosshair had been called many things in his life. Talented, cocky, aloof to name a few. No one had ever called him a coward though. It was in his very nature to look at the impossible and find a way.
The odds didn’t matter.
He and his brothers had faced forces that would have given much larger squads pause, and they’d never hesitated. Never felt like they couldn’t get the job done.
Yet there he was, stomach twisted into knots, muscles in his legs twitching with the desire to bolt, afraid. Not afraid of a battalion of clankers, rollies, and spiders.
No. He was afraid of a nat born medic, who clutched Wrecker’s arm like a lifeline during turbulence. A medic who could sew up her own wounded leg without batting an eye, but would discharge her blaster at the sight of an insect. A medic who was the epitome of soft, yet had the power to crush him in the palm of her hand.
He’d never told anyone he cared for them, nor had he asked anyone what they felt for him. Quite frankly he didn’t give a fuck. The fleeting attentions of strangers, whose names he would forget immediately, had been more than enough to scratch the well-concealed itch for a semblance of connection.
Now, you were ruining him without even trying. Punching a hole straight through his carefully crafted armor. Making him weak.
And in a few moments, depending on your reaction, you could break all five of them. Clone Force 99 could be brought to its knees by you in a single instant.
He watched his brothers as they led you towards the location Tech had chosen. Excitement radiated off of you like a sun’s rays. He would never admit it, but he was dying to be wrong this time. He wanted to believe that you could love them. That you could love him.
Blindfolded, you were unable to see the looks of hope and affection etched onto their shared features. You were simply excited for another adventure with them. Hunter’s hands rested securely on your shoulders with your hands over them.
The sergeant had woken you up upon landing with a bandana in hand.
“We’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, as you got dressed.
“Really?” you asked, mind racing as you tried to imagine what it was. It wasn’t your birthday, their decant day, or any other holiday. Not that it mattered. The fact that the five of them had formed a plan to surprise you damn near made your brain short circuit. That showed a level of care and consideration you had rarely even received from people you were seriously dating.
“Yep, gotta make sure you don’t peek though,” he said waving the bandana.
You resisted the urge to make a filthy joke about being tied up for them and instead turned so Hunter could tie the bandana on. The world went dark, and you took a nervous breath until you felt Hunter’s hands on your shoulders, and you relaxed. He would never let anything happen to you.
“Where’s my bucket?” You asked, suddenly feeling naked without it.
“You won’t need it here,” Hunter said, steering you towards the door.
“Is this some kind of initiation thing?” you asked, breaking the silence. “Testing my bravery to prove I’m one of you?”
Wrecker snorted, “That’s a pretty good idea! We could dangle you over a cliff by your ankle?”
“If I don’t scream, I’m in?” You asked with a giggle.
“Grow up, you two,” Crosshair said, and you swore you could hear him rolling his eyes.
“…yes.” Wrecker whispered in answer to your question, setting off more giggles.
“We’ve got a little hike coming up, so one of us will carry you,” Hunter said, as you all came to a stop.
Even blindfolded you knew where all of them were by their steps. You reached for Wrecker, but Hunter caught your hand.
“Wrecker’s got his hands full,” Hunter said, and you could hear a smile in his voice. It made your stomach flip with excitement.
“Ooooh, the plot thickens.” You stepped forward and instead found Tech’s shoulders, wrapping your arms around him. You made a soft noise of surprise, as he grabbed your thighs, and hoisted you off the ground easily.
“Are you comfortable?” Tech asked.
“Yes, sir,” you reply, face pressed against the side of Tech’s helmet.
You hum softly, listening to the sound of your squads’ steps, mind conjuring all sorts of fantastic scenarios for what they could have planned.
It was quiet and warm, and you could hear their boots crunching over dry ground, so you knew you weren’t on Kamino. You had been sleeping for the majority of the trip, and blindfolded before stepping off of the ship, so you couldn’t use the stars for clues.
You hummed softly as the trek continued, occasionally grinning when Wrecker would chuckle at some joke from Echo you couldn’t quite make out. You were close to beginning a round of “Are we there yet?” when Tech stopped, and slowly released his grip on your thighs.
“We have arrived at our intended destination,” he said, as you got your feet under yourself after several minutes of being carried.
Hunter removed the bandana, and you looked around. A small city twinkled in the valley below your position atop a massive hill. You looked to the rich blue night sky above, and connected the stars. Your brow furrowed a moment before the realization hit you. You were home…well, your home world. Home was the Marauder now. A lump formed in your throat, and tears pooled in your eyes.
“You brought me home?” You asked, turning to face them, smiling even as the tears poured down your face.
“We missed you, and we thought this would be a good welcome home surprise,” Echo said.
“It was Hunter’s idea,” Tech supplied.
“Oh, Hunter, this is perfect!” You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest. “Thank you.”
Hunter held you close a moment, before releasing you slowly to smile down at you.
“This is a pretty special spot, you know?” You asked tucking your arms behind your back and rising up on the balls of your feet.
“Yes, I selected it for that very reason. The local population has designated this as a place to share important news with loved ones,” Tech said, clearly proud of himself.
“Right as always, Tech,” you beamed at him. “Planning to share some news?”
“Actually we thought today might be a nice day to teach you some Mando’a, so you know what we’re saying to you,” Hunter said nodding towards Wrecker, who took a deep breath and stepped up to take your hands.
“Finally!” You cheered, buzzing with excitement.
A bright smile lit up your features as you looked up at him. He smiled warmly, eyes roaming your face. You’d only been gone a couple of weeks, but Wrecker had missed you fiercely every moment.
“Well, we call you ‘mesh’la’ cause it means beautiful. Easy to see why. You are beautiful inside and out,” Wrecker said before taking you gently by your arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Your heart jumped and your breath hitched. You cleared your throat and said, “I knew I liked that one.”
He smiled warmly, and stepped to the side, gently guiding you to Echo, who took one of your hands next. He rested his scomplink against your waist, and you held his bicep, as you beamed expectantly at him.
“We call you ‘saraad’ because it means flower. You make every place you’re in brighter, more alive.” Echo kissed your forehead, and you felt anticipation buzzing in your chest. Your heart beat faster than before, as Tech took his place before you could even react.
“Senaar’ika means little bird. You are always eager to take flight whether you are ready or not. Brave, reckless to be certain, but brave nonetheless,” straight to the point as ever, Tech pressed a kiss to your cheek.
You released a shuddering breath, your face warming up under their gentle affections. Am I dreaming? You thought, now scared to move or speak for fear of breaking the spell they were weaving around you.
Hunter hesitated only a moment before resting a hand on your waist, as the other cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your cheekbone. Your eyes met his, as you placed your hands on his chest and held your breath.
“‘Cyare’ is one you’ve heard more and more lately. The closest word in basic is beloved,” Hunter said, and you knew he’d heard your heart skip a beat before racing away.
“You’re special to us, and we want to keep you close…closer,” Hunter took a deep breath, his warm brown eyes held yours. “We’ve fallen for you, and we hope that’s ok. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”
“You’ve fallen for me? I-, I…I can’t even…” you stammered, simultaneously thrilled and confused. You took a deep breath, lifting one hand to rest over his against your face, the other sliding up to caress his face.
“Is it ok, if I kiss you now?” He asked. You nodded immediately.
He smiled and leaned down to press his lips to yours. You didn’t wake up. His arm wrapped around your waist, and you knew it was real. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours.
“Been wanting to do that for awhile now,” he confessed.
“That makes two of us…or maybe 6 of us,” you said with a nervous laugh.
You’d thought of no less than a dozen different scenarios when Hunter had blindfolded you, but you never imagined this could be a possibility. Not even in your wildest dreams did you allow yourself to believe that the 5 amazing men standing before you could care for you the way you cared for them.
There’s a relieved sigh from behind Hunter, and you leaned around him to see Crosshair properly. His eyes were taking you in much like he had upon your return. Drinking you in while he figured out what to say. You looked up at Hunter, and he nodded, stepping back to give you a path to Crosshair. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the sniper.
For the first time since you met him, you reached for Crosshair, taking hold of him with confidence. Your eyes met his, a light smile playing on your lips.
“Any special words you wanna teach me, Crosshair?” You asked, hoping your voice was steady.
“You already know my favorite word for you. The one that’s been going through my mind since you left,” Crosshair said quietly, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.
“And what word would that be?” you asked, moving closer to let your lips brush his.
“Mine,” he said before closing the distance between you, kissing you with relief. The first kiss had been almost hesistant, as a part of him was sure he was stealing affection that wasn’t meant for him. But it was meant for him. You wanted him…all of them. You weren’t running away or pulling back. You were in his arms, holding him close like he belonged to you.
Wrecker cleared his throat noisily, and Crosshair broke the kiss to give him a look.
“Just for that, you can go last,” Crosshair sneered, guiding you towards Tech, who pulled you close and let his arms settle comfortably around your waist. Just like before your arms rested over his shoulders, this time your fingers carded gently through his hair.
“I hope that you will be willing to answer a few questions for me, senaar’ika. I have been compiling data for quite some time, and despite today’s success, I still have some theories to test in order to draw definitive conclusions.”
“I’ll indulge your experiments, if you’ll indulge mine,” you said with a mysterious little smile.
“Well, of course, I am more than happy to assist in the pursuit of knowledge,” Tech replied. Happy with your response he leaned in to brush his lips softly over yours. You whined, wanting more, and he pressed closer, letting you feel his need for you. Tech’s kiss was just like him, a curious exploration that left you giddy.
He pulled back, and opened his mouth to say more, but Wrecker cut him off, “Maker, Tech, you can talk her ear off later. We’ve still got another thing to give her!”
“Despite the rudeness of his delivery, Wrecker is correct. We do have another surprise for you,” Tech said, releasing you slowly, as Echo moved close to pull you into his arms.
“I almost slipped up and kissed you last night, so I may need to make up for that,” Echo said, before kissing you slow and deep. You were so sure your heart was actually going to break its way out of your ribcage if they kept going at this rate.
“Stars, Echo, I can think of a few more things for you to make up,” you said breathlessly, as he pulled back with a grin.
“Finally!” Wrecker said, spinning you around and scooping you up into his arms to press the softest kiss of all to your lips. He handled you with such care and affection, you couldn’t help but sigh happily against his lips.
“Kriff me, if I’d known this would happen, I’d have left sooner,” you said with a laugh, as Wrecker set you back down on your feet.
“Well, no more running off to help Cody because we missed you too much,” Wrecker said, caressing your face gently.
“I promise I won’t be doing that again for quite some time,” you confessed.
“Good, because Cross here, was worse than usual,” Hunter teased.
Crosshair scowled and folded his arms. “Just tell her the next surprise.”
“You belong with us no matter what, so Crosshair gave your helmet a little update,” Echo said from just beyond Wrecker, where Hunter and Tech had set up a fire, and a tent. You suspected that’s what had kept Wrecker’s hands full.
Echo straightened up and passed you your bucket. You looked down at it, and a smile slowly spread across your face. A tiny skull and a 99 now adorned your helmet like a kiss on the cheek.
“Cross, you did this for me?” You asked, turning to the sniper. It was difficult to tell in the low light, you could have sworn he was blushing.
“We thought you might like it,” Hunter said.
“I love it.”
***
The six of you gathered around a happily crackling fire, as you finally answered all of their questions about your time away. Crosshair watched you with rapt attention, appreciating all of your little quirks, as you discussed the missions you’d participated in, including the one that had resulted in your injury.
“Still pissed you got shot. Not surprised though. That always happens with regs,” Wrecker said, tightening his hold on your waist, as he held you to his side.
“Hey!” Echo said, leaning around you and gesturing to himself. “I’d never let her get shot.”
“You know I don’t mean you, Echo,” Wrecker said dismissively.
“It’s just a scratch, boys,” you laughed. “There’s barely even a scar.”
“We sent you to Commander Cody with no scratches, and we expected you to come back in the same condition,” Crosshair said gesturing at you with a toothpick.
“Though I would have chosen a less objectifying way to phrase it, I agree with Crosshair,” Tech said, looking up from his datapad. “I would have thought you would be in excellent hands with our Marshal Commander, and not in a position to take damage from a sniper.”
“Awwww, did Cody let your favorite toy get all scuffed? You want a new one?” You asked with a teasing lilt to your voice.
Crosshair shook his head slowly. Tech looked offended at the suggestion.
“And have to break in another one?” Hunter interjected. “No way. You’re stuck with us now.”
“Oh no,” you gasped in mock anguish. “Whatever shall I do? Stuck with my favorite people in the galaxy. Torture.”
You draped yourself dramatically over Wrecker’s legs, much to his amusement. His hearty laughter rumbled out of his chest, as he pulled you close to his chest, so you were sitting in his lap.
“Your favorite people? In the whole galaxy?” He asked, his mismatched eyes full of hope as they focused on yours.
“Absolutely. You have been for awhile,” you confessed. “I hated being away from all of you.” You looked around the fire at each of them before bringing your focus back to Wrecker. “I mean it. I don’t wanna do that again for a good long while.”
Satisfied, Wrecker cupped your face and brought his lips to yours again. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt yourself relax against him. His lips moved over yours with a gentle confidence that made you hum low in your throat, and press closer to him.
You broke the kiss, as a yawn forced its way out of you. You were still absolutely exhausted. The thrill of their confession had given you the sweetest sugar high, and you were crashing.
“You require rest,” Tech said, “I will take first watch.”
“I’ll take it,” Crosshair said, shooting a glance at Hunter, who had covered him the night before. He’d gotten you all to himself for several hours, and he knew the others were itching to snuggle with you. He was too relieved to be selfish. For now.
You stood up and stretched, reaching for the sky you’d grown up under before wandering over to Crosshair and kneeling down to press a soft kiss to his lips.
“Come snuggle with me soon,” you whispered.
He nodded, as he watched you rise and make your way into the tent.
“We’ll keep you company, Cross,” Wrecker said with a grin, as Tech and Echo followed you into the tent, and Hunter relaxed on his back to look up at the stars.
“Oh goody,” the sniper replied with a halfhearted roll of his eyes.
***
You’d worried it would be awkward, but going to sleep between Tech and Echo felt as natural as breathing. Echo spooned up behind you, your face against Tech’s chest. The three of you chatted quietly for a little while, while their hands moved over your body absently.
You began to drift in and out of consciousness, despite your desire to stay awake and enjoy their presence.
“Sleep, saraad,” Echo commanded gently. “We’ll all be here in the morning.”
“Promise?” You asked sleepily, as you nuzzled against Tech.
“Promise,” He said, wrapping his arm around your waist.
Warm and safe, you left yourself drift away.
tagging: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream @mythical-illustrator @the1sunshine1girl @stardusthuntress @thebahdbitch @wings-and-beskar @arctrooper69 @golden-nyx-ghost @iloveallmenandwomen @rexxdjarin @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @ceraryn09 @skellymom @808tsuika
#series: Absence//Fonder#chapter 2: Tell Her You Love Her#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x you#tbb hunter#tbb hunter x reader#tbb wrecker#tbb wrecker x reader#tbb tech#tbb tech x reader#tbb crosshair#tbb crosshair x reader#tbb echo#tbb echo x reader#the bad batch fanfiction#star wars fanfiction#star wars the bad batch#reader insert#x reader#seven writes
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yandere october 2023 event day 2
“lock”
you were not a criminal. despite your many faults, it was one of the things you could be confident in. of course, you wouldn’t say you’re the most innocent person on earth nor that you were any kind of saint, however you were, at the very least, not a criminal. and certainly not on any level that would cause the hunting dogs to be after you. so why were you being treated like some kind of terrorist?
innocent civilians don’t get chained up and monitored by a member of the military. so maybe there was some sort of alternative explanation. one that an ordinary person like you wouldn’t automatically think of. one that would make more sense. maybe you had been framed. framed for something really, really bad. so bad that the government didn’t even want to risk taking you in normally and had to come in and abducted you like this. once you could talk to that military officer you'd seen, you could explain everything to him. it would all be annoying, sure. having to wait through a trial while you proved you weren’t guilty for… whatever this was would be a terrible waste of time. but at the very least you’d get out of it relatively soon. maybe you would even be compensated for the emotional damage.
thoughts like that calmed you down. they always did. coming up with rational explanations of the irrational and unexplainable never failed to mollify you in stressful situations. with a few deep breaths, your heart stopped racing and you were done panicking. all you had to do was wait for him to talk to you and you would explain everything.
you didn’t have to wait very long.
you had no more than a total of twenty more seconds to yourself before the silence was broken by the sound of a door creaking. you shifted, turning your body in the direction of whoever had entered the chamber that laid somewhere between the line of a bedroom and a cell. his presence was overwhelming. he was tall, and you being seated on the ground did nothing to help how he loomed over you. despite how his eyes remained closed, you could tell all his attention was hooked on you, all his senses piercing through your soul. your breath hitched. all the words you had been planning out left your mind and you felt yourself freeze.
“hello” he smiled at you when he spoke. a smile far softer, far more dissarming than it had any right to be.
like a deer caught in headlights, you couldn’t bring even your mouth to move. instead you stared up at him with wide eyes. too scared to even attempt to respond. all the calming yourself down had been for naught, it seemed. because just looking up at the man had sent you right back to square one.
“no ‘hi’ back? that’s a little rude, don’t you think?” he tilted his head just barely. an action too innocent for someone so innately threatening.
your mouth opened and closed repeatedly but no sound came out. you tried your best to mold your words into some kind of apology, but you just couldn’t manage. he noticed this and laughed at you.
“seems you're a little worked up. not to worry, you’re safe here.”
“i’m- i’m not a criminal!” finally your mouth gave way to movement and you managed to blurt out the words.
“i know that.” he didn’t miss a beat before the words fell from his mouth.
and suddenly you were cold. because with only three words he had thrown out any little bits of rationalization you had managed to scrounge up. you were back to square one with no idea as to what was happening. not an inkling to the man’s motivation or intentions.
then he smiled as if he could read your mind. a knowing edge clung to the faint smirk which was smeared across his face.
“you’re not a criminal, and thus you’re not being detained. do you know what that means?”
his grin widened as he leaned down, closer to your level but still towering above you. after a short beat of silence he continued.
“it means that even the law can’t save you from this prison. there will be no proving of your innocence, because i already know you are innocent. you aren’t here for legal affairs, no, this is… personal.”
“personal? i don’t even know you!” your voice betrayed more of your genuine fear and uncertainty than you’d have liked it to.
“then how about we change that? because i know you, very well in fact.” he gave the words a second to sink in and for you to reach your own conclusions. “you may call me jouno. from this point forward, you’re officially mine.”
#my bad for forgetting about these guys i’ll try to wrap this event up this month 😭😭#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#yandere bsd#yandere bsd x reader#bsd x you#yandere bungou stray dogs#yandere bungo stray dogs#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader#yandere jouno x reader#jouno saigiku#bsd jouno saigiku#jouno x reader#jouno saigiku x reader
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I Am That remix: Only hold on to 'I AM'
Don’t you see that it is your very search for happiness that makes you feel miserable? If you want to make real progress, you must give up all ideas of personal attainment. Your burden is of false self-identification – abandon them all. All that is needed is to purify the mind so that it can realize its identity with the Self. When the mind merges in the Self, the body presents no problems.
Try it this way: indifferent to pain and pleasure, neither seeking, nor refusing, give all your attention to the level on which ‘I am’ is timelessly present. Just look away from all that happens in your mind and bring it to the feeling ‘I am’. Refuse all thoughts except one: the thought ‘I am’. Just keep in mind the feeling ‘I am’, merge in it, till your mind and feeling become one. Separate consistently and perseveringly the ‘I am’ from ‘this’ or ‘that’ and try to feel what it means to be, just to ‘be’, without being ‘this’ or ‘that’. Give up all ideas about yourself and simply be. Stop making use of your mind and see what happens. Do this one thing thoroughly, that is all. The best is the simple feeling ‘I am’. Dwell on it patiently.
The mind will rebel in the beginning, but with patience and perseverance, it will yield and keep quiet. Here patience is wisdom; don’t think of failure. There can be no failure in this undertaking. By repeated attempts you will stumble on the right balance of attention and affection and your mind will be firmly established in the thought-feeling ‘I am’. When this mind becomes completely silent, it shines with a new light and vibrates with new knowledge. Once you are quiet, things will begin to happen spontaneously and quite naturally, without any interference on your part. Once you realize that all happens by itself (call it destiny or the will of God or mere accident), you remain as witness only, understanding and enjoying, but not perturbed. Whatever you think, say or do, this sense of immutable and affectionate being remains as the ever-present background of the mind. When you can see everything as it is, you will also see yourself as you are. It is like cleansing a mirror. The same mirror that shows you the world as it is will also show you your own face (Self). The thought ‘I am’ is the polishing cloth. Use it. Give your heart and mind to it, think of nothing else.
All the glories will come with mere dwelling on the feeling ‘I am’. It is the simple that is certain, not the complicated. Somehow, people do not trust the simple, the easy, the always available. Why not give an honest trial to what I say? It may look very small and insignificant, but it is like a seed that grows into a mighty tree. Give yourself a chance.
If you want to know your true nature, you must have your Self in mind all the time, until the secret of your being stands revealed. Soon you will realize that peace and happiness are in your very nature and it is only seeking them through some particular channels that disturbs. All will happen by itself. You need not do anything, only don’t prevent it. It all comes spontaneously; you need only to hold on to the ‘I am’. It is very much like digging a well. You reject all that is not water, till you reach the life-giving spring.
from I Am That (mashup of selected quotes from 1 to 79 of "The complete ‘I Am’ quotes of Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj")
#still on break-not back yet#highlight key: purple for 'action' points - pink for key points#excerpts#remix#i am that#nisargadatta maharaj#practical#exercise#witnessing
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