#I’m not even being like. dramatic. we had another employee like that and the store has literally suffered daily since they fired him for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dycefic · 3 years

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Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

#welcome to Evil Mart #good is not just good #evil is not just evil #people are complicated #and so is retail #tw graphic #tw gore #tw violence #tw murder #it's a supervillain story #supervillain shit happens #you are now warned

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lostinthewiind · 3 years

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 3

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Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward.

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you.

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy.

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair.

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park.

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat.

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed.

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different.

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret.

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses.

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish.

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him.

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #keishin #mature #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #part 4 #song fic

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romancingromanoff · 2 years

Text

A Little Bit of Guidance (Alcina Dimitrescu x femme!reader) pt. 1

A less than pleasant shopping experience leads to gay panic and perhaps something more.

Part 2

Author’s Note: I’M BACK BITCHES AND I’M A BIGGER SIMP THAN EVER! I also have lots of new ideas for Marvel content that I can’t wait to share with y’all. Anyway, I don’t know if any of my followers are Resident Evil fans but who doesn’t want to fantasize about a 9′6″ tall vampire mommy?

Two hours. You’d told your best friend that you would begrudgingly let her drag you along to shop for new professional attire for two hours. But now it was six hours later and you were beginning to realize that your plans for an early evening spent decompressing back at your apartment with some takeout had been completely ruined as soon as you’d said “Fine, but only two hours.”

“We wouldn’t still be out here hunting if you would just buy something for once,” she feigned exhaustion as she handed you yet another overpriced blazer which you were too afraid to check the price of. “I mean this is for your job, you have to buy something!”

“Yes, Maia,” you tried your best to sound as patient as possible. The two of you had been best friends since elementary school when you were both the only two Asian students in your class. Even back then she’d been very skilled at getting you to go along with her ideas. “My new job as a middle school guidance counselor, for which I am being severely underpaid. Now if we could just stick to the clearance section-“

“No!!! This one, AH, it would look perfect on you!” Another blouse hit your face with the tag nearly stabbing you in the eye. Prying it off soon got a look at the price.

“Holy SHIT, Maia, this costs like half of my paycheck. Which I don’t even have yet!”

“Fine!” She half groaned as she flung all the clothes in her arms up in dramatic fashion. “You win. We’ll go look at last season’s leftovers.”

“Oh my God, Maia, before you storm off at least help pick all of this up. I don’t want the employees here to hate us.” As much as you loved your best friend and her theatrical personality you had also worked retail before and knew exactly how difficult it was dealing with customers like her.

“Okay,” she slowly turned around before helping you grab two pairs of pants off the floor. When the last few items were hung back up she met your eyes with a timid half-smile and a look of bargaining on her face. “I’ll cool down if you promise to try on at least three outfits that I pick out for you, please (Y/N)?”

You figured that this was going to be the best possible deal you could get until you stopped yourself and thought of something sweeter. “Alright, it’s a deal IF you buy me churro too.”

“Ugh, fine.”

-~-

Surprisingly, there were a couple of solid staple pieces for your wardrobe that were hiding back in the clearance racks that Maia was ecstatic you showed interest in. Walking your bags back to your car and lazily munching on your churro, you could practically feel your exhaustion weighing your body down and you began to zone out from Maia’s story about some members from her running club as you instinctively headed for the driver’s seat.

“Wait, stop,” Maia turned to you with the most confused look on her face just as you were reaching for the door. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh thank God,” you practically burst into tears. “Are you offering to drive? Because there’s no way that I’m going to be able to get us home without passing out at the wheel.”

“Um, first, it’s only half past 8. I know we’re not in college anymore but this is actually really sad. Second, you only tried on two outfits. I still get to pick out one more!”

“Are you serious?” You asked her but really you already knew she was… Completely. “What other stores are there that you could possibly drag me to?”

“Dimitrescu is two blocks from here.” Just the sound of that name made you almost regurgitate your churro on the spot.

“Maia, neither of us can even afford to walk in there! Hell, their stuff is so expensive they even lock it up when it gets donated to the thrift store. Remember you cried that one time you found one of her vintage dresses at a second-hand shop but it still cost more than your rent?”

“I’m not expecting you to get anything! I’d actually be really pissed if you did and had something from my favorite designer before me. But it doesn’t cost anything to try stuff on!

“It does if we break something.”

“Y/N, I will drive you home and buy you a whole bucket of churros if you just let me do this. It won’t take more than ten minutes I swear.”

Apparently, exhaustion made it really difficult for you to stay assertive because the next thing you knew you were standing outside the most luxurious store you had ever encountered. Dimitrescu looked more like a bank or a museum than a shop with its near blinding lights and crisp marble floors safely guarded behind two very tall men dressed in extravagant black suits that silently opened the doors for you.

“This is incredible!” Maia practically squealed at the sight of all of the perfectly styled pieces of clothing which complemented the minimalist yet elegant gold-accented furniture that looked like it had never been touched. The only thing you could do was silently nod in complete agreement as your eyes caught the image of the most intricate crystal chandelier you had ever seen. It really was like walking into the world of the upper class and a short memory of the last time you had seen your ex-girlfriend interrupted your moment of bliss. She was a lawyer and her law firm had rented out an entire art gallery uptown for some fancy celebration which she had invited you to. At the time you assumed that meant she was serious about you and your relationship might be taking a turn for the better. But by the end of that evening…

Thankfully (or not so thankfully), your flashback was short-lived as one of the workers of the store interrupted your thoughts. “Is there any particular reason you’re here?” A somewhat abrasive voice stopped you and your best friend in your tracks.

“We’re just looking,” Maia innocently responded, thinking nothing of the situation. But you were immediately aware of how defensive the clerk seemed to be as she stood there with her arms crossed and eyes clearly judging the two of you up and down.

“I don’t think this is the type of store you’d be interested in,” she gave you a fake smile and slowly began walking out from behind the counter. When her entire outfit, a sleek white dress suit with matching designer Christian Louboutins, came into view, you suddenly became acutely aware of your appearance. Sure, you weren’t wearing the latest designs from fashion week or anything that really fit the vibe of the store but dressing comfortably to go shopping wasn’t that unheard of. And Maia was never not put together! Maybe neither of you had the budget for this type of place but you would bet that your best friend could dress just as well at a more affordable price.

“Hey, we just came in to look around for a few minutes,” you don’t really care if you sound irritable or tired now. Conflict resolution is definitely something you usually excel in but right now this worker was obviously trying to be rude. Letting her push the both of you around wasn’t in your nature either. “We’ll be off your back soon so you won’t have to do your job for long.”

“That’s my concern. See, we don’t really like people coming in from off the street with no intention of buying anything. It’s just to protect the merchandise.”

Okay. That was definitely meant to offend you.

“Are you implying that we might try to steal something?” You practically scoff after what you hear.

“Um, Y/N?” You feel Maia tug gently on your sleeve and assume she’s trying to drag you away from the situation, but you’re not running this time. Too many times in the past you’d been the one to let people walk all over you just for the sake of appeasement.

“Steal? No, we have security. I just think you and your friend might be able to find something more your speed back in Chinatown.”

Final. Fucking. Straw.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Y/N-“ Maia pulls on your sleeve harder.

“Excuse me,” a deep, melodic voice that you suspected would usually sound more comforting if its owner wasn’t so blatantly irritated suddenly fills the room.. “What is going on here?”

Somehow, and you had no clue why except that maybe the universe was looking to punish you, you found your dumb self in the presence of the most ethereal and intimidating being you had ever seen. And it was no other than the world-famous designer herself. Alcina Dimitrescu.

-~-

For a luxury designer with her own label, there was surprisingly little information on Alcina Dimitrescu known to the public. A quick google search could tell you that she immigrated from Romania two decades ago to study fashion and design in college on some prestigious scholarship from the Miranda Foundation. Her alma mater proudly stated that she had graduated at the top of her class and was a consistent donor to their design program, but as far as any specific classes or clubs she might have participated in during her time there, nothing was to be found on their website. Even her own brand’s website, Dimitrescu, had very little about her personal involvement with the brand and merely stated that she was the founder and CEO. There was also a very brief section that described her original inspiration for her first pieces coming from old Romanian folklore but that was as specific as it got. A few photos from various fashion weeks and other high-scale events would also pop up if you looked up her name but they usually showed her in a group setting or being caught unaware by paparazzi. She was noticeably never smiling in any of them.

Of course, there was gossip that naturally spread across the fashion world but Maia would’ve been much more familiar with those rumors than you ever cared to be. Studying to be a guidance counselor had definitely taught you to form your own opinions on people and take your information straight from the horse’s mouth. Columnists and other media influencers loved to highlight the fact that she was apparently very tall and a few others occasionally framed her as being a stuck-up diva type. But hanging around Maia for most of your life you had soon learned that Miss Dimitrescu had a highly capable public relations and legal team that could pull stories like that straight off the record. There was, however, one specific topic about the lady which you secretly loved to listen to your best friend talk about. While she had never been confirmed to ever have a partner, there was a substantial amount of talk which claimed she definitely preferred to keep women in her company if only for short periods at a time. Alcina Dimitrescu was notoriously known for living behind a closet made of glass and an endless line of women waiting at the door.

Staring back at her at that moment, you definitely couldn’t deny that you wished those rumors concerning her sexuality were true. Everything about her was nothing short of captivating and you could feel your breath hitch in your throat as you desperately tried to take in each and every single detail. Her dark hair was perfectly styled into short intricate curls that perfectly framed the most bright pair of golden eyes you had ever had the pleasure of being enchanted by. Her skin, while quite pale, had a healthy glow to it that accentuated her near flawless face. The only features that really stood out were her distinct smile lines and a few creases around her eyes, though you found them to be mesmerizing in their own right. Perfectly painted deep red lips that made you start to feel weak in the knees tempted you to follow her lower down her slender yet powerful neck. And even further below laid the fullness of her…

When Maia’s elbow pokes into your side it interrupts you from your daze and you quickly become aware of how creepy you must look just ogling the woman in front of you. It wasn’t just embarrassing to be caught blatantly staring but on top of that you’d nearly forgotten about the situation you were supposed to be dealing with. You try to jerk your head to find the pompous worker who had made the racist comment but you’re immediately met with a sharp pain running through your neck from the motion. It was almost as if your body was physically punishing itself for gaping so freely at the Lady and losing track of what was important.

“Lady Dimitrescu, I didn’t realize you were still here!” The worker goes completely pale and you realize that she’s just as surprised as you are. For a moment you begin to question how a person so tall was able to sneak up on the three of you with only Maia noticing but you drop it fairly quickly. “These guests were just leaving.”

“How dim-witted do you think me to be?” The lady’s voice roared with an innate tone of authority and you were grateful it wasn’t being directed at you. “I don’t know which is more insulting. Is it your racism and disgusting behavior? Or perhaps it’s the fact that you assumed you’d get away with it?”

“My lady I-“ It was like watching a wounded animal beg for its life at the feet of a starving lion. The words were practically meaningless. Her fate was already sealed and she was just awaiting digestion.

“You will no longer be working for this company or any other respectable designer for that matter. I shall see to it myself that you never do. The only reason why I haven’t thrown you out of this establishment yet is because you WILL apologize to the two customers you have treated so horrifically before grabbing your things and running home with your tail between your legs like the creature you are.”

“Please,” you could hear her choking on her own tears. “If you would just let me explain-“

“NOW!”

“I’m so sorry,” she squeaks at a level that’s barely audible and you have a split second to see the exact look of fear she has in her swelling eyes. It leaves you feeling somewhat conflicted. A part of you is relieved that she’s actually being held accountable for her actions but you also doubt that she actually feels remorse. The sad excuse of an apology she gave was most likely just said so she wouldn’t further upset her now former employer. It contained no real substance to it and you were certain that her bitter feelings towards you were now only going to get worse. Still, it was a better outcome than others you had experienced in the past.

When Lady Dimitrescu finally turns to you she can see the absolute mess of emotions that you’re juggling. “Please, you shouldn’t feel bad for her-“

“I don’t,” you interrupt her quickly, not wanting to give off the impression that you’re upset by the lady’s decision. “She was completely over the line. I’m just glad that you actually did something about it. Most people don’t care enough to intervene in these types of situations. My friend and I are pretty used to just dealing with those types of people on our own.”

The frown she wears on her face is almost heartbreaking but it shows you how genuine her sympathy is. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for how awfully she treated the two of you. She was simply grotesque. Along with a formal apology from myself I insist that you and your friend both take home the entire Fall collection or any other number of items from my store that you might prefer otherwise.”

“You’re joking, right?!” You’ve never seen Maia this dumbfounded before while sober. She looks like she would combust on the spot if she were physically capable of doing so and you feel a small smile creep back to your face. Now that your best friend had gotten a chance to speak you knew the levee walls were no match for the flood of words she was about to unleash. “I’m just, oh my God, wow! Thank you so so so much Lady Dimitrescu. And can I just say that your work literally inspires me everyday? I mean I can’t even believe I’m meeting you! Is this really happening? This stuff like never happens to me! Well, actually dealing with bs from people like that woman isn’t too uncommon. I swear white women just have the audacity sometimes. Not that you’re one of those, uh, white women! You seem like one of the good ones. Oh shit, that probably didn’t sound right did it? Anyway, please forgive me for all of that babble and for my friend’s staring. I’m sure she didn’t mean it in a ‘ah, you’re so tall that’s crazy!’ type of way. She probably just meant it in a ‘wow I’m definitely a lesbian’ way. She’ll never admit it but she’s always had a weakness for tall women so-“

“I think what my friend is trying to say is she’s a big fan of your work and is just grateful for your generosity and character that you’ve shown both of us!” The awkward laugh that your body lets out makes you sound like a deflating balloon and it makes you almost regret not throwing your hand over Maia’s talking hole.

Much to your surprise Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t look all that phased by your comments and continues to express a polite smile. You think you might also see a bit of amusement in her eyes but then the second you realize you’re staring at her again you freak out and try to shake yourself out of her hold.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” Goddamnit her voice is way too soothing. “I’m extremely mortified by what’s happened here today so it is the very least I can do. Amira, would you please help these women look around the store and find them their correct sizes?” Another worker that you assume is Amira immediately appears at the call of her name.

“Oh my God I’ve never been sized for Dimitrescu clothes before! I’m usually a size 8 or 10 depending on the brand but I’m not sure what I’d be here.” Maia practically rushes off with Amira before she can even process what was happening, poor her, which just left…..

“You two seem very different. But I’m assuming you’ve known each other for quite some time?” You practically curse to yourself at the mere sound of her voice. She’s being perfectly polite aside from that hint of playfulness that rings in your ear. It gives away her slight sense of amusement.

“Yes and yes,” you try to look at her like a normal person but can already feel your face heating up. “We grew up together but Maia’s always been a lot more familiar with all of this,” you generally gesture to your surroundings hoping that she’ll get your point. The perfectly displayed designer handbags and matching shoes that gave you blisters just looking at them were undeniably beautiful but they just weren’t you. And it wasn’t that you were ungrateful for Lady Dimitrescu’s offer of a new wardrobe but it was simply too much for you to accept. You just didn’t know if she’d be offended if you told her and you certainly didn’t want that. “I’ve always felt kinda out of my element in these types of places.”

With a quizzical look in her eye she studies you for only a few moments but is still able to read your feelings with an impressive amount of clarity. “That’s quite understandable. I’ve been in this industry for two decades but it can still feel quite isolating at times. Being surrounded by those who are often more concerned with outward appearances and more material items makes it rather difficult to stay true to your own authentic self.”

She wasn’t wrong. And that’s why you had to be honest. “I’m sorry but I don’t think I can accept a new wardrobe from you, it just doesn’t feel right. It’s a very generous offer and everything in your collection is absolutely stunning but it’s just not me. I hope you can understand.”

“Please, don’t worry about it at all. I actually had a feeling that you’d say that. The only thing I must insist on is that you let me take you to dinner in lieu of my original offer.”

“Oh Lady Dimitrescu, I could never-”

“Please,” the way she purposefully reaches for your hand startles you at first. It’s firm yet gentle at the same time, as if she’s been contemplating it for a while now. “I’d be delighted to take you to dinner, truly. At the very least I’m obligated to lend you my ear so that you may express any thoughts or concerns you have about what just transpired. I would love to gain more of your perspective if you wouldn’t mind sharing.”

You’re not sure if it’s the distant sounds of Maia squealing in the background or just the general taxation of today’s events that leave you unable to process things, but the next words that leave your mouth waver in a way that you instantly regret.

“Could I… I’m sorry but could I think it over first?”

“Of course, my dear, no pressure at all,” she gently squeezes your hand before releasing it to reach for something else. A small look of disappointment is evident in her eyes that make you feel like you’ve done something wrong. “Here, please take my personal number and feel free to use it whenever. My offer doesn’t expire and I apologize again for the intolerable treatment you experienced today.”

You want to say something, maybe a ‘thank you’ or at least try to explain that you’re beyond flattered to have been invited to dinner but just suffer from crippling anxiety and still feel completely debilitated from the way she touched you. But instead Maia takes that exact opportunity to make her grand re-entrance accompanied by at least a dozen different dresses hanging from her arms. “Y/N, they have a jumpsuit in the exact shade of blue that’s PERFECT for me. I think you’re gonna have to drive the car around by the time I’m done!”

You look back around, desperate to find the lady and give her a better explanation than the one that just unceremoniously fell out of your mouth, but as mysteriously as she arrived she was also gone.

Author’s Note: Yes, the MC and Maia are both of Asian descent! This was a decision I made very early on when I was starting to come up with ideas for the story. Their race/ethnicity doesn't play a huge role to the plot and may only come up every now and then, but this was something really important to me personally. As someone that's Asian, finding fanfiction with content I can relate to is often difficult when most MCs are portrayed as having "sapphire blue eyes" and "luscious golden locks" or some other combination of features that are typically found in white characters. I also just wanted to write something that reflects my own experiences as an Asian and person of color for once, but I'm hoping that all types of audiences will still be able to relate to this story.

You can also find me on AO3 as MCULesbian and chapters 1-4 are already up there!

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina x oc #resident evil #resident evil village #village

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bts-reveries · 3 years

Text

expect the unexpected | 17

You spent the previous night at your parent’s house while your dad stayed at the hospital with your mom. They wanted to make sure that everything was okay before they let her go. Your dad let you know that there’s food in the fridge and to eat when you get home.

You weren’t hungry so you decided to get some shut eye… until midnight when you were suddenly hungry and ate every leftovers your parents had.

Long story short, you came back to the hospital the following morning and you’re now in your mom’s hospital room, throwing up in the toilet.

“Are you okay hon?” Your dad asks, peeking his head into the bathroom.

“Ugh I think I ate too much last night,” you say, getting up from the bathroom floor.

“Are you sure that’s all? Nothing else?” Your dad asks you as you go over to the sink to rinse your mouth and wash your hands. “Do you want to get checked? We are in a hospital already,” he laughs.

“No, I think I’m fine. I’m just going to go lay down, I kind of feel light headed.”

“Okay sweetie, if you still aren’t feeling well by the time mom’s discharged, we’re going to get you checked next. Can’t be too safe. You probably caught something,” your dad says, walking to your mom’s side.

“What’s wrong?” Your mom asks you when you walk out of the bathroom. You shake your head, you didn’t want her to worry, she’s been through enough.

“Nothing, I just ate too much last night right before I went to sleep,” you answer, sitting down on the chair by her.

“Okay… I see.”

“Are you going to forget us again,” Soojin says as the four of them drive up to the school drop off. Jin scoffs.

“Yah, it was an accident,” Jin says, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be working at our building today. So I won’t fall asleep and I will be able to pick you up on time.”

Soojin pouts, “I like it when Uncle Yeonjun takes us home..”

“And that’s why it isn’t happening anymore,” Jin says with wide eyes, turning his head back to look at her. “Daddy will be the one to pick you up until college. Okay?”

“Fine,” Soojin says with a small eye roll, her older brother laughs at her.

“Okay, I love you both, be good,” Jin says, unlocking the doors and waving his hand at the kids.

“Can you at least bring uncle Yeo--”

“Leeeeeeaaavee,” Jin says, pointing out the door, interrupting Soojin. His daughter huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she gets down from the car.

“Bye dad, we love you,” Minseok says, speaking for both him and his sister. “Bye Han-Han,” he says, tickling Haneul’s chin, making him laugh.

“Okay Haneul, you’re going to work with me today,” Jin says, driving off as soon as his two oldest gets to their friends.

“No auntie Sohu and auntie Rin today?” Haneul asks, already pouting. Jin glances at him from the rearview mirror.

“Nope, not today. Maybe tomorrow okay? Daddy has a lot to do,” Jin tells him. “You’ll see uncle Kookie later though.”

“Uncle JaaayKaaay~” Haneul says it the same way that Jungkook does it, nose scrunch and everything.

“Yeah uncle JaaayKaaay,” Jin repeats.

“Okay, the first meeting is in ten minutes,” Yeonjun says, walking right alongside Jin. The two power walked to the nearest elevator. Haneul was running right behind them since his little legs couldn’t keep up.

“Daddyy,” Haneul whines, starting to cry. The two older men stop mid step, looking down at Haneul. Who is now kneeling down onto the floor and crying. Throwing a tantrum in the middle of the room.

Haneul begins to start screaming, heads are turning towards them three now.

“Aigoo,” Jin sighs, bending down to pick up his son. “What’s wrong?” If you were there, you would know it was because they weren’t giving him attention. I mean, I’d hate it if my two friends were walking ahead of me and leaving me behind, forgetting about me!

“You’re okay~” Jin says, bouncing Haneul in front of him. Hanuel screams in response, bending backwards. Jin smiles sheepishly and bows at the people who walk by, staring. “Shh shh,” he hushed. “He’s being so dramatic,” Jin says to Yeonjun.

“Umm sir, he is your son after all…” He replies.

“Are you feeling better?” Your dad asks you as you three get to their car. Your mom was finally getting discharged, so the three of you were leaving the hospital now.

“I think so,” you say, hopping in the back seat. “My stomach still hurts a bit though..” you say, rubbing your belly. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much, so late last night..”

“Maybe it’s your period honey,” your mom says, looking back at you from the passenger’s seat.

“You’re right,” you say, coming to the realization that you haven’t had your period yet. You take out your phone to check when the last time you had your period. You had an app for it, especially since you take birth control as well, you keep well track of your period. Although now that you think of it… you should’ve had it already this month.

“Dad, before we go home, can we stop by the store? I just need to grab something really quick.”

“Okay, moving on. As some of you know, I had a meeting yesterday with Mr. Lee,” Jin says, sitting in the boardroom and having a meeting with his fellow employees. “We’re good to go with our new building in Busan.” Everyone starts to clap and Haneul looks around the room confused, slowly starting to clap along. He was currently sitting on Yeonjun’s lap.

“With that said, a few of you will be going to Busan to scope out the new area where our building will be,” Jin says, scanning over the employees sitting around the table.

Haneul squirms out of Yeonjun’s hold, running to his dad.

“Are any of you interested in going?” Jin asks. “Or I can pick-- Haneul, later,” Jin says, whispering that last part as Haneul tries to climb onto his lap. Jin looks over to Yeonjun and gives him the look saying ‘get him please.’ Yeonjun immediately gets up and runs towards Jin, bending down to pick up Haneul.

“No!” Haneul yells, turning around to give Yeonjun a dirty look. Haneul turns back towards Jin and tries to climb onto his lap. “I only want daddy,” he says.

“I’m sorry everyone, he’s been a little clingy lately,” Jin says with a slight laugh, picking Haneul up and placing him on his lap. “Let’s continue, does anyone want to go?”

A few people raise their hand up, Yeonjun writes their name down.

“Perfect,” Jin says. “This will be next week, your transportation and hotel will all be paid for.” Haneul turns around and wraps his arms around Jin’s neck, standing on his lap.

“Haneul, can you sit down please,” Jin says, tapping his little butt. “Come on, daddy is working.”

“Noo,” Haneul whines, hugging Jin’s neck even tighter and leaning on him. Jin sighs.

“Okay, I think it’s time for a nap,” he says, looking over at Yeonjun. “I’m sorry everyone, we’re going to have to cut this meeting a bit short. I’ll follow up with you who volunteered to go to Busan later. By tonight you will get a message from me. For everyone else, thank you for your time, I’ll see you all later.”

Everyone says their thank you’s and gets up to leave the room. Jin sighs, rubbing Haneul’s back as he stands up from his chair.

“Go ahead and get some food to eat Yeonjun or whatever else you want to do, I’ll be up in my office. I’ll put Haneul down for a nap,” Jin says, bouncing side to side to help Haneul fall asleep.

“Okay, thank you sir. Would you like me to get anything for you two?” Yeonjun asks. Jin shakes his head.

“No, we're good for now, thank you.” With that, Yeonjun walks out and Jin stays a while in the boardroom to try and soothe Haneul.

“Haneul-ah~,” Jin says calmly. “We’re going to be here all day, please be good for daddy..”

You sat on the toilet (with the lid closed) waiting for the results.

Can this really be happening?

You just got back from the store and are now in your parent’s house. You told your parent’s that you were just going to get medicine, which you did, but you really went for one other thing.

*Dit. Dit. Dit.*

The three minutes were up and you were nervous to check.

What if…

“He’s sleeping so peacefully,” Jin says, standing over Haneul (who was asleep on the couch he had in his office).

“I can go pick up the kids again hyung,” Yeonjun says. He was standing next to Jin.

“No, I promised the kids I’ll be the one to pick them up today. Can you just watch him while I’m gone? I won’t take long and he should still be asleep by the time I come back,” Jin says, scratching his head. Yeonjun nods.

“Yeah, no problem hyung. I’ll watch him.”

“Okay, thank you. I’ll be back in like fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Hey you remembered us,” Minseok jokes as he gets into the car.

“Of course I did,” Jin says.

“Where’s Haneul?” Soojin asks, looking at the empty car seat. “You forgot him! Mommy is going to be soo mad at you!” Jin laughs, looking back at them.

“I didn’t forget him, he’s sleeping in my office. He’s with uncle Yeonjun,” Jin tells her. Soojin’s eyes immediately light up at the sound of his name, making Jin roll his eyes. “Anyways, when we get there, we’re going to wake up Haneul and go eat something in the cafeteria. Then we have a shoot to go to, so we’ll be going to our other building.”

“Why do we have two buildings anyways,” Soojin asks, looking out of the window as Jin drives away from their school.

“One is our main location, that’s where my office is at and where all the office work takes place. Our other building is where all the studios are at for our clients to take photo or video shoots,” Jin explains.

“Can I have one of them when we’re bigger,” Soojin asks, kicking her feet against the back of the passenger’s seat.

“Sure princess. One for you, one for Minseok, and one for Haneul.”

“But that’s three, you only have two buildings,” Minseok says. “But I can share with Soojin or Haneul, I don’t mind.” Jin smiles as he hears what Minseok says, but by the look on his daughter’s face, Jin can see Soojin quirking up an eyebrow at her brother from the rear view mirror.

“Don’t worry, you two don’t need to share. We’re opening up another location soon, Haneul can have that one,” Jin tells them.

“Good, because I want my own building,” Soojin says, crossing her hands over her chest. Jin laughs. They really are polar opposites.

The three walk into Jin’s office and Soojin immediately runs to Yeonjun, who is now carrying Haneul.

“Is everything okay?” Jin asks as he hears his son crying, he walks over to his secretary, taking Haneul from him.

“He woke up and started crying when he noticed that you were gone, I tried my best to calm him down.”

“Aigoo, Haneul-ah, why are you being so clingy to daddy lately huh?” Jin says, pressing kisses to his cheek. Haneul lays his head onto Jin’s shoulder and calms down.

“I think you’re just going to have to carry him all day,” Yeonjun says.

“I think so too. I would use a baby carrier on him, but I think he’s too big for that now..”

“Haneul misses mommy that’s why,” Minseok says, rubbing his little brother’s back.

“Should we facetime mommy then?” Jin asks.

“Yes I miss mommy too!!” Soojin says, bouncing up and down.

“Okay okay, we’ll call mommy first and then we’ll go eat,” Jin says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

It’s ringing and ringing

And ringing and ringing

And ringing

Still ringing

And no answer.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

expect the unexpected

♡ part seventeen: no answer ♡

pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader

a/n: short but a lot👀

something to read while we wait for muster day 2!!💗💜♾🪐

taglist: @silentlyimpractical @jillianmarie @waddlebby @cecedrake2217 @ddofa @samros95 @sope-and-shine @joonjoonsmiles @codeinebelle @aianloveseven @Chamchamcham @princessjazzyjazz @notvantaes @casspirit0705 @ramyagovindraj @brinnalaine @ephyra1230 @betysotelo18 @thoughtfultaledreamer @salty-for-suga @cosmicdaylight @dreamcatcherjiah @kookoo-kachoo @justinetingball @josierosie @jayhope88 @butterflylion @hobiismyhopeu @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @ygbubs @catspancake @somewhereofftheglobe @strawberryforever25 @rjsmochii @prdshobi @beeeb05 @eatjeanjin @taekookcaneatme @Cheeely14 @kookietsukkie @anpanman-sonyeondan @glitteringcoffeefreak @chocobetterknot @alpaca1612 @ohmy-fandoms @liljooniecutie @Jikachoo @preciouschimine @fan-ati--c @Joondala @httpmuffin @dammit-jjk @jikooksgirl19

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

crush | jj maybank

summary: jj has had a crush on you for longer than he can remember

warnings: cursing, mentions of smut (if you squint), tiny bit of angst, SOFT JJ, fluff, fluff, fluff

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

2.1k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

JJ Maybank is was a player.

This is a well-known fact on both sides of the island.

You knew of way too many girls, pogues, kooks, and tourons alike, that had tried their shot at him. All hoping that they could magically change his bad-boy exterior and that he would suddenly transform into the dating type.

It wasn't uncommon that you had girls come into the shop, crying to you about how JJ Maybank didn't text them back and proceeding to buy a bunch of sweets to comfort themselves.

Your family-owned Kildare Bakery, home of the best cupcakes the Outer Banks had to offer. You had grown up helping your parents out in the bakery and once you turned 16 they finally made you an official paid employee.

You worked behind the register and for the most part, you loved it. It was really interesting to meet new people, especially tourons visiting from out of state.

However, there were moments where you didn't enjoy your job and this was definitely one of them.

A girl who looked to be about your age had walked into the store a few minutes ago, looking sad, but you didn't say anything. You simply asked if she needed any help and all of a sudden she was breaking out into a fit of sobs, reaching across the counter to pull you into a hug. You awkwardly patted her back, “Umm, you okay?”

“T-there was this boy,” she hiccuped and you immediately knew exactly where this was going. “I met him at a party last night and we h-hooked up and it was like really good, but when I asked him for his number he wouldn't even give it to me.”

You tried to hold back your eye roll but you couldn't help it. “Let me guess, his name was JJ,” you say, his name sounding slightly bitter on your tongue.

The girl finally pulled away from you, wiping her puffy eyes. “You know him,” she asked in confusion.

You nod. “Yes. Don't worry though, you'll find a much better guy and you will forget about JJ in no time,” you say in an attempt to comfort her.

She narrows her eyes. “Wait, you've hooked up with him too,” the girl asks.

You can't help but laugh. “Absolutely not, I just get a lot of his previous hookups in here,” you explain, gesturing to the display case. “I typically recommend the double chocolate cupcake to girls who've had their heart broken by JJ Maybank.”

The girl continues to look at you in confusion, but nods at your suggestion. You grab a chocolate cupcake and quickly box it up wanting to get her and all of her emotions out of here as quickly as you could.

“That'll be $2.34,” you say, and the girl quickly pulls out a ten. You hand her her change and her cupcake. “Have a nice day.”

Unbeknownst to you, JJ Maybank himself watches the interaction from outside of the bakery.

He can't help the way his heart feels when he sees you comfort the crying girl who he vaguely remembers from the boneyard last night.

Pope nudges his rib cage with his elbow. “Seriously, JJ,” Pope says, clearly annoyed by the blonde boy. “You brought me all the way down here just so you could stare at the girl you've had a crush on for years.”

JJ rolls his eyes, trying to cover up the blush forming on his cheeks. “I don't have a crush on her,” he says in an attempt to convince his friend. “I just think she's nice to look at.”

This was a complete and utter lie. Despite growing up in Kildare, you weren't very well known on the island, most people didn't pay you a second glance. You didn't really partake in the typical shenanigans of the teens on this island, and you always felt invisible to your peers.

But JJ saw you.

He had seen you every day in gym class Freshman year, every day in biology sophomore year, and every day he didn't skip in English junior year. And now that summer had rolled around, he couldn't help but come to the bakery just so he could see you more. JJ not only thought you were a living, breathing angel, but he also adored the way you were always so sweet and kind to everyone you met. How could he not have a crush on a girl like you? You were like a cold that he couldn't shake, not that he ever wanted to. But in his mind, a girl like you would never go for a guy like him.

Watching you talk to one of his hookups made him oddly guilty. He knew he shouldn't, but hooking up with random girls was the only way he could think to take his mind off you. Clearly, that didn't work, because here he was, yet again, staring at you through a window.

“Dude, you're so whipped,” Pope said with an eye roll. “Just go talk to her.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”

Pope scoffed. “You're telling me you've never even talked to the girl?” he asks incredulously. “JJ, bro, you're a goner.”

“You say that like it's easy,” the blonde says, dramatically gesturing his arms.

With another eye roll, Pope puts both hands on the other boy's shoulders. “Okay here's what you do,” he says and JJ listens intently. “Walk inside the store, go up to the counter, and you fucking talk to her.”

JJ pulls away. “Dude no way,” he exclaims.

“Okay fine,” Pope says. “If you go in there and talk to her, I'll give you all my delivery tips for a whole week.”

JJ looks at him. “A week,” he asks unconvinced.

“Fine. Two weeks.” They shake on it and JJ prepares himself to go inside.

The idea of even talking to you makes his stomach queasy. God, Pope is right, he is whipped.

After a few minutes, JJ tells his friend that he is ready and Pope pats him on the back before pushing him towards the entrance encouragingly.

You looked up to the door when you heard the bell ring, signaling someone entering. You were shocked to see the same boy you had been talking about moments ago. You make eye contact with his big blue eyes, getting entranced for a second. Pushing away your negative impression of the boy, you offer him a sweet smile.

JJ looks down at your lips, then back up to your eyes and without a word. You wonder why he isn't moving further into the shop, but before you can ask what is wrong, he turns around and walks right out the door.

Once outside, Pope comforts the boy with a laugh, telling him “next time” and they walk away from the shop leaving you utterly confused.

The next day, JJ drags John B, Pope, and Kiara along with him to the bakery, telling them that he needs “extra support”.

“C’mon man,” John B says with a shrug. “(Y/N) is way too nice to shoot you down,” he adds jokingly.

Kiara elbows him in the stomach. “Don't listen to him, JJ,” she says, shooting John B a glare. “Just be yourself.”

JJ nods, feeling confident as he walks through the bakery doors, but the second he sees your radiant smile all his courage flies out the window and he quickly walks back out the door.

This cycle goes on for three more days. JJ walks in, sees you, and leaves. You are becoming annoyed with the boy's actions, wondering if he is playing some sort of stupid prank on you.

It is Friday night, a few minutes before the bakery closes, and JJ decides that enough is enough. He needs to talk to you and he needs to do it now.

You are wiping down the display cases when you hear the bell ring.

When you turn around, you see JJ. Before he can say anything you glare at him. “Are you kidding me,” you say, sassily. JJ didn't even know you had a sassy bone in your body. “You've come in here every day this week and you look at me and then walk out,” you lecture him, “Seriously, just order something.”

“I-I,” JJ stutters but he can't get a word out in his shocked state.

Closing your eyes you try to regain your composure. “I'm sorry,” you say, your voice softening already feeling guilty about raising your voice at him. “I didn't mean to lash out on you.”

JJ shakes his head, softly smiling at your kindness. “No it's me who should be sorry,” he says remorsefully. “I probably confused you so much. I just- I think you're really beautiful.”

His words shock you. JJ Maybank thinks you are beautiful? You didn't even know he knew you existed before today. This had to be a prank.

You softly pout at him. “That's not very funny, JJ,” you say, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“It's not funny to play me like that.”

JJ frowns at your accusation, heartbreaking slightly. “I'm being honest, (Y/N). You are really pretty.”

You narrow your eyes. “I'm not sleeping with you just because you called me beautiful,” you say.

The blonde boy blushes hard. Clearly, you knew of his reputation, and he hated himself for it. “I don't want to sleep with you. Well I mean, I do, but- shit,” JJ cuts his rambling short, noticing the scowl on your face. “What I meant to say is that I want to take you on a real date, and hold your hand, and kiss you goodnight n’shit.”

To say you're shocked is an understatement. “How do I know this isn't some elaborate joke,” you ask him warily.

“It isn't, I promise,” JJ says honestly, but the look on your face doesn't change. “Last year in English you sat in the second row, three seats from the left and you got A’s on all your papers because you are a good writer. In Mr. Hills biology class you fell asleep almost every day and you would always drool a little bit on your notes. In gym class Freshman year you hit my friend John B in the face with a basketball and you didn't stop apologizing for like three weeks. Trust me (Y/N), I've had a crush on you for a long time.”

By the time JJ finishes his speech, your jaw has dropped. You didn't think anyone at that school even knew your name, let alone JJ Maybank.

“I-I honestly don't know what to say,” you tell him. “You have a crush on me? You, JJ Maybank, the one guy I told myself I would never fall for?”

You didn't know it, but every word that falls from your mouth is like a knife to JJ’s heart.

“But I couldn't help myself,” you add, causing JJ to perk up a little bit. “I get girls in here all the time whose hearts you broke, but still, I see you living your best life with your friends and I can't help but want that with you.”

“Go out with me,” JJ says with a mouth splitting grin on his face, “Please. You can wear something nice and I'll bring you flowers pick you up and take you out to a fancy restaurant.”

You can't help but laugh at his outburst. JJ is pretty sure that his heart stops at the sound and he wants nothing more than to make you laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“I'm a simple girl, JJ,” you say sweetly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You don't have to spend a bunch of money on me.”

“You're worth every pen-” you cut the boy off by holding your hand up.

“How about you grab some pizza and I'll grab some dessert and you can pick me up and take me to a picnic on the beach,” you suggest.

JJ looks at you and nods his head like an obedient puppy.

“Okay, it's settled. Now get out of the bakery so I can close up,” you say with a giggle, playfully shooing him away.

The blonde quickly moves to leave. “I'll pick you up at 6?” he asks sweetly from the doorway.

You nod. “I like pepperoni,” you call out with a chuckle as he backs out of the door, a big smile on his face.

JJ Maybank has a crush on you.

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

masterlist

2K notes · View notes

c-optimistic · 4 years

Note

Soulmate au?

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Kara asks suddenly one day. They’re in Lena’s office, having a rather late lunch, and had lapsed into a rather awkward silence when Kara blurts out her question.

(Mending friendships is slow, tedious work.

But much like all her other goals, Lena doggedly pursues it, determined to see it through.)

“No, I’m a scientist,” Lena laughs, putting her fork down. “Why do you ask? Do you think you found your soulmate?”

She doesn’t know why she asks. She doesn’t want the answer to that. She doesn’t want to hear about Kara’s dating life. Ask her why, and she’d vehemently deny knowing the reason, but the truth is that the thought of Kara with someone else sends poisonous shards through Lena’s chest, twists her all up inside, and leaves her feeling like her world has crashed around her.

(It’s not dramatic at all.)

“What? No!” Kara says to Lena’s ultimate relief. “No, it’s for an article.”

“You’re writing about soulmates?”

“Well, not exactly. There’s this woman here in National City who claims she can find your soulmate.”

“Oh?” Lena says, raising an eyebrow. Kara nods.

“Apparently, she can see the three ‘Marks’ of soulmates.” When Lena just eyes Kara skeptically, Kara grins and shrugs. “I’m serious! She claims there’s the Mark of Pain, the Mark of Skin, and the Mark of String.”

“...right,” Lena says, stretching out the word and smiling when Kara laughs. “So how does it work?”

“Well, I’ve only talked to her on the phone. But she says soulmates are attached in different ways. And she can sense it. Even if we ordinary people can’t. Like, her string theory—”

“—I don’t think that’s what the string theory is, Kara,” Lena interrupts, but Kara’s on a roll.

“I know, I know. But she says she can see it. Red thread, tied from one person to another. Or tattoos on people’s skin that matches in some way, and only she can see.” Kara shrugs. “She has a pretty good Yelp rating. Everyone says she’s gotten it right.”

“That seems more like confirmation bias than anything. And of course she’s making money off this.”

Kara smiles warmly at her, her eyes soft behind the glasses she didn’t technically need. She looks at Lena in a way that makes Lena heart skip a beat or two, that makes her momentarily forget about the past year of difficulty between them. Suddenly, she’s only looking at her best friend, and she’s a little bit in love.

“So you don’t believe in soulmates?” Kara confirms, her smile turning wistful.

“Why? Do you?” She doesn’t know why she asks. She doesn’t really want to know the answer, sure that any response Kara gives will just be a kick to the chest. Another crack in her heart.

She really wishes she hadn’t asked.

“I don’t know,” Kara responds after a short pause, clearly giving it a lot of thought. “But I hope soulmates do exist.” Kara lets out a laugh. “Maybe this woman can lead me to mine.”

(And there it is, that kick to the chest and crack in her heart she expected.)

Lena looks away, pretends to be startled by the time, but even as Kara gathers her things to leave, she secures Lena’s promise to look into this mystical soulmate finder together.

It’s a promise Lena is sure she’s going to regret.

ii. pain

“So, it’s weird that she refuses to see us in person, right?” Lena asks, looking to Alex for some support, which the elder Danvers is only too happy to give. “It’s odd. Why doesn’t she meet us in person?”

Kara shoots them both an impatient look, clearly not impressed with their negativity. “She doesn’t want to be affected by our energies while she’s working,” she explains, checking her phone before looking up and making sure they are at the right place.

“Our energies?” Alex asks dubiously, making a face at Lena behind Kara’s back. She times it poorly; before she can school her features into a neutral expression, Kara has turned to look at them again, her eyes narrowing.

“Being skeptical and being dismissive are two very different things,” Kara scolds them, sounding just a bit testy. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping an open mind, even about things you don’t or can’t understand.”

Alex opens her mouth, clearly about to start a debate, but Lena butts in, silencing Alex with a hand on her shoulder and giving Kara a small, placating smile. “You’re right, we’re sorry. We’ll behave,” she says, squeezing Alex’s shoulder until she lets out a grunt in the affirmative. When Kara is seemingly satisfied, nodding at them briskly, she continues leading them down the street, eyes on the storefronts. Alex, however, elbowed Lena hard the second Kara’s back was turned.

“What’s wrong with you?” she hisses, elbowing Lena again. “We’ll behave?”

“She’s right, there’s plenty we don’t understand, plenty out there in the universe we can’t make sense of, so maybe keeping an open mind isn’t the worst thing—”

“—oh, shut up, you know very well you’re only taking her side for one reason, and—”

“I can hear you two, you know,” Kara says loudly, interrupting their hushed argument. “Also, we’re here.”

She stops and looks up at the rundown tea shop, nestled between an old record store that had clearly seen better days, and a very busy video game and comic book store. Lena tugs on her coat when a few kids eye her as they enter the store, ducking their heads together and beginning to whisper.

“All right, well explain where here is,” Alex says, stepping closer to her sister. “You haven’t actually explained anything.”

Kara nods, gesturing for them to enter the tea shop, the three of them finding an empty table and huddling around it, perching on tiny, uncomfortable chairs. The tea shop is, for the most part, a place Lena would never have entered on her own volition. It’s frilly and pink, photos of cats everywhere, with sticky tables and stifling heat. Yet, there’s also an odd comfort to the place: it smells heavenly, the aroma of freshly brewed tea mixing with a variety of sweets, all neatly arranged at the display next to the register. The customers also look like they’re at home, nestled in corners reading books, tapping away on computers, and even on what looks to be a very engaging date.

It’s nice. Even if she’s skeptical of the reason they came here, she’s glad she’s come across this place. She thinks she may even come by again, especially if their tea is any good.

“So apparently, there are two people who work here who are soulmates,” Kara explains, motioning for Alex and Lena to lean towards her. Lena finds herself swallowing a little when the aroma of the tea shop is mixed with Kara’s heavenly scent. Her mind goes a little fuzzy, and she knows she has a silly expression on her face because Alex is smirking at her. Kara, of course, focused on work and on her explanation, notices nothing. “They have the Mark of Pain. We’re here to observe, see if they actually can feel each other’s pain.”

“I don’t know if I’d like that one,” Alex says conversationally, leaning back in her rickety chair and eyeing the register and the zoned-out employee behind it. “I mean, can you imagine? In my line of work? Kelly would always be in pain.”

“You think Kelly is your soulmate?” Lena asks, a little surprised by the easy way Alex has said it. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s just true. “What about Maggie? How do you know?”

“Who says you have to have one soulmate?” Alex shoots back, shrugging. “Kara’s my soulmate too. Platonically, of course. You, even.” She grins when Lena’s eyes widen, when she opens and closes her mouth wordlessly, confused and overwhelmed and unsure. “What? Just because I don’t believe in this mystic lady doesn’t mean I don’t believe in the concept of soulmates. But who says it has to be romantic? Or that it’s just one person?”

“So what is it?”

“People in your life who enter it and just...stay. Your found family. Chosen family.” She looks away from the employee at the register and smiles at Kara. “Kara agrees. Right?”

Kara, who has pulled out her notebook and has taken a few notes down about the employee at the register, nods distractedly. “We were drunk when we came up with this,” she explains, meeting Lena’s eyes and blushing slightly for whatever reason. “But it just seems—well, it seems silly to think that in the entire universe there’s one person who’d be your perfect partner. That’s also really sad,” she mumbles. “If that were true, who’s to say my soulmate didn’t die with Krypton?” She shrugs awkwardly. “I think sometimes people are just connected. Meant to be in each other’s life. In whatever form that may be.” Kara looks at Lena carefully, her mouth opening and her cheeks reddening further. “Like—” But Lena doesn’t get to hear what Kara wants to say. At that moment, another employee comes in from the back entrance, looking slightly distracted, eyes on the employee behind the register.

“Look,” Alex says suddenly, sitting up straighter as the employee walks by, bumping into a table roughly. “Whoa,” she says, and Lena silently agrees.

Because just as the employee mumbles a curse and rubs their side, blushing furiously and looking embarrassed, the zoned-out employee at the register winces in pain, rubbing that same spot.

A point, Lena thinks, in the strange mystic woman’s favor.

iii. skin

Lena begins researching the strange mystic woman in earnest.

(In her free time, far away from Kara’s eyes or Alex’s judgment.)

Everything about her is frustratingly perfect—perfect enough that Lena is suspicious. The woman’s website is well-made and professional, littered with testimonials and photos of weddings. There are a range of services with a range of prices, and no matter how much Lena digs, she doesn’t see a single bad thing about the woman.

It’s the internet, she thinks as she scrolls through Google reviews, grimacing at the emojis that filled each comment. Surely someone, somewhere would use the anonymity to their advantage to say something less than complimentary.

No one is perfect, Lena thinks to herself. Which means one of two things: this woman is a fraud (more likely) or she has some sort of ability to force people to write nice things about her on the internet (Lena’s had a few drinks when this becomes a plausible option to her).

She doesn’t remember dialing the number on the website, but the next thing she knows, someone with an airy voice is on the other end, asking her if she’s ready to meet her soulmate.

“You’re a fraud, did you know that?” Lena asks. “It’s cruel what you’re doing, really. Telling people there’s someone perfect out there who loves them for them. That’s unkind.”

“Oh, Lena!” the woman says, the airy tone dropping for a moment. “I mean,” she continues, the affectation back, “I’ve been expecting a call from you, Lena Luthor.”

“Oh, have you? Can you see the future as well as the red string connecting people?”

The woman chuckles, and she sounds vaguely familiar. Lena’s drunk mind chalks it up to being drunk. “I can’t see the future,” she says, sounding amused. “I just knew you would contact me after Kara Danvers began her article on my business.”

“Oh?” Lena mutters sarcastically.

“The answer to your question is yes,” she says, and Lena chokes on nothing.

“I didn’t ask a question. The ‘oh’ was rhetorical.”

“No, Lena Luthor, the question you called me to ask. I’ll give it to you, free of charge: yes.”

“I don’t have a question,” Lena denies, not liking the way the woman on the other end of the phone laughs. “Is this how you tricked the others? Tell them what they want to hear, and they write you obnoxiously positive reviews?”

“So you admit it’s what you wanted to hear,” the woman shoots back with glee, that stupid tone gone, and for the second time, Lena swears she knows this voice. “I mean,” she clears her throat, “I haven’t tricked anyone. I just tell people what I see. Didn’t you see the truth at the tea shop?”

“I think there’s a perfectly logical explanation for that,” Lena argues. “Phantom pains, an old bruise, sympathetic—”

“—okay, you’re skeptical,” the woman interrupts, “I understand. What if I show you a second example?”

Lena thinks about it for a moment. “Fine. But on my terms. I want you to find Jess’s soulmate.” She’s just drunk enough that this seems like a wonderful idea. On the other end of the phone, the woman sounds like she’s hacking up a lung.

“Your secretary?” she asks incredulously, once again sounding familiar.

“How did you—”

“—okay, I will do this,” the woman interrupts, rushing to speak. “In two days, you will be able to see her Mark as well as the Mark of her soulmate, just like I do.”

“That makes no sense, what are you—” But she never finishes her sentence. The woman hangs up, leaving Lena looking at her phone, trying to blink away her shock.

By the time she wakes up the following morning, groaning at her hangover and nearly telling Kara she loves her when the reporter shows up to her apartment with coffee and pastries, Lena’s forgotten all about the call.

///

Jess lingers every time she steps into Lena’s office. She eyes Lena oddly, stares at her hands, and shifts awkwardly on her feet. After the third time, Lena rolls her eyes, sets her pen down, and gives Jess her full attention.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No!” Jess says immediately, then grimaces. “Well, yes. But nothing bad. Not really.” Lena waits her out, knowing Jess will get to the point eventually. “My partner and I, well, we had plans this weekend. We’re supposed to leave straight from work, so I was—”

“—oh, right. Your time off. Yes, of course, feel free to leave early.” She picks up her pen, thinking this is the end of the conversation.

“Um, actually Ms. Luthor, I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet him.”

“Meet who?” Lena asks distractedly.

“My partner.” Something must show on Lena’s face when she drops her pen a second time and looks up at Jess, because she hurries to explain. “He’s a huge fan of your work. And he’s a big part of my life. I’d like you to meet him. If you can.” She tacks on the last three words almost as an afterthought, not quite meeting Lena’s eyes.

“Yes, of course. We can—”

“—wonderful, he’s right outside,” Jess says, smiling wide, rushing out of Lena’s office. A moment later, she returns, a tall, charming looking man following close behind.

She introduces them, and for the next hour, they chat amicably, discussing Lena’s work and Jess’s exceptionalism, and the weekend getaway plans. Except, Lena’s not quite sure she retains any of the information she gleans from the conversation—in fact, if you asked her, she couldn’t even remember if Jess had ever mentioned where she and her partner were even going.

Because when Jess’s partner reaches out to shake Lena’s hand, his sleeve rides up just slightly, revealing a small tattoo with Jess’s name on the inside of his wrist.

Lena doesn’t need to see a similar tattoo, with Jess’s partner’s name, on the inside of Jess’s wrist for her to realize what she’s come across.

“Those tattoos are quite nice,” Lena says when they get up to leave, Jess’s partner leaving her office first. “The artist who did them is quite talented.”

Jess gives Lena an odd look. “I’m sorry, Ms. Luthor,” she says, “what tattoo?”

Lena gestures to Jess’s wrist, but when she looks down, the mark is gone.

And that is a second point in the mystic woman’s favor.

iv. string

Lena absolutely, positively, without a single shred of doubt, does not believe in soulmates. The concept is ludicrous. To think that in a massive and constantly expanding universe, the atoms that make her are somehow destined to be near the atoms that make up someone else is an entirely ridiculous conclusion. She does not believe in the concept of a perfect partner, of someone she is meant to be with, of an individual to whom she is forever connected.

(And to be quite frank, there’s a bit of fear too. She doesn’t want soulmates to exist. For one, she’s worried about the prospect that the universe would pay back her family’s misdeeds by forever ensuring Lena does not have a soulmate. And for another, the far more terrifying option, she does have a soulmate, and that poor soul is bound to her of all people.

What an awful, horrible fate—nothing she’d wish on her worst enemy, least of all the person she’s supposedly destined to be with.)

Lena does not believe in soulmates. She doesn’t.

What she does believe in is Kara.

(Kara, who had her back from the day they met. Kara, who had saved her life more than once. Kara, who made mistakes—just like Lena—but had met Lena halfway and worked hard to fix things between them. Kara, who for all her flaws and missteps, is Lena’s best friend in the world, the one person who has seen Lena for Lena, from the moment they first locked eyes.

Kara, who Lena is hopelessly in love with; Kara, who has never shown interest in women; Kara, who has recently taken up the really rather unfortunate habit of telling Lena she loves her every chance she gets.

And then there’s Lena, who swallows down what she wants to say and instead smiles bitterly as she intones, “I love you too, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”)

Lena is pretty smart. She can say so without sounding obnoxious about it, because it’s a generally accepted fact. She’s pretty smart, and she was dumb enough to fall in love with someone who could never love her back the same way. She rather thinks that if soulmates are indeed real, then that wouldn’t have been possible. Then again, perhaps that’s not entirely true.

(She thinks about Alex’s notion of what soulmates are or could be, of Kara’s thoughts on connection, and she thinks that maybe—even if she wants it to—she isn’t meant to be with Kara romantically. If there’s anyone in her life who is her family, anyone Lena has chosen, anyone she has picked again and again and again, it’s Kara.

It will always, romantically or not, be Kara.

And if that’s not the definition of a soulmate, Lena’s not quite sure what is.)

For the second time in less than a week, Lena finds herself dialing a number from a well-maintained website.

“Lena Luthor,” the airy voice says as soon as she picks up. “I admit I’m surprised you’re calling. I gave you proof and your answer. What more can you need?”

“These soulmates you find,” Lena says, trying not to let her disappointment seep into her tone too much, “have you ever thought maybe you’re matching people who aren’t meant to be together romantically?”

The mystical woman makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a snort of disbelief and a huff of amusement. “You’re—wow,” she says, dropping the silly tone, and if her voice was just a tiny bit higher, Lena would swear it was— “Listen. Yes, platonic soulmates are a thing. They’re great. We love them. Some people only have platonic soulmates. But you are not platonic soulmates with—”

“—yes but how do you know something like that, that seems hard to—”

“—it’s like talking to a brick wall,” the woman interrupts, and Lena can hear some sort of scuffle from the other end, as if someone is trying to pull the phone out of the woman’s grasp. “Look,” the woman says after a second, sounding a bit out of breath, “I’m going to tell you something I have never told anyone else. Of the three Marks, the most clear and obvious sign of two people belonging romantically together is the Mark of String.” The woman pauses, and Lena would almost swear that there’s someone else speaking to her. “Here’s what you should do. And I do this free of charge for you, because I’m highly invested in this,” she chuckles as if this is a great joke and then barrels on, “so listen carefully. Tonight, go see the woman you love. Spend the night. If you wake up with a red string tied from your pinky to hers, then you can rest assured she’s the one.”

“I don’t know if—”

“—Lena,” the woman admonishes, and Lena frowns, finally recognizing the voice. “Trust me on this.”

She goes through with it, trusting the not-so-mystical woman.

Except, when Kara sneaks towards the bed she gallantly gave up for Lena, a piece of red thread hanging from her hand, Lena sits up and clicks on the bedside table light.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Lena tells Kara.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, Kara sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, and Lena trying hard (and failing) to act relaxed.

“So?” she prods, gesturing to the red thread still tied to Kara’s pinky finger. “Want to explain your practical joke?”

“Joke?” Kara says in shock, shaking her head immediately. “No, Lena, it’s not a joke. Not even a little bit.”

Lena’s heart skips a few beats at that, but she maintains an impassive expression. “I don’t understand then. Why would you—”

“—remember a few months back, when I told you I loved you for the first time?” Kara interrupts, jumping to her feet and pacing in front of the couch. She doesn’t wait for Lena to respond. “It took me weeks to gather the courage to tell you. And I’d memorized the whole speech, and at the end you just looked at me like I was speaking to someone else. You told me you loved me as a friend.”

“Right, because you meant it as friends, you…” Lena trails off. “Wait.”

An odd look passes over Kara’s face, something like amusement and exasperation. “Alex told me that I needed to be direct with you. But I—even when I tried, it was like you didn’t hear me.”

(Lena thinks back to all the times Kara had said I love you and she wonders if she’s just heard what she expected to hear and not what Kara was actually trying to say.

Her heart begins to pound in her chest at the very possibility.

Did Kara really....?)

“So what? You decided to recruit Nia to pretend to be a mystical woman? To prove what exactly?”

Kara, surprisingly, looks smug. “You recognized her. I knew it. She was way off script on the phone call, and I tried to get her off the phone but she—”

“—Kara, focus. So the whole soulmate thing was fake?”

Kara winces at that. “Well. Yes, technically.” She stills, coming to a stop several feet in front of Lena. “I asked a few people to help out.”

“Wait, so the two people in the tea shop…” Lena trails off, eyes wide.

“Right, two DEO agents. They should definitely look into acting as a career, I mean they had me convinced, and I knew it was fake—”

“—and Jess?” Lena asks, feeling vaguely overwhelmed.

“Special temporary tattoos made by the DEO, easy to rub off, for both her and her partner.” When Lena is silent a touch too long, Kara rushes to explain. “I mean, it was very hard to convince her to do it. She’s incredibly protective of you, she deserves some kind of raise.”

“She does,” Lena agrees absently, getting to her feet and gesturing towards the red string in Kara’s hand. “And this?”

“We weren’t supposed to get to this. I’d hoped the first two would convince you Nia could honestly see soulmates. I was going to tie it to your pinky. The other end would be connected to me, of course,” she raises her hand with an awkward wave. “But you, um. Caught me.”

Lena bites her lip, marvelling at the sheer amount of work Kara and the others put into this. “Who made the websites? They were perfect.”

“Brainy made them,” Kara explains, a frown appearing on her lips and a crease forming between her brows. “Though I guess he made it too well, since you were suspicious of it.”

“Kara, I—” Lena’s not sure what she wants to say, and she’s glad when Kara interrupts her, taking a step closer, looking at her with an earnest expression.

“Listen,” she says, determination etched onto her features. “I love you. In a romantic way. And if there are soulmates out there, then you’re mine. That’s all this was.”

Lena feels tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision, and she wants to duck her head, to hide, but Kara is there and saying everything she’s ever wanted to hear, and so instead she just closes the last of the distance between them and wraps her arms around Kara, holding her close, face burrowing into Kara’s neck. “All of this just to say I love you seems a bit dramatic,” she whispers, feeling Kara’s arms go around her waist, clutching her tighter.

“I figured you’d need something dramatic to believe it’s true,” Kara jokes, loosening her hold just a bit so that she can pull back and look at Lena.

“You’re my soulmate too, you know. If there are things like that out there. It was always just you.”

Kara grins brilliantly at her, pressing their foreheads together. “Finally,” she whispers.

#supercorp #fanfic #new #kara danvers #lena luthor

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viastro · 3 years

Text

the best surprise | lee chan

ミ★ synopsis: you and chan have been together for the last four years, and he has failed to surprise you on your birthday for each and every one.

ミ★ genre: established relationship!au, fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 3,128

ミ★ pairings: lee chan x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi everyone ! it was my birthday two days ago (the 15th), and i wanted to give you guys a little belated birthday gift from me ! i know that’s not how birthdays work, but i thought it’d be a cute thing to do. here’s a cute oneshot of sir lee chan ! make sure to give him lots of love <33

You and Chan have been together for the last four years.

The two of you started out as childhood friends, and it was when you both entered high school that you started to develop feelings for each other. You know the typical childhood friends to lovers au? Yeah, that’s you and Chan. Except it wasn’t complicated and there was no heavy angst involved as neither of you were worried that your friendship would be ruined. It was a rather simple process, actually.

“Yn, I have something to tell you.” You glance up from your phone, finding Chan standing before you with a small dandelion bouquet in his hand. Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “Did you pick those from the school yard?”

“...No…”

You and Chan stare at each other for a moment. With you being unconvinced, and Chan internally wondering whether or not he should’ve gotten the flowers from the actual garden.

“A-Anyways…” Chan continues, shoving the dandelions onto your lap without another word, and you hold back your giggles as you turn off your phone, giving your best friend your full attention.

Chan looks a bit nervous, something that’s somehow new to you even though you’ve been friends since elementary school. Chan usually oozes confidence, always passionate about whatever he does, so this sight is rather intriguing to you.

Does that make you a sadist?

… Oh God.

“Do you want to go on a date this Friday?” Chan asks, promptly putting a pause to your thoughts on whether or not you get gratification from someone else's misery. You tilt your head to the side, feeling warmth flood your chest from the precious blush on Chan’s cheeks as he stares at you with hope in his eyes.

You finally let out a smile after a moment, nodding your head as you respond, “Of course.”

The beautiful smile you’ve become accustomed to finally forms on Chan’s face, making you grin when he pulls you up from the bench, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace. You laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and rubbing his back.

“You’re so happy, did you think I’d say no?” You ask with a smile on your face, and you feel Chan shake his head, squeezing your frame a bit tighter.

“No, I had confidence you’d say yes, it’s just nice to hear it in real life.”

“You’re a bit too overconfident.”

“Shush, you said yes. No take backs.”

And after a few dates, you and Chan became official. It’s been four years since then, and now the two of you are in your second year of university. With Chan being on the dance team, and you excelling in the Art department. The two of you are a rather talented couple, if you do say so yourself.

However, if there’s one thing that Chan never really succeeded in, it was surprising you. For the past four years, Chan has tried and tried to surprise you on your birthday. He would always buy a gift and think, this is it. this can’t fail. this will be the gift to surprise yn.

He was wrong each time.

Whether it be that you stumbled upon the hiding spot of your gift, you barging into his room to find him wrapping your present, or running into him at the mall with your gift in his hand.

Chan never wins.

However, he is determined that this year will be the year as it won’t be a physical gift that he’s planning to surprise you with. He will surprise you with people! A goddamn surprise party!

Nothing can go wrong!

“Everything is going wrong!” Chan cries out, slamming his forehead down onto the café table.

Seungkwan and Vernon exchange concerned glances with each other, trying to figure out how to comfort the youngest that will now, most likely, get a migraine. Seungkwan points towards Chan, and Vernon shrugs his shoulders, pointing towards the youngest as a way to get Seungkwan to initiate the conversation instead. To which the blonde only shoots a death glare towards Vernon, and the latter lets out a sigh, reaching out and resting a hand on Chan’s shoulder.

“Chan, everything is not going wrong.” Vernon says as an attempt to comfort him, but Chan only lets out a loud sob that gains the attention of a few passerbys. Seungkwan’s eyes widen, turning towards the few concerned fellow customers and waving his hands towards them, “He’s okay, don’t worry-”

“I’m not okay- OW!” Seungkwan kicks Chan’s ankle underneath the table, making the youngest let out a yelp of pain. The blonde sends those near the table a smile, and they simply turn away from the trio, more afraid than concerned at this point.

Seungkwan lets out a sigh, before glancing back at Chan to see the youngest lift up his head, tear tracks evident on his cheeks. Vernon holds back a laugh, instead grabbing the rough café napkins and blotting away the tears on Chan’s face.

“Why do you think everything is going wrong, Chan?” Seungkwan asks, and Chan sniffles, dramatically looking out the café window as he’s reminded of what occurred earlier. “Well basically,”

“You’re out… of balloons…” Chan says in a state of disbelief. The employee in front of him nods their head with a pitiful smile, “Yeah, so sorry about that.”

Chan runs a hand through his hair in frustration, not having enough time for this before pointing towards the name of the store that’s in bold purple letters.

“The name of your store is Seongyeom’s Balloons!”

Seungkwan and Vernon both stare at Chan with frowns on their faces, and Chan raises his hands up in the air in exasperation. “That’s the same exact reaction I had!”

“How the fuck does a balloon store run out of balloons…”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I think we should acknowledge the fact that just because Seongyeom’s Balloons ran out of… balloons… doesn’t mean everything is going wrong. We can just go to a party shop or something, or even a convenience store! It’s fine, Chan. Don’t worry.” Vernon interrupts, and Chan bites the inside of his cheek, nodding his head in agreement.

“Okay, you have a point. I’m just so stressed about making sure the surprise party works. I haven’t been able to surprise yn for the last four years, and I really want to surprise them this time.” Chan says, and the two nod their heads, already knowing of Chan’s previous failures. Vernon reaches out and pats Chan’s black hair, giving him a reassuring grin.

“We know, and you will surprise yn. The two of us will be here to help you, as well as the rest of the guys! There’s twelve of us out here trying to help you, so don’t stress too much.” Chan glances at Seungkwan, finding him nodding his head along with Vernon’s words. The black haired beauty finally lets out a smile, feeling a bit more confident that this will be the best surprise ever.

“Can you pass me the chocolate chips, Chan?” You ask as you stir the cookie dough, reaching out with your free hand so that he can just place the bag onto it. You raise an eyebrow after a moment when you realize there’s still no chocolate chips in your hand, and you turn your head to find him engrossed in his phone.

“Channie.” You call, just to let out a quiet laugh when Chan continues to type into the cool metal. You reach out with your foot and nudge his ankle, finally gaining the attention of your boyfriend when he looks up at you with soft eyes.

“Yes?” Grinning, you motion towards the bag of chocolate chips beside him.

“I asked you to hand me the chocolate chips like two minutes ago, but you were so busy on your phone.” You say, watching as Chan’s eyes slowly widen. He quickly pockets his phone and grabs the chocolate chips, stepping over and handing them to you.

“Thank you, Chan.” You say in a sweet voice, turning back towards the dough, and Chan feels his heart melt when he takes notice of the bit of cookie dough resting on the corner of your lips from when you were stealing bits and pieces of it.

“Yn.” You glance back towards your boyfriend, wondering what he needs.

“Mm?” Chan doesn’t answer, instead leaning in and pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. Your eyes widen slightly, warmth flooding your face from the sweet action when he pulls away. The black haired beauty gives you a smile, “You had cookie dough there.”

Your mouth opens slightly as you let out an, ah, nodding your head as a shy smile breaks out over your features. Chan grins, going to your side and leaning against the counter as he takes over folding the chocolate chips into the cookie dough.

You watch as Chan does the tedious task for you, and you let out a laugh when he sneaks a chocolate chip into his mouth rather inconspicuously. He grins at the sound, turning towards you to try and act innocent, and you just shake your head at him.

“Why were you so distracted with your phone earlier? Did you finally download Genshin?” You ask, propping yourself up onto the counter as you watch your boyfriend form balls of cookie dough to place onto the baking sheet. Chan freezes slightly from the question, before easily going back into what he was doing without you noticing. He turns and shoots you a look, “No. I’ve seen what Genshin’s done to you. You spent almost 100 dollars trying to get Xiao when he came out.”

You purse your lips, letting out a quiet grumble when you can’t think of a way to respond to your poor spending decisions. Chan simply grins at that, turning back and placing the cookie dough onto the baking sheet.

“Can’t believe you almost spent that much money on a gacha game-”

“At least I got him!” Chan lets out a laugh, and you burst into giggles as well when the two of you begin talking about your Genshin addiction while making cookies.

Chan sneaks a peek at you, grinning when he sees how passionate you look as you explain your love for Genshin. He’s only so grateful that he was able to steer your attention away from the previous question. As he was actually texting the groupchat the game plan for Friday evening, your 20th birthday.

Internally, Chan is screaming.

Externally, he looks like the epitome of calm, minus the drop of sweat that is currently going down his neck.

Chan swings your intertwined hands back and forth as the two of you walk towards the elevators of your guys’ apartment building. You’re both heading home after the date you went on to celebrate your birthday. Or so, that’s what you think. In reality, it was a way to get you both out of the apartment so that the gang could decorate and prepare for your surprise party.

In which the surprise aspect will occur in about one minute.

“We should’ve gotten a slice of cake from that one bakery we like!” You exclaim once the two of you are standing in front of the door to your guys’ apartment, turning to look at your boyfriend, just to find him smiling at you. He squeezes your hand, “It’s okay. We can go tomorrow.”

You smile and nod your head, letting go of Chan’s hand so that you can unlock the door to the apartment. Chan anxiously stands beside you, watching as you open the door and step inside, finding the shared space to be borderline pitch black.

“What happened to the potato light I left on?” You mutter to yourself, only to let out a scream and jump backwards into Chan’s arms when the lights suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices shout out the word,

“SURPRISE!”

Chan laughs at your reaction after the confetti gets thrown into the air in front of you both, peeking his head around to see your eyes wide and mouth dropped open as you stare at each person in your friend group. You point towards the balloons and the disco ball hanging up on the ceiling in shock, before your face morphs into a bright smile.

“You guys!” You whine, making Seungkwan and Vernon laugh when you raise your hands to your warm cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed by your reaction. Chan grins, letting go of your waist and stepping in front of you to get a good look at the expression on your face.

“Did it work? Did I surprise you?” Chan asks with a hopeful smile, and you pout, nodding your head as warmth floods your chest. Your boyfriend turns towards the group, before he throws his arms up into the air in victory.

“WE WON!”

“CHAN FIRST WIN!” Soonyoung yells, and all the guys come huddling towards you and Chan. A chorus of happy birthday yn!, and chan! you did it!, echo around the small apartment along with the sounds of laughter.

“Let’s celebrate with some food!” Jeonghan shouts from the kitchen table, causing the thirteen of you to glance over at the wide arrangement of delicacies sitting on the wooden surface. Your mouth drops open, and you quickly grab Chan’s hand, shuffling over to the table without another word. The guys laugh and follow after you, finally being able to dig into the food that they’ve been waiting to eat.

You peacefully eat the cake as you watch Chan and Mingyu battle it out on the switch, currently in an intense round of Just Dance. You let out a grin when Mingyu shoves your boyfriend, taking another bite of cake as you listen to Chan yell,

“Foul! FOUL!!”

“Alright, how’d you know?” You turn your head to see Seungkwan standing beside you with a knowing grin on his face, and you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile, “Know what?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes, nudging you with his shoulder as he takes a sip of water, and you let out a giggle. You glance over at Chan, smiling at how precious of a boyfriend he is for trying to do all this just for you.

“Well, I found out around a couple weeks ago when I went to go and buy tea.”

“I’ll have a honey green tea please.” You order with a smile, taking out your card to tap it onto the card reader in order to pay.

“Everything is going wrong!” A confused expression makes its way onto your face at the familiar voice, and you turn your head just in time to see a head of black hair slam onto the wooden table. You bite back a laugh, wondering what’s ruined Chan’s mood this time.

After getting your receipt, you walk over to the other side of the bar to wait for your drink, now closer to Chan’s table as you recognize Vernon and Seungkwan sitting beside him. You tilt your head as you wonder why your boyfriend was crying, watching as Seungkwan just stares at Chan in confusion.

“I think we should acknowledge the fact that just because Seongyeom’s Balloons ran out of… balloons… doesn’t mean everything is going wrong. We can just go to a party shop or something, or even a convenience store! It’s fine, Chan. Don’t worry.” You hear Vernon say, and you raise an eyebrow because first of all,

How does a balloon shop run out of balloons ?!?

And second of all,

Why does Chan need balloons?

“Okay, you have a point. I’m just so stressed about making sure the surprise party works. I haven’t been able to surprise yn for the last four years, and I really want to surprise them this time.” Your mouth drops open when your second question gets answered, and you immediately turn away once you hear your order number get called. Quickly, you walk over to grab the beverage, thanking the barista and stepping out of the café so that you don’t get noticed.

“And that’s how I found out about the surprise party. In all honesty, I think there’s a God that just doesn’t want Chan to be successful in surprising me.” You explain, turning to gauge Seungkwan’s reaction. The blonde only lets out an unsurprised sigh, shaking his head as he glances over at Chan.

“You gonna tell him that you knew?” Seungkwan asks when Chan and Mingyu finally finish the dance, and you watch as Chan jumps up and down in celebration. You smile softly, shaking your head, no, “He’s been trying to surprise me for the last four years, I think I should let him have this.”

“Yn! I won!” Chan shouts out to you once you answer Seungkwan’s question, and the two of you glance over at the black haired beauty, letting out a laugh at the sweat beads dripping down his forehead.

“How are you so sweaty from a Just Dance game?!” Seungkwan asks, and Chan shrugs his shoulders, grabbing a napkin and blotting his face.

“Don’t underestimate the power of Just Dance 4!” Mingyu answers back, pointing at the blonde with a serious expression on his face. Seungkwan scoffs, patting your shoulder as a means to tell you that he’s leaving the conversation. You nod your head with a chuckle, watching as Seungkwan walks over to initiate a dance battle with Mingyu.

You move to take another bite of cake, only to pause when you see Chan standing before you, mouth open as he waits for you to feed him strawberry cake. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you place the cake into his mouth, and he bites it, letting out a noise of content.

“You can get your own cake over there, ya know.” You say as Chan steps beside you to lean against the wall, and he scoffs. “I prepared this surprise party for you and you don’t wanna share your slice of cake? How rude.”

You nudge his shoulder, and Chan lets out a laugh reaching out and wrapping his arms around you from behind, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Are you having fun?”

You nod your head with a smile, looking around the room at all your loved ones. Chan sees the warmth in your gaze as your eyes wander, and he finds himself smiling at the sight. He presses a kiss to your cheek, proud of himself.

“I’m glad I was able to surprise you this time.”

Holding back the laugh that threatens to escape, you lean your head back onto Chan, letting out a happy sigh instead as you press a kiss to Chan’s cheek in return.

“I’m glad you were able to surprise me too.”

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notcorrect-persona5 · 3 years

Text

In Defense of Yosuke’s Parents

I’ve seen so many posts about Yosuke having bad parents which really surprised me because I didn’t get that impression at all. I’ve been meaning to make a post in defense of his parents, but I’ve been working on a Yu analysis. After I saw @personuhh’s post I thought I’d offer an alternative perspective. I’ll be addressing some of the things they brought up first, and then I’ll get into additional evidence. I have edited this post since I originally posted it because I I wanted to elaborate and reword some things.

My Response

You’re right, Yosuke does take on way more responsibility than a part-timer should. However, I don’t think that’s his parents doing. It seems like Junes is extremely understaffed. In his social link, Yosuke says his dad was “bugging him to find helpers.” I volunteer at a small location of a large church (much like the Inaba branch of Junes), and I have been asked to find more volunteers over and over again because they’re desperate for more help. It’s a lot of work and not enough people. Additionally, both Yu and Chie come in to help due to the lack of staff. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Hanamura helped out too as Teddie’s under the impression that Yosuke’s parents are always together (which I’ll talk about later).

On top of that, Yosuke mentions part-timers ditching work and slacking off. When an employee doesn’t show up, Yosuke (and Teddie) are often called in because their managers know they’ll show up. People who are reliable are given more responsibility, period. It sucks, but if someone needs help they aren’t going to ask someone who they don’t see as dependable. I volunteer at church every week, and I have been asked countless times if that’s okay because they don’t want to overwork me. Every time I say I don’t mind, and I assume Yosuke would have the same reaction if asked. Not only is it Yosuke’s natural instinct to help people, but he was kind of a pushover before the events of (and at the start of) Persona 4. In his third awakening, Yosuke says he was overworked and taken for granted. That’s not okay, and it’s a huge problem, but Mr. Hanamura isn't the cause of that. Mr. Hanamura is the general manager; his job isn’t to create the part-timer’s schedules.

It’s true that Yosuke tries to work out the problems of other employees and listens to their complaints. There is no indication that Yosuke was told to do this, and I don’t know why he would be. In his social link, there are two girls who act as if he has more power than he does. They demand a raise, ask him to give them the day off, and assume he has knowledge about another employee’s schedule. Yosuke says he doesn't have the power to help them, and in a manga page he says “I may be the manager’s son, but I’m still just an employee.” Yosuke is doing much more than the average part-timer, but he isn’t being given the responsibilities of a manager.

As for the Junes concert, Mr. Hanamura did not tell Yosuke he was going to be fired. Yosuke came to that conclusion himself. Mr. Hanumura did not ask Yosuke to find a solution or ask Rise for help. Yosuke only asked Rise for help because he was scared of moving again. I understand how the phrase “awfully nice for some reason” could come across as odd, but I don’t think he meant his dad isn’t usually nice. In the Persona 4 Manga that scene is translated as “My Dad’s been extra nice to me” meaning his dad is nice, he’s just being extra nice, and I’m not surprised. Yosuke was extremely unhappy when he moved to Inaba. Despite trying to hide his feelings, you can see in The Magician that he didn’t do a very good job of it. And now that Yosuke is finally happy, they might be forced to move again. Of course, Mr. Hanamura would feel guilty. Oftentimes, when people feel guilty, they start acting nicer - unnaturally so - to make themselves feel better. Chie (who is already very kind) even does it after she and Yukiko spend Yosuke’s money on clothes for Teddie. Yosuke notices the shift in her attitude and tells her that he’s worried. It’s the same reaction he had toward his dad’s behavior.

The only reason I bring up Chie is to show an in-game example of someone being overly nice due to guilt. What Chie did was wrong, that’s why she feels guilty. The reason Mr. Hanamura would feel guilty is his job may have to move his entire family again. The cause of their guilt is different, but they are responding the same way.

I don’t think Mrs. Hanamura not wanting her son to own porn is unreasonable. My mom doesn’t like magic, so I wasn’t allowed to read or watch Harry Potter growing up. Similarly, a friend of mine wasn’t allowed to watch iCarly. As for Mrs. Hanamura burning Yosuke’s porn in Arena, that’s the third time (that we know of) that she’s seen his porn. I assume she’s told him she doesn’t want him looking at pornography, but he continues to do so anyway. Burning his magazines may seem dramatic, but she was likely just frustrated that he kept disobeying her.

I don’t think Yosuke’s parents are the reason why Yosuke wants to be seen as manly. I haven’t seen anything that implies that. I think Yosuke’s desperation to be seen as a man comes from Japanese society and his fears regarding his sexuality.

Mr. Hanamura came up with this slogan because they were selling jinbei's which are traditionally worn by men. It’s a play on words. This isn’t the first time Mr. Hanamura has come up with a cringey slogan.

It seems Mr. Hanamura has that stereotypically “dad humor” which is typically associated with positive father figures (it’s not always). Yosuke saying his dad is still saying the “MANsoon” slogan gave me reminds of kids being like “Dad, that’s a bad joke, stop”, but the dad continuing to make his bad jokes regardless. It’s very Disney Channel and sit-com like.

I don’t remember Teddie saying he watches violent war movies with Mr. Hanamura, but I don’t see how that connects to the idea of Mr. Hanamura pushing Yosuke to be a “more masculine, traditional, unshakable, unemotional man.” The idea that only those types of men watch war movies is the type of thinking Kanji’s and Naoto’s shadows were trying to address. I don’t think Mr. Hanamura cares about being that type of stereotypical/traditional man because of his relationship with Teddie. Teddie is not very masculine (he even says so in Persona Q, screenshot will be later), and he isn’t hiding it.

This exchange is from Kanji’s Persona 4 Club Profile. Teddie went to the store to buy female clothing, and he asked Kanji to make him a dress (the one from the cross dressing pageant). He already owned his “Alice dress” before the cross dressing competition, and I assume he’s worn it. In Arena, you can see the dress is hung out in the open in their bedroom. He also wears hair clips.

This is not “masculine behavior” yet the Hanamuras don’t seem to have a problem with it. If anything, I’d say they’re pretty open-minded. If they disliked that way Teddie behaved, Teddie would change himself to fit the way they want him to be. I mean, the kid literally grew two new bodies in effort to get people to like him. Due to Teddie’s low self-esteem and need to be loved, he takes any sort of criticism to heart and does his best to act the way others want him too. In Persona Q, Yukari says he’d be cute if he was quiet, so Teddie stops talking.

In Persona Q, Teddie says he’s realized that to steal hearts he needs to be manly. He gets this realization from Koromaru. He did not think this prior.

Teddie saying Koromaru gave him this realization means the Hanmuras never said anything to him about his less masculine behavior.

As for the song lyrics you posted, I don’t really think that means anything. Yeah, people often relate to the music they listen to, but they don’t have to relate to every lyric or even song. My favorite artist is Taylor Swift, but I don’t really like romance. I don’t relate to most of her songs, but I still jam out to them. I could be super wrong about the song thing though because I’m not a huge music person.

My Own Additional Analysis (with some elements of response)

In this section I’m going to talk about Mr. and Mrs. Hanamura’s character and personality, their relationship with each other, Teddie, and Yosuke.

Let’s start off by talking about their personality. They seem to be very carefree people. Yosuke has less than average grades. In the Persona 4 Animation, he didn’t even show up to one of the exam days. Academics is extremely important in Japanese society, yet his parents don’t seem to be pushing him to get better grades. Considering how carefree Yosuke can be, it makes sense that he may have gotten that trait from his parents.

Yosuke’s family is pretty wealthy. It’s mentioned more than once. They also live in a pretty big house (you can see it in The Magician), Yosuke’s cell phone seems to be a newer model, and he has a large, flatscreen TV in his bedroom which wouldn’t be very common when the game took place. Despite this, Yosuke works for his own money. He complains about being broke and needing save up. I think the reason why Yosuke has a job despite being well-off is because his parents want him to have work experience and grow up to be a hardworking person, so he can succeed in life. It makes me think that hardwork is important to them.

Due to this conversation, I think Mr. Hanamura is a very honest man. Yosuke says he was surprised his dad was against selling gas masks, likely because from a business standpoint, that’s a really big missed opportunity. I think it’s also worth noting that ATLUS talks a lot about how people naturally fit into the masses, including the main characters. That’s why it’s surprising that his father is going against the masses. Although he’s losing money and has faced many hardships running Junes, Mr. Hanamura refused to do something that was against his moral compass.

In Persona 4 Drama CD #1, Junes is closing down half of the electronics section due to a lack of sales. Despite this taking place in March, Teddie panics and hopes to sell a TV set in a month in exchange for keeping the TV they enter the TV World through where it is.

Yosuke isn’t afraid to ask his dad two huge favors with a not very good reason (side note: Yosuke had to lie because the truth is that’s the TV he and his friends used to go into the TV world and fight shadows). Despite Yosuke’s best efforts, his father says no. He doesn’t really have any choice but to close part of the electronics floor. Junes is losing money by keeping it open. I think Mr. Hanamura gave him the vouchers because that’s the only other way he can help. Teddie made a deal that if he sells one TV set by the end of the month, they’ll keep the TV that leads to the TV world. He’s trying to advertise the TV set by promising other surprise items coming with it. These Junes vouchers are part of those surprise items.

It’s no secret that many of the shopping district families despise Junes and the Hanamuras. Many horrible things have been said about their family, yet Junes still teams up with the shopping district in the YasoInaba Case File to help keep them afloat. Whether or not this was Mr. Hanamura’s idea, he’s the one who has to approve it, and he does. Despite being treated horribly by them, he still wants to help the shopping district. Junes teaming up with shopping district might be a good business move, but they didn’t really need to do that. The problem is that Junes is taking away the shopping district’s business. Junes doesn’t need to team up with the shopping district to do well. The two of the teaming up benefits the shopping district way more than Junes. It doesn’t do much for Junes other than the shopping district maybe not hating them. At the end of the day, the shopping district families would still shop at the shopping district to keep their businesses afloat, so Junes isn’t getting a lot more business.

When Teddie came to the real world, Yosuke offered to take Teddie home with no hesitation. He didn’t think it would be a problem with his parents or show any concern about how he would convince them. I think this goes along with them being pretty carefree as well as showing that they’re kind and generous people. Not everyone is willing to take others in like that. Yosuke’s also comfortable with asking his parents such a huge favor.

Teddie talks about Yosuke’s parents in a really positive light, and I would say they treat him like their own son. For example, on January second Teddie says, “I got New Year’s gifts! Yosuke’s mom and dad gave them to me!” (edit: Someone said “notice how Yosuke doesn’t say the same thing.” He doesn’t need to. It’s Japense culture to give younger family members gifts for new Year’s. Yosuke saying something would be the equivalent of, “omg my parents gave me a birthday present!!” It would have been weirder if he did say something then. Teddie is excited because because this is his first New Year’s. He’s never experienced this before. Also, Yosuke did get New Year’s money. He talks about saving it on 1/10 when walking to school).

I think I remember Teddie saying he watches movies with Mrs. Hanamura, but I have no idea where he says that. There’s a 50/50 chance I made that up and convinced myself it was canon, so don’t take my word on that one.

Teddie breaks A LOT of rules at Junes. He steals topsicles, rode a handi mover through the store, slept on both a display bed and the floor of electronics department, been yelled at for eating samples, been chased by store security, and Yosuke had to monitor Teddie during his late night shift because they didn’t trust him to work alone. Teddie’s a terrible employee, yet he hasn’t been fired. I think the reason for this is he’s basically the manager’s son. I do want to say that just because they consider Teddie as their own child doesn’t mean they treat Yosuke as anything less. I haven’t seen a single thing that has implied that there is favoritism going on.

Yosuke and Teddie act a lot like brothers (Naoki even suspects that they're related), and Yosuke’s parents seem to treat Teddie like their own son. He even wears their family crest in offical art. I looks like ATLUS wnted the four of them to be a family. And If that’s the case, it wouldn’t make any sense for Mr. and Mrs. Hanamura to be bad parents.

Additionally, if Mr. and Mrs. Hanamura treated Yosuke badly, and Teddie noticed, I think Teddie would say something.

The second Yukari said something slightly mean about Yosuke, Teddie defended him. He doesn’t like when other people say mean things about Yosuke. Not to mention conflict really stresses him out. If Yosuke’s parents treated him badly, I there’s a chance Teddie might see the problem.

I think it’s also worth noting that Yosuke’s parents have a really healthy marriage.

This quote implies that they’re rarely apart and get along really well. A happy marriage doesn’t automatically equal a healthy household or good parents, but it really increases the likelihood.

For context, Yosuke is talking about Teddie in this picture. I’m not from Japan, so I don’t know if most families there eat breakfast together, but my family - despite being very close - does not. We all eat and start our day at different times. In my mind, eating breakfast together is a very domestic thing to do. Even the phrase “Hanamura family breakfast” screams domestic to me.

This conversation gives me the sense that Mr. Hanamura has a great deal of trust and respect for Yosuke. I mean, I don’t think he would accept Yosuke’s idea if he didn’t. Adding a kid’s menu would be pretty exspensive. Not only do they have to print the kid’s menu, but they have to design them, create new menu items, and depedning on what’s on the menu buy more food or ingredients. That adds up, and if it isn’t successful then they’ll lose money. Mr. Hanamura has to approve that idea, and he’s putting in trust that it’s going to be successful. Also, Yosuke is comfortable enough to “push really hard” for his idea.

All in all, it is my personal opinion that the Hanamurs are a really close family. It would make sense for ATLUS to go in that direction to create a contrast to the Narukami’s, after all. That being said, neither headcanon is wrong. It just comes down to how we interpret the very little information we’re given.

#yosuke hanamura #teddie persona 4 #persona 4 teddie #teddie #not a quote #analysis #persona 4 #p4 #Hanamura bros

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jawllines · 3 years

Note

Sorry to be annoying but I asked awhile ago and I think tumblr ate my ask but did you ever do tattoo Harry blurb? I love them and I miss them:( I’ve looked through your tags and there isn’t any on there if you have posted one

I CAN POST ONE I WROTE A WHILE AGO RIGHT NOW :D I DONT THINK I POSTED HERE BUT LET ME KNOW HERE YOU GO PET

“Baby -- baby, c’mon!”

It was rare that Harry ever woke Y/N with more than kisses and cuddles. Maybe an abrupt shoulder shake if the both of them slept through their alarms (and, considering that they are the only ones with the key to open up their own respective stores, they never typically arrived late facing happy employees -- or in Y/N’s case, employee -- Niall, in particular, was always more of a grump in that situation than Riktor even), but even that still managed to be tender, and soft. He always treated her so delicately, as if she were made up of porcelain in the morning and it was imperative to speak in a low, soothing voice with careful touches or she might shatter. And she really didn’t think it was because she was an absolute terror to wake up -- Y/N did quite well, even as early as 5 AM she was still in somewhat of a pleasant mood, certainly nothing to be fearful of -- she thinks he’s just gentle in the morning. He’s gentle all the time, but for some reason or another, he’s extra soft with her then.

They had both had a bit of a busy day, so by the time that they made it back to Y/N’s flat (Harry said he liked it there best because it smelled like her, and -- well, he softens her up and calls her Darling when he wants them to go over there, so it’s hard to say no), both of them were ready for bed. Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open as they scarfed down the burgers they’d picked up on the way home, and once they’d finished and brushed their teeth, they toppled into each other on the mattress. Y/N would reckon they both fell asleep before their heads had even hit the pillow -- she doesn’t even remember crawling beneath the blankets.

Apparently she had though, because now as her brain tunes in with the world around her and she realizes that the distorted voice that had begun to prod her dreams was actually a grumpy, dry throat Harry, she’s cuddling herself closer in the covers. This only makes him grumble at her more, “You’re such a blanket hog,” he whines and Y/N finally blinks her eyes open, being greeted with Harry’s disgruntled, pouted face illuminated by the sunlight beginning to slip through the blinds, “I’ve been trying to unravel it for like ten minutes, but you’re all wrapped up! I’m cold.”

Y/N smiles sleepily at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation entirely as she begins to un-burrito herself from the covers, “G’morning, beautiful,” she murmurs as she does so, finally disentangling from the blankets and while she was a little less warm, Harry was quick to wiggle in beneath them, “Sorry.”

“Don’ be sweet when m’tryin’ to be angry with you,” she puckers her lips at him dramatically, and though he sighs, he leans in and presses their mouths together softly, “Your kisses aren’t g’na sweeten me up, m’still grumpy, blanket hog.”

She can only hum as she cuddles closer to him, “Sorry,” she repeated, this time adding, “Like to swaddle myself like a lil’ baby. Reckon you weren’t holdin’ me well enough last night.”

An offended gasp leaves through his lips soundly, enough that it startles her, but his arms worm around her waist and draw her closer to his body, “Brat,” he grumbled, dipping his nose into her throat, “I held you so well and you just wiggled right out of my arms and took all the covers with you.”

“Like a worm -- I wiggled out like a worm or somethin’,” she tried to sit up but his arms tightened around her, “This worm has to pee though and she’ll soak the bed if she isn’t allowed.”

His arm loosens around her, “This worm sounds like she’s a sleepy sort of delusional that requires about two hours more of rest.”

Y/N stumbles toward the bathroom in her room, “Noooooooo,” she whines, frowning at nobody, not bothering to swing the door shut before she plops on the cold toilet seat to relieve herself, “We’re supposed to go get hot chocolate, no more sleep.”

“Baby, it’s 6 AM and I’ve been up the last 30 minutes freezing my bits off!” He calls back to her and she giggles some, her eyes trying to accommodate to the bright white lights of the bathroom, “Sleep just a bit more and we’ll get the hot chocolate when we wake up next.”

She waits until she flushes and washes her hands to respond to him, and though she knows that she is definitely going to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, she stands at the foot of it with her hands in fists at her hips. He had let his eyes flutter closed by then but she thinks he could feel her eyeballing him, so he looks up past the mountain of blankets now covering him so she could only see his eyes and his nose, “What’re you doing?”

“You’re telling me, you don’t wanna go at 6 AM, three hours before the kiosk even opens to get hot chocolate with me? You must really hate me, don’t you?”

He huffs a sharp breath through his nose which is how he usually laughs in the morning, when he can’t muster up the strength to have a proper giggle, “Absolutely loathe you, baby doll, but could you please come back to bed so I can loathe you in the warmth?”

It takes little persuading -- as she said, she knew she was just going to crawl right back in beside him -- and instead of relying too heavily on the blankets to provide her warmth (like wrapping up half of it around her so she was cocooned entirely. . .this is what she normally does, and she would say that’s probably why Harry almost never has any of the covers in the morning), she relies on him. Picks up his arm so that she can fit herself underneath it and lies her cheek on his chest, “Your pits better not be smelly.”

“I make no promises.”

. . .

“I love your hair.”

“Stop it, Sweetheart, I’m g’na start blushing.”

They had slept for four more hours rather than the two Harry had originally suggested, but that always happens with them. Y/N would say that they are just too content cuddled up with one another that they milk it for all it’s worth. If one of them wakes up before the other, then they just settle their head back down and close their eyes again. Unless they had somewhere to be, of course, but Harry had a free Saturday (no clients schedule, even though Saturday’s could often be some of his heaviest days) and he’d elected to spend it with her -- whether they were awake or asleep didn’t much mater, they just liked to be near each other.

When they finally did wake up, they lazily got dressed into about thirty layers so they wouldn’t freeze outside. The weather had grown frigid quite quickly this November, and neither of them stood the cold very well, but there was a park lined with little pop-up kiosks with hot chocolate, sweets, little holiday goodies, and an obscene amount of knitted blankets (it was a clever marketing tactic, Y/N thought -- everyone is more willing to spend money on a blanket when they’re freezing cold - she and Harry had certainly fallen for it today). Y/N bought them shoe warmers to keep their toes at least not numb, and Harry lets her borrow a pair of his gloves because she keeps forgetting to buy some of her own. They both have hats fitted over their heads too, and since Harry’s let his hair grow out, his curls stick out from beneath the pumpkin orange print and Y/N can’t stop staring at it. She’s always loved his hair, she told him as much one of the first nights they’d sat on her bookstore’s floor and talked about just a bit of everything. Back when she barely realized she had a crush on him. . . .when she didn’t know that in just a little time, she would be over the moon.

And she’ll never forget that people used to make him feel like shit about his hair, so she maybe overcompensates by telling him every time she has thought about loving it. Which means today, in the span of a short three hours they’d been awake, Y/N had complimented his hair about twenty different times. If she was running her fingers through it, fixing his beanie, or just staring at him, she let him know just how much she adored his curls.

“I hate to tell you this, Button, but your cheeks are already red as apples,” she shifted the paper cup of hot chocolate from her hand closest to him to the other, so she could reach up and tuck them behind his ear, that had reddened from the cold, “The air has you more bashful than I ever could.”

“Not true,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he knocks closer to her ear, “I always blush when you go down on me.”

“God,” Y/N shakes her head, “You’re too much, d’ya know that?”

He laughs, nudging her with the cold tip of his nose, “You want the peppermint bark? We’re coming up on the seller.”

“Of course, I want peppermint bark,” she reaches for her wallet, “I’m stocking us up for the next hundred years or so.”

Harry slows for a moment, sliding his gloved hand into her own and squeezing, “Hey,” he begins, his voice soft, somewhat reflective and it brings her attention to him at her side, “Y’know when -- you remember how you said you just get random flushes of love for me and s’a whole lot and you just don’t know what to do with it?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, like every waking minute practically. Why?”

He smiles shyly, “I’m having one of those moments.”

“For the peppermint bark?” She teases, but his brows furrow and he swats her shoulder playfully, “Hey!”

“I’m trying to be sweet on you, and you’re still going on about this bloody chocolate,” he rubs the arm that he swats, even though Y/N has so many layers on plus the blanket that she bought wrapped around her, that he made no real contact with her body.

Y/N pulls him in for a hug, narrowly avoiding a child running past them as she does so, “Oh, you know m’only kidding. I love you too, Bug, more than words can describe and ten times more than the chocolate I reckon. . .well, unless it’s made really well this year.”

“I’ll leave you here, blanket hog.”

#blurbs #Anonymous

163 notes · View notes

127-mile · 3 years

Text

Bots and books.

Pairing: Artificial intelligence Ten x female reader.

Genre: AI, bookstore | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Ten thinks robots are superior to humans.

Plot: When your boss asked you to train the new employee, you didn’t think you would end up with a robot freshly out of the factory.

Word count: +5.3k.

A/N: This is part of the AI project #14320 collab hosted by @pastelsicheng.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

When you hear Taeil's voice behind you, you drop the book you were holding, and when it crashes on your foot, you pursed your lips so as not to be vulgar when so many customers are in the store. "Oh boy, I'm sorry, I should have warned you that I was here." Taeil whispers, and when you look over your shoulder, you notice that he doesn't look embarrassed by the situation, or ashamed, on the contrary, he looks amused.

"I feel like you are trying to hurt me, am I wrong?" you ask, squinting, and he shrugs. At least he bends down to pick up the book and put it where it was supposed to go. "Maybe I'm just trying to get you to go home because you're spending too much time here, maybe I didn't do it on purpose, who knows." If he wasn't your boss, you would have insulted him, but you care about your job, and you like being able to pay your rent every month without having to ask your parents for help.

“I don't spend too much time here, I even think that I don't spend enough time here. But getting back to what caused you to come bother me, yes we can talk. What do you want?" you turn completely towards him, and you tilt your head to the side. "We're going to have a new employee tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could take care of him, show him how the bookstore works, show him how to use the cash register, you know, everything that I taught you when I hired you."

"Aren't you supposed to take care of it, as the boss?" you ask, and he takes his hands out of the pockets of his pants when a client approaches, he smiles at her, and when she disappears, he regains his slumped position. "Are you listening when I'm talking to you?" you know it's a rhetorical question and yet you shake your head, you're not going to lie, you tend to stop listening when he talks for too long. Can he blame you? He has a soft voice that lulls you to sleep.

"I vividly remember telling you last week that I had to go away for a few days. I have an appointment in another city for my next book." oh yes, you remember hearing him mention a new book, an appointment with his publisher, and other people who might help him, but you don't remember hearing him mention the date, or how long he would be gone. "Am I going to have to spend weeks putting books away with your head on the cover? I better get a raise for that!"

"Why would you get a raise, you should be happy to see my face on books!" you could tell him that yes, it's an honor to work with a famous writer, but you don't want to give him that pleasure. "So if I have to take care of the new employee, does that mean that I will also be the boss until you come back from your vacation?"

"It's not a vacation," he mumbles, and you smirk, it's so easy to annoy Taeil, and that's why you like him so much. "but yes, you will be in charge of the store until I return. So are you okay with that?" you know you don't have a choice, that you are the only person working here that he trusts enough to entrust his shop, his baby. "Of course I agree! I won't miss an opportunity to turn a new employee against you."

"Maybe I'll take this opportunity away from the store to find a new employee, to replace you. I've had enough of you!" you're very happy that customers are around, otherwise he certainly would have shouted to sound more dramatic. "You can't fire me, because I'll ruin your business, and you love me way too much, you'll be bored without me. Do I also need to remind you that you wouldn't have a manuscript for your editor to read if I hadn't been there to force you to write?"

Rather than respond, Taeil walks away muttering something between clenched teeth, and if a client wasn't calling for your help to find a book, you most likely would have laughed at his behavior.

Night has fallen for an hour or so when you finally lock the bookstore door behind you, and when the cold wind caresses your cheeks, you sigh deeply. You like this place, it's a bit of a second home for you, but good god, you want to be at home, even if you have to deal with your roommates' antics until you fall asleep.

"Excuse me?"

Your blood freeze in your body, you should have checked that no one was around the store when you went out, because Taeil is already gone, and he won't be there to help you if a drunken idiot, or a little too pushy keeps you from coming home. You take a deep breath, but it hitches in your throat when you turn on your heels. "Can I help you?" you ask in a voice that you hope is not too shaky.

The young man stays silent for a while, and you frown when he tilts his head a little too slowly not to look like a killer straight out of the horror movies you love so much. You clear your throat, and he seems to take notice of the question put to him, so he nods, extending a hand to you. "You dropped that." in his hand, you see the notebook that you always keep in your bag, bag that you have thrown over your shoulder without even taking the time to close it.

The lump that had formed in your throat is disappearing as quickly as it came, and you refrain from sighing in relief. "Oh, thank you very much!" you take the notebook that you put in your bag before closing the zip. "Thank you?" the young man answers, but before you can open your mouth he walks away from the shop.

You happen to meet strange people, but this is the first time you've met someone like him, someone who seems surprised to have been thanked for something as mundane as returning a notebook. Taeil would say that this is a person's first life on earth. Him and his writer mind.

Even though the stranger didn't look dangerous, you make sure he got far enough away to walk in the direction of the stairs leading to the underground metro. If you're not a fan of this place, you like being there at this late hour, because it's not so crowded, and it's easy for you to find a seat in the metro. You push your headphones into your ears, and you look up at the screen near the sliding door.

You roll your eyes when you see the ads for LSM going on. If you were to earn $10 every time you saw it on TV, or heard it on the radio, you would have enough to pay your rent for at least six months without needing to work. This really isn't an exaggeration, the company really wants everyone to know about what they are offering, new updates on their bots, and how excited they are to have sent the most of their new robots in the world for work, for study, or for entertainment.

You have nothing against robots, you just think it's a shame to take jobs from people who genuinely need to work, but apparently: "robots aren't here to replace you, they're here to make it easier for you. Do not be scared, technology is good, we need it." You're not sure if you're okay with that, and you'll let it know when the robots take over the world.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost forget to get up to get out of the metro, these damn robots will end up making you miss your stop. Yes, sometimes it's much easier to blame the robots than it is to accept your responsibilities.

"Johnny, if you don't get out of the bathroom in a minute, I swear to god I'll make you swallow your camera!"

you growl, and you open your eyes. Why do you always have to wake up regretting all the decisions that brought you here, living with two roommates who are ready to tear their heads off at the first opportunity offered to them. "And I'll make you eat your books back if you do that!" you hear Johnny respond, and you wonder why the neighbors haven't filed a noise complaint yet. You would have done it since day one.

"Doyoung, you don't work Saturdays, why are you already up?" you ask in a voice loud enough to be heard, and what you didn't want to happen happens. The door opens, and your gaze meets Doyoung's, he has furrowed brows and dark circles, since when has he not slept? "For your information, young lady, I would be sleeping if Johnny hadn't knocked on my door at six in the morning to ask me for the time!"

"Not that I want to stand up for him, but you looked for it by setting his alarm clock to go off at five the other day." you answer, and he rolls his eyes as he walks into your room to drop into the bed, and you groan when his back blocks your legs. "Doyoung, I have to go to work, so if you could move that would be very nice." he doesn't move, and you wiggle your legs until you can free one. "As soon as I convince Taeil to give me a raise, I'll find myself another apartment and I won't have to deal with you anymore." you mumble, and Doyoung chuckles.

"Even if he agreed to give you a raise, which he won't do until he has published two more books, you won't leave. You don't like silence, and you will miss us too much after the first day." he's not wrong, but you could always find a new roommate. "It's okay, I'll find someone else. Someone who doesn't make me want to throw myself out the window every morning."

"If you need help finding a new roommate, ask us, we'll be happy to help." you sigh when you hear Johnny, and when you turn your head, you roll your eyes. Johnny is in the doorframe, a towel hanging low around his hips, and drops of water falling from his hair. "We'll find you someone good. Or someone worse than us, Doyoung and I will have to talk about it before we decide."

Before Doyoung can react, you free your second leg, grab your clothes for the day, and head to the bathroom, not without pushing Johnny out of the way. "Y/n, I'll make you eat your fucking books!" Doyoung growls as he straightens up, and you laugh. You know he can do it, but before that, he'll take the time to find the worst book in your book shelves to do it, so you'll have plenty of time to run away, change your identity and be forgotten.

You need less time than Johnny to shower, and to be ready to go. When you come out of the bathroom, you notice that the two boys are still in your room, and they are chatting as if they hadn't threatened each other less than twenty minutes ago. "Are you going to stay in my bed? Don't you have bedrooms, or a couch where you can talk?" Doyoung looks up, and he smirks. "Your bed is much more comfortable. We're talking about what to do with this room when you're gone." little shit.

"Well, since I'm apparently the only one working here, I'm going to go. See you tonight, or never." you get your bag that you throw on your shoulder and you stick your tongue out at Johnny who waves to you without moving from your bed, the sheets are going to be damp because of him, and you want to hit him for that, but that might make you late for work.

You leave the apartment, and like the day before, you quickly find the stairs leading to the underground metro, and unlike yesterday, it's more difficult to find your way through the students, workers and partygoers who have just returned from a party the night before. You concentrate on your breathing to avoid letting yourself be overwhelmed by the different smells of perfume, sweat, and alcohol.

When the doors slide open, you quickly get out of the train, and you find the outside. You never thought you would miss the clean air as much as since you started taking the subway to work. Since Taeil is away, the shop is still closed, and it takes you at least five minutes to find the keys in your bag, and for a second, you wonder if you haven't left them at home, but you sigh with relief when your fingers come in contact with the cold surface of a key.

You unlock the door, and walk into the store smiling at the familiar scent of old books piling up in part of the store. When you started working here, you asked Taeil what the old books were for, that they would never be sold, but now you see the charm of the old book with the damaged binding, the sound of the pages, and you wouldn't do without them. You put your bag on the counter, and you turn on the lights.

Taeil must have gone to the store before leaving, because you can find the boxes already behind the counter. You could have taken care of the delivery, but Taeil likes to check that everything is there, even if he might be late for an appointment that could really change his writing life, even if in your opinion, he is already quite popular and doesn't need more help.

You sit up when you hear the door open, and you open your mouth. "We're not open yet, sorry." you say, and if you expected the door to close, it stays open, and when you look at the person, your eyes open wide. This is the man who gave you your notebook back last night, and once again, he tilts his head far too slowly not to be awkward to watch.

“I'm LC27296,” he begins, but he shakes his head with a certain vigor that you would never have at this time of the morning. "I'm Ten, I'm going to work here." your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. For a minute, you forgot that you were supposed to take care of the new employee. "Taeil told me to come before the opening to make it easier." oh he did that?

"Before I introduce myself, I have a question for you. What were you doing here last night?" you ask and he suddenly seems nervous. "I- I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to make sure of how long it would take me to get here, so that I wouldn't be late for my first day." you hum, not sure you believe it, but it's not like you can accuse him of something without having any proof whatsoever. "Alright. I'm Y/n, I'll take care of teaching you how the store works until Taeil comes back in a few days. You can shut the door."

Ten does, and he approaches the counter, he doesn't seem in his element, but if Taeil hired him it's because he saw something in him. "Why did you give me numbers when I asked you for your name?" you suddenly ask, curious.

"Oh! It's my serial number, but I was told I had to introduce myself with my name, it makes it easier to fit in." a serial number, what the hell? You frown as you take your phone from the pocket of your jacket, and you open up the conversation with Taeil.

To Taeil: A serial number, what's wrong with the guy you hired?

Taeil must still be in the car, or on the train, since the answer is not long in coming. You shouldn't ignore Ten, but you need an answer before you decide whether you want to be locked up with a stranger all day, or not.

From Taeil: Ten is a robot. LSM sent me a letter a few weeks ago asking if I wanted to take any of them, and I said yes.

To Taeil: And you didn't find it useful to tell me that I was going to have to train a robot? And besides, aren't they already programmed to know how to do everything, why should I waste my time training him? Is this your way of telling me that I'm fired and that you will only hire bots from now on?

You don't get a response, which shouldn't surprise you, so you put your phone on the counter, and you meet Ten's gaze, who hasn't moved an inch. Did he himself on pause while you were busy? "So you are a robot?" you ask in a small voice, and he nods. "Yeah, you didn't know?" honestly no, even though LSM has some amazing quality robots you would expect to see them with bolts and metal.

"It's my first day away from the factory, and I'm very happy to be here!" he adds, and you roll your eyes, if he's happy that's the main thing, but you're not sure you are. "You can think of me as a human being like any other, no need to make a difference because I am superior to you." you gasp at him, but you can't help but smile, stunned. "Just because you're made of metal doesn't mean you're superior to us. I'm sure if I throw water at you you'll rust and stop working, so in a way, I'm superior."

"You can try, but it won't work! That would be stupid to think we fear water, or fire, or anything for that matter, right?" oh, it might get hectic if he continues. "How about I show you how the store works? Because if we talk any longer, I might look for other ways to turn you off, and you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?" he shakes his head, a worried look on his face. Perfect.

You're going to have a serious conversation with Taeil, you think, showing him where the books go, how the cash register works, and where the storeroom is, storeroom that is also used as a rest room.

"For starters, you're going to go to the storeroom, and you're going to sort all the books alphabetically while sorting them by genre, can you do that, oh you superior robot?" you ask, tilting your head, and he shrugs his shoulders. "Of course I can do it!" Taeil never asked that the books in the storeroom to be sorted, since most are unsold books that will be donated to associations or the city library, but you don't want to have him in your legs when the first customers arrive.

You take your phone, and you send one last message to Taeil before turning on the light in the storefront indicating that the store is open.

To Taeil: This robot is an idiot, and if he pisses me off too much, I'm going to fire him whether you like it or not.

To make sure you don't receive an answer, you turn off your phone before throwing it in your bag before starting to put away the new books. And surprisingly, the morning goes off without a hitch. Ten comes out once or twice to ask you for advice on an unfamiliar book, the few customers who come in don't need your help, so that's nice.

When the time comes to close the shop for the next two hours, you enter the storeroom. Ten is sitting on the ground, and he's surrounded by books that should have been put away for a long time now, but the robot seems way too deep in reading to do the job you asked him to do. You frown. "Do you know that reading is not part of your contract?"

Ten doesn't react, he just turns the page and laughs at something he just read. "Taeil buys LSM magazines, I'll go check if I can't find an article on how to deactivate a robot if it becomes threatening." you say, and immediately Ten lifts his head to look at you. "But I'm not threatening!" he exclaims, like a petulant child would.

He may be a robot, but he has typically human reactions, which is strange in itself. At least for you. "They won't have to know when I throw your body in front of the factory you came from." you answer in a slow voice, and Ten finds himself on his feet, not without slipping a bookmark in his book so as not to lose his progress. "Sorry, I found this book, and it's so interesting I couldn't help myself."

You look at the title, and you smirk. You hide in the storeroom when you don't feel like coming home, and it's one of the books you've read. "If you don't want me to tell you who the killer is, you're going to finish putting those books away, and then I'll give you time to read until the store closes tonight, do we have a deal?"

He mumbles something between his teeth, but ends up nodding. You walk away from the room before remembering that you had a question for him, so you go back. "Do robots eat?" you wouldn't want to deprive him of his lunch break and end up with some sort of robots protection squad on your back for mistreatment. "Yes, we eat. I told you, we are like you."

"It's break time so you'll finish tidying up later." Ten passes over a pyramid of books, and he leaves the room, not without taking his book with him. "So, what are we going to eat?" he suddenly asks, and you want to take his book and hit yourself with it. "What do you mean, we?"

"Taeil told me you would take me out to eat with you so I wouldn't be alone in the store." Taeil should remember to tell you when he decides something, because you can't continue to be surprised every time he opens his mouth. "Did he say that?" a nod. "Great. I'm going home to eat, so I think you're going to meet the two most annoying people on this planet after you."

He squeals with delight and you roll your eyes as you pick up your bag. You exit the store by locking the door behind Ten, and you head for the subway train. "I love meeting new humans, you are all so fascinating!" you wonder what can be fascinating about humans, but for a robot, everything has to be. "What fascinates you so much about us?" you ask going down the stairs, being careful that Ten keeps following you, you don't feel like looking for a lost robot in the streets.

"We can feel emotions, but they're programmed for us, so it's not as real as when you feel them." human emotions are difficult to understand, humans are confusing. "I think it's pretty nice to be programmed to feel certain things, it's probably easier, less confusing."

"You're wrong," Ten starts to say, following you in the subway, he sits next to you not without looking at a little dog with stars in his eyes, as if he had never seen a dog in real life, so much so that you wonder if there are robot dogs, you'll have to ask him one of these days. "We're forced to feel the emotions, so we don't understand them. Being programmed doesn't mean we understand what's going on."

It's pretty sad, you think.

"Do you have a program that allows you to kill us if we becomes threatening for you?" you ask in a low voice so as not to attract the attention of the students around you. Ten's eyes widen and he chuckles. "No, we can't do that. We're not here to hurt you, just to help you." it's a shame, you would have needed it with Johnny and Doyoung.

"This is where we come down." Ten follows you to the door of your apartment. You can smell Doyoung's food already. He might be annoying, but when he's not working he always makes a snack for you for when you come home from work during the break, and that's very nice. "I live with two people, Johnny and Doyoung, they can be weird, and they might ask you tons of questions, so be prepared."

When you put your hand on the doorknob, Ten puts his hand on your wrist to stop you. "Wait, wait. Are they going to hurt me? Some humans can be mean when in the company of a robot." oh, he didn't sound so nervous earlier, but in a way you can understand that. "They're not mean, and they're quite fascinated by LSM's robots, so you have nothing to worry about, they won't do anything to you."

You open the door when he seems to be relaxing, and you sigh when you hear the loud voices that most likely come from the kitchen. "Johnny, how many times have I told you not to set foot in my kitchen? You're a walking hazard, you'll manage to set some water on fire if you wanted to! Get out!"

"Guys, I'm here. And I'm not alone, so if you could behave like normal people that would be really nice." you say and immediately Johnny's head pops out of the kitchen door jamb and you roll your eyes. "Oh hello mister stranger, who are you, are you our beloved Y/n's secret boyfriend?"

"I-" Ten seems unable to speak, and Johnny throws his head back when he notices the blush on Ten's cheeks as he lowers his head. "Oh, he's blushing! Adorable! He's in love but he hasn't had the courage to tell her yet. Doyoung, come see!" you should have known that they were going to mess with him. You should have warned them before you got home, threatened them, or promised to pay for the next pizza night.

"Shut up, big idiot! He's the new bookstore employee, we met this morning." you respond by swinging your bag in a corner of the apartment after removing your shoes. Ten does the same, and he follows you into the living room. You're pointing your index finger at the boys. "Johnny, Doyoung, this is Ten. He works with me."

"Oh, I didn't know Taeil was okay with hiring bots." Doyoung says, stunned. "How do you know it's a robot?" were you the only one who didn't have a clue? The only one that can't tell the difference between a robot and a human?

"It shows! And he's got LSM's name tattooed behind his ear." You'll have to go see the ophthalmologist to get glasses, because you didn't notice the black ink behind his ear. "Taeil didn't really hire me, it's just a contract for a couple of months to see how quickly I adapt to a new environment. Next time I'll be in a new place." oh, that's a detail you didn't know either, you thought Ten was here for good, at least until you got fired, or left.

"And can't you ask to stay at the bookstore for good?" you ask, sitting down in a chair, and Ten shrugs. "Why, have you already become attached to me? You refuse to see me go?" you could get up and hit him, but you don't want to break your fist if he is made of metal inside. "I said that because I wouldn't say no to less hours of work, dont think I appreciate you."

"She never introduced anyone to us, even casual employees, so you must be special." Johnny says winking at Ten, and you refrain from leaning over the table to hit him. "Taeil asked me to take care of him, what was I supposed to do, lock him in the storeroom with a piece of bread and a glass of water?"

"That's what you would have done with us, so yeah." he's not wrong, that's what you would have done if you had had Johnny and/or Doyoung as a colleague. "Anyway, we don't have all day, so if you could just leave Ten alone so we can eat." you mumble, but Ten shakes his head, apparently he doesn't mind being the center of attention. At least he knows that emotion, and he understands it, that's a good thing.

When it's time to go back to work, you almost have to pull Ten out of the apartment. "But why? I was having fun with your roommates!" of course he was having fun. "You can come back and see them if you want." you answer by going down the stairs. You have a little over thirty minutes left before you have to open the store, so rather than locking yourself in a subway train, you decide to walk.

"Really, you would let me come back?" you shrug your shoulders. "Why wouldn't I want to?" Ten plays with the hem of his hoodie, and you frown, he doesn't look like the type to be surprised or even slightly nervous over something as futil. "Because I wasn't very nice to you when I arrived this morning. But like I told you, some humans don't want us to fit in and want to harm us, and I heard so many stories that I defended myself if you ever decided to be like them."

"I don't understand robots, I don't understand LSM's motivation, but that doesn't mean I would hurt any of you. You should have waited, and you would have known it."

"I'm sorry Y/n, and I promise I'll do my job well until the end of my contract!" he exclaims, his smile back on his face. His beautiful face, moreover, you did not miss this detail. "I hope so, otherwise I won't give you time to read before closing." he gasps, but he laughs, and you have no choice but to laugh with him.

#nct #wayv #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #ten imagines #ten scenarios

42 notes · View notes

aremiies · 3 years

Text

DRUMMER BOY.

pairings: drummer!bakugou x fem!reader

warnings: a bit of swearing, fluff and bad writing, band!au

prompt(s): it’s a song prompt (v cheesy ik) the song is misery business by paramore.

part two.

not my gif !

—

“guys!” yelled a certain pink haired girl, as she chaotically ran into the stores back room to alert her friends of the newly aquired news she may or may not have learned two minutes prior. her friends, all on their lunch break, stopped what they were doing to look up to the girl who was practically jumping out of her skin.

“are you okay, mina? is there a reason you almost broke a rib trying to get through the door frame?” jirou raised a brow, looking up from her phone to entertain mina’s obvious excitement. mina squealed, trying to somewhat contain herself.

“can you get to the point already, dumbass?!” bakugou growled.

“yeah, mina,” kirishima added, “what’s got you so jumpy?”

mina sighed, somewhat dramatically, before she (finally) told her friends what she was so happy about, “so, guys, remember how we wanted to play a show at that lounge a couple blocks over?” her friends nodded before she continued, “they finally called back! the manager said it’s a yes!”

“no way.” jirou stood up.

“that’s great!” kaminari spoke up.

“yeah, no kidding! they approved of the songs?” kirishima inquired.

mina nodded, “yeah! i sent them them the lyrics to a couple of our songs, and they said that they didn’t mind which ones we played, but they’d really like if we played misery business. they’re even gonna pay us!”

“wait... isn’t that the song that you and jirou couldn’t get the vocals right to?” kaminari puzzled.

it went quiet for a second before bakugou groaned, “oh look, the pink freak didn’t think before she acted! what a surprise.”

“hey! don’t blame me i th-“

mina was cut off by bakugou’s thunderous yelling, “don’t blame you?! who else are we gonna blame?! you’re the one who sent in the request form!”

“guys, calm down,” kirishima laughed nervously, “i’m sure it’ll be fine. we could just change the chords of the song to compliment jirou’s vocal range.”

kaminari cut in, “or... no offense, maybe we could find somebody else with that vocal range to sing it for her. jirou already plays bass— oh! what about sero? we could ask him if he could-“

“no, dumbass, sero said he didn’t wanna be apart of the band anymore, remember?” bakugou grumbled.

before the group could think of anymore solutions, the bell on the front counter rang, followed by a voice calling out a to someone who could potentially help them checkout, “um... hello? is anyone back there?”

jirou sighed as she got up from the black leather couch that complimented the break room, “i’ll go help them. break is over anyways.” as jirou emerged from the back room, her eyes widened slightly as she spotted you holding a red, six stringed electric bass guitar. well, five strings actually, since it seemed that there was one missing.

“hi! sorry to keep you waiting, how can i help you today?” jirou smiled, walking behind the counter and taking in your features. you seemed like a shy type of girl... even if you weren’t, just by looking at you, she wouldn’t have suspected that you played electric guitar. your eyes looked so soft and your hands so delicate as they wrapped around the neck of the guitar. your clothes as well. as much as she didn’t want to stereotype, the clothes that adorned your body didn’t give in to the ‘edgy guitarist’ aesthetic that the guitar itself did. besides all that, she couldn’t help but to feel you looked oddly familiar.

“yeah actually, haha. i saw on the sign outside that you guys do string repairs? my ‘a’ string snapped a couple days ago..” you explained to the raven haired girl behind the counter.

jirou nodded, “yeah, of course! we’re actually having a sale right now, so if you’d like to get all you string replaced, it’d only cost $10.”

“oh? hell yeah, thanks. i’ve never taken myself to get my strings repaired, though... does it take long? should i leave and come back?” you trailed off.

she shook her head, “nah, all these should only take about ten minutes max.”

—

“so, what’s your name?” jirou made easy conversation as she began repairing your strings.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you... jirou?” you read her name tag.

she let out a small chuckle and nodded, “you as well. so, you in a band or something?”

“oh! no, i’ve thought about starting one before, but i don’t really have anyone to do so with. i write songs and play them on haru.” you explained.

“haru?”

“yeah, that’s her name.”

jirou chuckled once more, “you named your bass?”

“uh— duh.” you playfully rolled your eyes before another figure stepped from the back room, catching your attention.

“oh.” muttered the blonde.

jirou turned to look behind her, “oh, hey bakugou. is there anything you needed?”

the boy ignored her and walked towards the counter, “you play bass?” he asked you. crimson eyes boring into your y/e/c ones.

“y-yes. not a lot... just here and there when i think it’ll compliment one of my songs.” you verified.

“you write songs?” bakugou questioned.

“only when i’m bored-“

“what kind of songs are th-“

“katsuki! stop questioning her, this isn’t a police interrogation!” jirou interjected.

“what! don’t we need another person to sing that song? i’m trying to look for options.” he shrugged.

you furrowed your brows, “you guys are a band?”

“yeah, there’s more of us. they’re in the break room though.” jirou shared. “it’s just... okay, we have this ‘gig’ soon, and one of our members entered us in under a song that we can’t seem to get right. and it’s just our luck that, that’s the song the managers would likes us to sing especially.”

you tilted your head leaning on the counter as she spoke. as you did so, bakugou studied your features— just as jirou had done minutes before. he found you interesting. just as jirou had thought, he also didn’t see you as the type to play the electric guitar out of all the different types available.

“you don’t look like the type to play.” he blurted out.

“katsuki-!” jirou sighed.

“what?! she doesn’t. she’s so... average looking.” he reckoned.

your face dropped immediately and you turned to look at him, “excuse me? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s not a bad thing,” he began, “i’m just saying that you don’t look like the other people who come in her with these types of guitars.”

you subtly rolled your eyes before looking back to jirou, “so, what lounge are you supposed to be playing at?”

“the one a few blocks from here. it’s called ‘rolling red’ i believe.” she replied.

“oh! i’ve played there before!”

the two employees looked at you with furrowed brows, “you have?!”

the sudden realization crashed on top of jirou as soon as the words left her mouth, “that’s where i know you from! i’ve seen you play before! you played that cover of frances forever by mitski! i loved it, i thought about it for days after!”

you looked down at your feet as you felt your cheeks heat up, “th-thank you. i didn’t think it was that good..”

“well it was-! dude, you should totally sing for our band when we play our gig!” the usually laid back girl was brimming with happiness at the thought of finding their replacement singer on such short notice.

“i-i don’t know-“

before you could finish, you felt someone wrap their arms around your shoulders, “oh come on! you’d be great! your voice would sound great with the songs we have picked out!” you spot the pink toned arms around you and turn around.

“where did she come from?” you mumbled.

“so, what do you say? it’ll only be a one time thing.” jirou smiled hopefully.

you sighed and looked at the (now three) employees in front of you, “okay— w-wait. when is the gig anyways?”

“two weeks away.” the pink girl giggled.

“well... i guess it wouldn’t hurt.” you shrugged.

“really?! thank you!” mina engulfed you in a hug.

“yeah, don’t mention it.” you smiled.

jirou grinned and handed you your guitar, “meet us back here tomorrow. we can start our first official practice.”

you nodded, grabbing your wallet beginning to pay for the string repair before a hand fell over yours, “don’t bother. you agreeing to do this for us is payment enough... i- i guess.” bakugou hesitantly ensured.

you thanked the employees before exiting the store with a grin adorning your face. you barely knew these people, but you couldn’t help but to be the least bit excited.

—

“so, do you get it?” mina asked as she helped you understand the chords to the song.

you tilted your head in slight confusion, “uh... i think so? i’ve just never played so... aggressively? no offense.”

it was the next day and you were currently in one of the practice rooms in the back of the music store. you’d formally met everyone and it seemed that the rest of the band were cool with having you as their replacement singer. kirishima and kaminari thought you were pretty nice. bakugou said you were “pretty cool... i guess.”, but it was obvious that jirou and mina adored you the most. you weren’t too shy, you just weren’t rowdy. you weren’t too quiet, you just only spoke when spoken to out of fear of being too a annoying for the band.

“okay, let’s try again then?” jirou smiled and you nodded, placing your fingers on the strings and praying you didn’t mess up again. though it was your first time hearing the song and learning the chords, you were doing fairly well. you knew the chords and how to play them, it was just the aggressiveness in which you were supposed to play that you were screwing up on.

you sighed as you heard bakugou give the infamous drummer count off, and began to play. you weren’t using a pick, so you felt the tips of your thumb and index began to beat up as you strummed the strings quickly and found the tempo. you counted the amount of times you’d screw up by the end. the total being only seven. not bad for a four minute song.

“that wasn’t bad, y/n!” you heard kaminari compliment you.

“yeah, you did a lot better this time! it’s like you’ve already memorized everything and we’ve only been practicing for about three hours.” mina added.

you smiled at the two, “thanks, guys. really. i tried to relax more this time, so i only messed up... seven times. i think.”

“you counted?” jirou asked as she took a sip of her water.

“yeah, the last time we did it, i messed up nine times, but i found out what it was i was doing wrong and fixed it, now i only have seven more errors to correct.” you explained.

“well look at you go! at this rate, we’ll be practicing with the lyrics by this evening.” mina praised.

unlike the other four, bakugou didn’t say anything about how well you were doing. he couldn’t really bring himself to say anything to you. it wasn’t like he was embarrassed or anything; more like he was nervous to. the whole time you’d all been practicing he’d been watching your facial expressions change as you played he chords on your guitar. he could tell that you were feeling it, and that made him feel something.

—

“i’m in the business of misery, let’s take it from the top. she’s got a body like an hourglass, it’s ticking like a clock.” you mumbled the lyrics to the song as you shadow played the chords. you were liking the song so far. it wasn’t something you usually played and you liked that. you sat in the corner of the practice room as everyone took their break. either going to use the bathroom or just walking around the shop to stretch their legs. you decided on staying back and practicing the lyrics on your own before you did in front of everyone else. the thought of embarrassing yourself loomed in the back of your mind and you were absolutely terrified of it. you didn’t care if it was a rehearsal or not. embarrassing yourself was, simply, not an option.

“you sound nice.” and deeper voice spoke.

startled, you looked up from the notepad of lyrics in front of you and up to the door where, there stood bakugou; hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe.

“o-oh. thank you...” you muttered.

“i think i know where you keep messing up at on the chords.” he quipped.

“you do? but how? you play drums.”

he scoffed light heartedly, “just because i play drums doesn’t mean i’m oblivious to the workings and notes of other instruments.”

“oh...” you voiced, looking at the floor below you.

“here, let me see it.”

“see what?”

“your guitar, dumbass. i’m going to help you.”

you handed the boy your guitar and followed his figure with your eyes as he sat down next to you.

“after the third eight-count, your finger placement is off. i can hear it.” he stated as he began placing his finger on the strings.

“oh no... it was that obvious?” you whined burying your face in your hands. so much for embarrassment not being an option.

“stop whining, dumbass. it’s not that bad, but you can still tell that there’s something off.” he expressed, “now look, you have the right idea. but the wrong action. it’s not much, just move your finger up the neck a bit more.” bakugou strummed the note and looked back up at you, “like that. now you try.” he instructed handing you the guitar.

“okay...” copying the boys previous actions, you place your fingers on the strings. sliding your middle finger up the neck a bit, just as he’d instructed. you stunned the note and looked at him for approval.

“perf— good.” bakugou complimented hesitantly.

“mhm... thank you.” you have him a slight smile.

he nodded as he got up and headed towards the door, “if you want... i can start helping you with things like this privately. like... like we did just now. if you want, though. i don’t really care. just a suggestion.”

you nodded vigorously, “yes please. i like the way you teach.”

“o-oh... okay... well just give me your number and i can text you when we leave. or we can stay after.” bakugou suggested. the crimson eyed boy was slightly taken aback. he didn’t really expect you to say yes to him “tutoring” you. not like he was complaining though, he actually may or may not have enjoyed your company.

“can we stay after?” you asked.

he shrugged, “if that’s what you’d like.”

—

“bye guys! bakugou, remember to lock up.” kirishima waved as he and the rest of the group made their separate ways home. as for you and bakugou? you two had some after hours lessons to attend to.

the two of you made your ways back to the practice rooms.

upon entering, bakugou closed the door and turned to you, “do you want to start where we left off?”

you nodded, “yeah. after the third eight-count.”

bakugou sat down in the corner from earlier and patted the spot next to him, signaling for you to sit next to him. you complied and sat next to the blonde handing him your guitar.

“the part after the one we practiced earlier... the part where theres singing and then there’s just instrumental? can we work on that part?” you pleaded.

bakugou felt his cheeks heat up as he looked at you so find your eyes staring back into his. there was something about your eyes that made him feel warm. the feeling that your gaze gave him made him feel safe, “y- sure. okay it for me and we can start from there.”

—

it was about 8pm when the two of you decided that you’d practiced enough for the day. you helped him clean up around she shop before locking up and walking you home.

“you don’t have to, you know.” you expressed to him.

“it’s the right thing to do. i’m not just gonna let you walk home alone in the dark, dumbass.” he replied looking straight ahead.

it was quiet after that, until you walked past a convenience store, “i’m gonna go in to get something. i haven’t eaten since breakfast and i’m starving.” you let out a breathy laugh as you turned to walk in.

“eh?! dumbass, you need to eat properly. come on, i’ll but you some dinner. you don’t need to eat from a convenience store.” bakugou reprimanded. “follow me.” the two of you took a detour to a restaurant not too far away from where you guys were currently at.

“you don’t have to do this. i’m fine with getting something quick and cheap—“

“no,” he cut you off, “you need to eat properly. we won’t be long.”

—

onigiri in hand, the two of you continued your walk home in a comfortable silence as the two of you ate.

“thank you,” you said looking up at him.

bakugou glanced down at you before looking back up, “yeah, no problem.”

“we can stop here, my house is only around the corner. i’ll be fine on my own for now.”

bakugou nodded slightly, “yeah uh... sure. make sure to come to the shop tomorrow.”

you looked at the blonde in slight confusion, “huh? it’s closed tomorrow, is it not?”

“yeah,” he began, “but we still have to work through some of your screw ups. meet me there no later than noon.” he stated before walking away.

you silently agreed before turning away and walking the remainder of the way to your house alone.

—

“y/n, it’s been a bit more than a week since we’ve started these practices and you still don’t have that note down!” bakugou snapped. you two had been practcing with each other for a bit of a while now, and during that time you’ve gotten a bit more comfortable with each other.

“you idiot, i’m trying! you have to understand that i’m not used to singing notes on that octave.” you said rubbing your temples.

“okay, we’ll get used to it! you have two more days to get it right.” katsuki grumbled. “if you don’t, you’re going to embarrass yourself, dumbass.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, though, he was right. the note you were trying to hit wasn’t that hard. you could do it— you knew you could.

“you guys alright in here?”

you looked up to find mina at the door, peaking her head in from the outside.

“what the hell? i thought your alien ass went home.” bakugou stated.

“i could say the same about you guys. i went home and realized i forgot my charger, but you both should go home. it’s nearly ten pm. get some rest.” mina noted.

“ten pm?!” you exclaimed, quickly jumping up.

“holy shit!” bakugou chimed in grabbing his things.

the two of you exited the practice rooms and made your way to the front of the store. as you began to exit, the boy was quick to stop you, “h-hey—! don’t be so quick to leave. i still have to walk you home, y’know.”

you let go of the door and looked back at the male, “well come on then.”

the two of you waved goodbye to mina before taking the oath to your house. upon arriving, you felt bakugou’s hand ok your shoulder, “we won’t be able to practice tomorrow, we all have things to do, so make sure you work on that note, dumbass. we don’t need you screwing up.”

you nodded before walking to your door, “goodnight, bakugou.”

—

the day of the gig was finally here and though you told katsuki that’s you’d practice, you never did. that being said, you still hadn’t attempted to hit that high note. it was too late, though. you were now sitting backstage waiting for your guys’ turn.

“i’m nervous..” mina admitted as she paced back and forth.

“why?” jirou raised a brow in confusion, “we’ve practiced a lot these past few days. we’ve got this in the bag. if y/n worked out the thing with her high note, we shouldn’t be worried about anything. let’s just pretend this is another rehearsal.” the girl smiled.

the mentioning of your high high note mad your stomach churn. you hadn’t told them you didn’t practice in fear of coming off as irresponsible.

“yeah, we’ve been sounding really good! we got this, guys. besides, we’re up next so you’d probably want to try and calm down.” kaminari tried to somewhat comfort the pink skinned girl.

meanwhile, you were chewing your nails down to the cuticle. all of your practicing had led up to this moment and bakugou could tell you were nervous. he watched as your leg bounced up and down and you spit out the pieces of nail you’d bite off.

“hey, dumba— er... y/n,” bakugou prattled, walking over to and placing a hand on your shoulder, “calm down, yeah? you’re gonna do fine. i-... i believe in your dumbass... i-i guess.” he trailed off.

your soft eyes looked into his narrowed ones, your face softening at his comforting (?) words. you nodded, and as if on cue, the six of you were called onto stage.

—

this was it. this was what you’d practiced for. you looked out into the ‘crowd’; there were a lot of people for this just being a bar and lounge. maybe because it was a saturday? or, maybe you were just seeing blurry. whatever it was, you didn’t have time to worry about it as the sound of bakugou’s infamous drummer count off filled your ears.

you took a deep breath, one last chance to calm your nerves before you started to strum the notes on your guitar.

you counted off the final eighth of the instrumental and began to sing, “i’m in the business of misery, let’s take it from the top. she’s got a body like an hour glass it’s tickin like clock. it’s a matter of time before we all run out, when i thought he was mine, she grabbed him by the mouth,”

you have a jirou a look out the corner of your eye and was met with her approving, close-lipped smile. looking over to mina, you were meg with the same smile, only wider and toothier.

you took that as a sign and pulled yourself together, hands still sweaty from your nerves being a wreck, “i waited eight long months, she finally set him free. i told him i can’t lie, he was the only one for me. two weeks and we had caught on fire, she’s got it out for me, but i wear the biggest smile,”

so far, so good. you hadn’t had a voice crack (yet), and as the song went on you could feel your anxiety washing away. the song continued and it seemed the crowd was enjoying it quite a lot. you liked seeing the smiles on their faces, it made you happy. though, your smile quickly faded when you realized what part was coming. the part you took upon yourself to not practice for. your mind started to race; the note isn’t that hard to hit. you’ve hit notes like this before— that was a lie. but, hey, you’ve hit notes close to it before ! soon, there was no more time for you to think about it. it was now or never, and it wasn’t like you could just skip the part all together.

without a second thought, you scraped together the little courage you find in yourself and sang, “but god, does it feel so good. cause i’ve got ‘em where i want him now. and if you could, then you know you would, cause god, it just feels so... it just feels so good.”

your eyes widened as the final lyrics left your mouth. you did it— who are you kidding, of course you did. you knew you had it in you. and with that, the crowd cheered. you let go of the microphone stand that you didn’t even remember grabbing hold of, and smiled. in a matter of second you felt arms around you.

“you did amazing, y/n!” jirou congratulated.

“you sounded great!” mina added with a wide grin.

you smiled and hugged the two girls back, “thanks guys...”

—

the six of you eventaully made your ways back to backstage.

“did you guys see how everyone applauded?! they loved us out there!” kaminari grinned. the rest of you nodded, giving each other compliments on how well they played. you looked over to find bakugou looking at you. you smiled, walking over to sit next to him.

“you... you did good, dumbass,” he gave you a subtle smile, “if i’m being honest, i didn’t think you were gonna do it.”

you chuckled a bit before looking up at him, “would you believe me if i said i didn’t either?”

the blonde shook his head, “hell no. you let go of your bass and everything. you knew you were gonna hit it. there was too much confidence in your movements to say otherwise.”

“thank you.” you said after a few moments of silence between you two.

“yeah, whatever.”

“no, seriously,” you said putting a hand on his shoulder. he felt his cheeks heat up as he looked into your eyes. they had the same sincere look the always did, “you’re a great teacher. and i could tell you genuinely believed in me. that made it easier to preform.”

bakugou was silent for a second, “yeah. anytime..”

you engulfed the boy into a hug before you began towards the rest of the band.

“oh uh, y/n?”

you turned around, “hm?”

“you should consider joining the band... we could use you here. and you’re... cool to hand around. i-i guess, i uh... like having you around and you’re talented or whatever... so yeah.”

you smiled, “are you sure you just don’t want to keep me around a bit longer for your own sake?” you teased.

“wh-what?! hell no, dumbass. you’re delusional.” bakugou retorted.

“mhm, whatever. in any case, i’ll think about it, cutie.”

—

idk of i want to leave this open ended, or make a second part- lmk? :) anyways, hope you enjoyed !

#anime #writing #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #band au #mha bakugou #my hero fanfic #mha fanfiction #fanfic #mha #new writer boost

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kanene-yaaay · 3 years

Text

Tickle me, princey

Kanene’s note: This fic is basically: Virgil is a bratty Lee, Roman is a competitive Ler and none of them are going down without a fight xDD.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Virgil and Ler!Roman (Kind of. Because there is almost no tickles here, just teasing). Human AU.

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* This have about 2.500 words of Roman and Virgil just being teasy beans. ‘w’)b.

* PLEASE CHECK THIS AMAZING ART! IT’S INCREDIBLEE! <33

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! I didn’t proofread that one very well, so I will probably be correcting a few things later. Any advice is always very, very welcome!

* A versão em português brasileiro irá ser escrita, ainda. Eu espero! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Do something crazy today, take a good rest, be kind (especially with yourself) and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Roman cleaned his hands on his jeans before stretching his back and sighing in relief when a small ‘pop’ came from it. The pal from the nearby library was a cool person – not that he would ever allow the other to hear this, because, damn, people who called Roman cocky definitely haven’t met them yet – but equally precise in get on his nerves with as few words as possible, even though the florist didn’t care that much as his dramatics discourses tried to convince everyone he did.

Besides that, they was Patton’s friend and even more important, they made an accord with the Flower Shop’s owner and Roman was the one in charge to deliver their biweekly floral arrangement to the library’s decór. However, today Roman managed to win their discussion and therefore a couple of podcast episodes read by them (What? Their voice was quite nice!!).

Roman ignored the small ring of the door’s bell as he entered the Flower Shop, looking around to be sure there was no clients before taking his position behind the balcony, internally thanking how chill Patton was with his employees using phone during the shift as long there wasn’t no one near, especially as he unlocked his screen and a new notification popped in front of him.

Butterflies went immediately crazy on his stomach.

[Message from Panic! At Everywhere]

[P: Hey. So, are you still ok?]

Virgil kicked his blanket out of his bed, already feeling a tad of giddiness spread across his body, a small smirk finding its way to his face without him even realizing. Today was the day. Since when he and Roman talked on the last week about boundaries to be sure nothing had changed and decided Saturday as a good day for their session the one with purple hair couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander, picturing and re-picturing what would happen, even though Roman always insisted to never tell him his plans, wanting to keep everything as a surprise, which definitely didn’t help at all the excitement running on his veins.

Their session.

Their tickle session. It was only eleven in the morning and Virgil could already feel his skin tingle just by imagine Roman’s fingers grazing, dancing on it, carefully looking for all his weak spots both knew so well before coming with an entire new technique that would make the other (almost, barely, hardly) want to jump out of his skin so he could escape from the maddening tickly sensation.

He was going to love it.

Also, it didn’t help that he spent the previous night and its following morning consuming all his favorite tickle content, dying on the spot (and on the reblogs) and skyrocketing his lee mood to the mountains.

Nevertheless, he tried to play nonchalant as answered the other’s new message.

[Message from Dumb(o)]

[D: Yes.]

[P: Cool.]

[D: You?]

[P: Yep.]

[D: Glad to know, Blushy Bug. Try to not alarm all of our neighborhood with your squeals and giggles before I get there, okay? ~

D: And yeah, plu-e-ase, continue with your so delightful tags on your reblogs, okay, Tickle me Emo? I’m learning so much new information with that. If only I would have an opportunity to use all of them today…]

Virgil snorted, one hand trying to hide his face as he attempted with all his might to ignore the flames taking over his cheeks as the teases sank and the memories from the day he conquered this nickname emerged from the deeps of his mind. So, Princey was already so over his head with being the ler this time? Thinking Virgil would be hiding his face on the pillow, squeaking and tittering helpless? Well, he would have a big storm coming, then.

Virgil got up, his footsteps leading him to the clean desk in the room, moving some of the objects so carefully chosen in order to get the perfect picture. Every single makeup brush lined, gleaming under the lens of his camera, away enough so the viewer would be able to realize all their individualities but close enough to create an impact.

Two can play this game.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent an image]

Roman clicked on it, eyes going immediately wide as he quickly slammed the cellphone’s screen on his red apron, his gaze running from a place to another to be sure no one was near or had seen the conversation or noticed the way his smile went from an ear to another.

[P: Nah. I’m too occupied choosing the perfect tools for today… I mean, there are just so many options, ya know? I especially prefer the smallest ones, their bristles softly running on my ribs, tracing their way across my tummy to get to the other side… yeah. That is the good stuff. Or maybe we could be experimenting the biggest ones today, letting them tease that spot right under my chin, the softness engulfing all the nerves… ]

Roman took a deep breath, realizing the other still typing.

[P: Anyway, don’t make a big deal of this, ‘kay? I know your imagination can be very fertile but try to not alert Patton with all your blush and twitching. You know he is a curious guy and will want to know why you’re so smiley. ;)]

“Pai amado, (Dear God) he is going to kill me.” Roman crossed his arms, using all his will to no start wiggling them to nothing, a sudden urge to sing some nursery rhymes making him begin to humming quietly as attempted to gather enough concentration to type a proper, cool reply.

[D: Is that so? So, the big, badass Virgil Storm is excited to get all his tickly-tickle-tickles today? Is he excited to become a so helpless, so adorable mess of giggles and squeaks? To be teased and tickled until he can do nothing but give me those lovely snorts and wiggly-wiggles? ~

Awww. So cute. ~]

[P: Yeah, I am. So what? Wanna do something about that, Sir Sing a Lot?

Ops, I forgot you’re at work rn. Tsc. Such a pity. Well, guess I will have to kill some time by looking at your precious collection of feathers, see if I find something interesting there.]

[D: You just wait for when I get home.]

[P: :)]

Virgil laid his phone at his side, hiding his face on the mattress, kicking just like he was some teenager in love from those generic movies. The squeals bubbled out from his lips, smiles blooming. He knew he probably was just digging his own grave, but, ha, as if he would fall without a fight. Plus, imagining Roman trying at every cost to keep a straight expression while reading his texts and then struggling to continue his work just as if nothing had happened, with that cute, excited smile planted on his face made a proud wave of power – and joy - hit him and that was a bonus which was worth it.

Then his phone vibrated, indicating a new notification and a new flood of shivers as he unlocked his screen, freezing for a couple of heartbeats with the length of the message.

[D: A poem for my dear Knightmare. ~

Once upon a time

There was a wiggley-wiggly lee

That just a few pokes

Made him giggle with glee

Some scribbles here

Some scratches there

You can tickle-tickle

He is ticklish everywhere!

What, you don’t believe me?

‘That much cute he can’t be!’

Well, then allow me to demonstrate

All the beautiful sounds he can create!

Give a few prodding on his ribs

And a quick digging on his hips

Some brushes on his toesies and feet

And don’t forget about these helpless pits!

(And hey, psst, if you squeeze his sides

The cutie, squeaky, wiggly lee,

Will be squealing in a happy delight)

This neck is also asking for tickly-kisses

He always denies, always desire

Add to that some teasy whispers

And watch his cheeks be set on fire!

Once upon a time

There was a bratty, smug lee

That just a few tickle teases

Can make him a blushy mess

Just like now, you see!]

[…]

“Have a nice day. Thank you for coming!”

Roman waved to the client who got out from the Flower Shop, taming the smugness which threatened to take over his features as he realized that even though an hour had passed, no answer to his last text had arrived yet. He was perfectly aware of how weak Virgil was for any sort of rhymed tease and a whole poem – not his best, he had to admit – dedicated to him? He could almost see the other shrieking, hiding his red face on the pillow, lost in a mess of quiet peals of laughter and curses. His smile got even bigger, swelled in pride. And, well, if he couldn’t help it but push his luck a few inches further, his fingers already halfway to typing a small, itsy bitsy, new tease to his favorite emo lee, how could someone really blame him?

[D: Oh, sorry. Did I make the scary Virgil too much flustered to talk? Awww, I will miss your sassy remarks deeply and sing a ballad in your honor at the funeral. ~]

He snorted at the amount of time the symbol of ‘typing’ appeared and disappeared on the conversation, using the ten minutes he took to be answered to organize a few sales signs on the glass in front of the store, gaining a dance on his step as the one-worded sentence shone on his phone.

[P: Bitch.]

[D: I have no idea of what you’re talking about. Is that something I said? I feel wounded.]

But a new thing popped up.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent a video]

[P: :)]

It seemed like hours passed, even if he knew the downloading probably didn’t really take more than a few pieces of minute for him to hit the play.

The focus of the camera took a few seconds to adjust, the image trembling and shaking before going still, the crystal clear form of a small light brown, slightly spiked feather twirling between Virgil’s index and thumb locking his eyes on the screen. A quick, quiet sigh could be heard before the tickle tool descended to the palm extended on a desk, stopping by Virgil’s pulse.

The bristles grazed the skin there as the feather began to move on slow strokes, going from the left to the right, left and right, left and right… calmly making its way up, changing to small swirls as it contorted the form of the hand, giving to each finger a light tracing before concentrating on the palm, drawing a spiral which approximated inch by inch to the center. If Roman wasn’t so quiet, - even holding his breath, - maybe he wouldn’t be able to listen the incredibly low, contained huffs of laughter on the background, a soft snort escaping and making both hands tremble as the bristles hit the center of his hand, dancing around the spot for a bit.

When it stopped, the tool was placed on the desk and then the camera started to move, stopping on Roman’s so very well-known golden with silver details box. Its lid laid next to it, letting its entire content to be proudly shown. The explosion of colors from the most diverse large, small, pointy, fluffy feathers took over the frame, however, a tiny piece of paper placed on the exact center of them was what captured his attention. The lens zoomed and focused, making him able to read the quick message written there.

“:)”

And then the screen went black. The video was over.

Roman could feel his face being almost split in half by his grin, his fingers hitting the table top in complete frenzy since they hadn’t to hold the device anymore, curling and uncurling as the one who couldn’t just stay still started to bounce his right leg, ignoring the redness he felt crippling down his neck.

“Roman?”

He fully shrieked. Both him and Patton startled and jumped a few centimeters in the air with the sudden sound. The florist slapping his own hand on his mouth, trying with all his inner strength to stop the bubbly giggles which flooded non stop from his lips

“Sorry for the scare, kiddo,” the shine on his eyes free of any guilt as Patton bit his own knuckles proved the contrary, especially when the rest of an awed squeal escaped from his lips, only making the other to giggle harder, eyes closed, blush deepening and nose scrunched. “Aww, your giggles are so cute!”

“Shuhuhush!!” The Flower Shop owner just smiled fondly, withholding his comments and patiently waiting for the other to recompose himself. When Roman looked at least a tad calmer he decided to make his decision to talk to him clear.

“I’m glad you’re in a good mood, Ro! I just wanted to remember today’s shift is already over. I need a bit of time to organize everything before the painter comes so we can discuss the new design of the Flower Shop. Thank you so much for the ideas, by the way! I can’t wait for you all to see the result! It will be so pretty!!” Roman’s wide eyes were enough of an explanation of why he wasn’t ready to go yet, probably having forgotten about their last month conversation. Although, the surprised look was away in an instant, a shine taking over his glare before he softened, locking his eyes with Patton.

“Of course, it will be, Patty-cake! With my magnificent ideas and your good taste, I really don’t think any other result besides wonderful and perfection will be possible!” He squeezed Patton’s cheeks and his friend stuck out his tongue at him, winning a quick poke on his ribs that made him squirms and yelp, quickly tittering and waving the other with his hands.

“Now shoo-shoo, go enjoy your afternoon!”

A devious smirk gleamed on Roman’s expression for a second. “You can count on it, Padre.” But then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Thank you, my mighty hero in a shiny armor! May the universe let our destiny align again in the future.”

“See ya, kiddo!” He replied, his tune also full of joy, watching the one with red hair going away, a happy bounce on his steps.

[…]

Virgil picked the phone in the first ring. “Roman, something happened?”

“Nope,” the purple lover sighed in relief, all the tension getting out of his body and being replaced by confusion, “nothing happened except that a handsome, incredible someone got out from his work earlier than expected and might be heading his home by now.”

That made Virgil shot up, biting his lower lip, butterflies freaking out. “No.” It was his whisper.

“Oh, yes. ~” Roman practically purred on the speaker. “any last words, my dear, defenseless Giggly Storm?”

Virgil just giggled and Roman had almost forgotten how that sound only was enough to spread an explosion of a warm, good feeling on his chest. “Aw, and here I was thinking I would have at least some challenge today. ~” He continued to tease.

Silence.

“Go check your messages, Princeypie.”

And then he hung up. Roman fondly rolled his eyes, running to check the new notification on their conversation.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent a photo]

It was Virgil, sitting on his bed criss crossed, one elbow resting on his thigh as he took the picture on the body mirror on the other side of the room, a strong blush very visible on his face half hidden by the device, wearing a short and Roman’s red crop top. A new message popped right under the photo.

[P: Get your butt here and tickle me, Sir Sing a Lot.’]

This emo was going to be the death of him.

[D: Aww, I don’t even get a smile?]

[P: You gotta work for those, Princey.]

Virgil definitely did not jump nor yelp as he heard the low, dangerous tune of an “evil” laughter echoes in the house coming from the living room, the sound of the front door being closed making his flight instincts kick in.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Virgil was already halfway to the most far away room where he could escape, trying to keep his reputation as he heard another set of footsteps quickly getting ground and following right behind him. Laughter and squeaks mixed in the air.

“Because I will.” Roman answered.

#Very teasy #Teases #Lee!Virgil #Ler!Roman #Virgil is a brat and Roman is one as well #Ticklish!Virgil #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's Fanfic #Kanene's Art #Kanene's fic #Brief self tickles #Feathers #blushy bois #Writing this kind of fic is very fun and sdfghertcvgbhn kind of silly as well #Virgil: Tickle me// Roman: Okay// Virgil: *NYOOOM*#I still don't know how to tag this dfghjsdfghdcf #I feel like my writing is a bit weird nowdays but yeah I'm still proud of this!

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just-a-quirkless-loser · 4 years

Text

Maybe We’re Not Meant To Be

Alpha Izuku x Omega Reader

Warning: Sexual Content Below

Word Count: 3.9K

Two years of dating Izuku was no easy task. As sweet as the man is, he often blundered when it came to the love life (or the lack thereof) the two of you shared. No one questions his devotion to you. You’re cold? Midoriya will give you the shirt off his back. You’re hungry? Midoriya runs to the nearest store to grab you something (he doesn't care if it’s miles away). Two years of dating the most considerate person in the world yet, you selfishly yearned for more.

A mating mark; a silent reminder to onlookers that you were taken by one of the most eligible alphas in Japan. You wanted your skin to be marred by his long fangs and you wanted to leave your own mark on him. But after two years of waiting, it felt as though maybe he didn’t want to mark you.

‘Maybe we’re not meant to be.’

At first, you didn’t mind that Midoriya wasn't quick to ask to bound you; it showed that he cared about you rather than force himself on you for the rest of your life. It was nice to have him court you but, you’re getting older. You never wanted to admit that biology was correct but, you felt yourself slowly facing the realities.

It’s easy to push the want away, hiding it deep in your mind to only ponder over every once in a while. But, every once in a while becomes every day. It makes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you.

You watch as all of your friends start to show off their marks, they start to get married, one by one having pups. And, you’re there for all of it. Silently cheering everyone else on from the sideline but, awaiting your turn to race.

You’re quietly bitter. All you can think about is having mini versions of Midoriya and yourself running around. What would they look like? What would they smell like? Would they want to be heroes? Your desire to have a physical manifestation of your love to care for and nurture grew. It seems like the closest you’ll ever get to that dream is when you're around other people’s pups.

“Wow, Y/N! How did you get her to be that quiet?” Uraraka asks you with an amazed expression. She watched you cuddle her close to your chest, rocking her off to sleep after her latest tantrum. “You're such a natural.”

“Thank you. I've always loved kids,” you're mesmerised by the rise and fall of the pups chest as she breathes. It’s nice having something so small depend on you.

“You’d make a great mom,” she doesn’t miss how you tense and, for the fleetest of moments, a scent of resentment seeps from your pores. Why should you have to sit and take care of someone else’s baby when you want one? “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”

“No, no, you’re fine. I was just thinking,” you put the sleeping pup down to its duvet. “I want one. I want what you have so bad it hurts.”

“Why don’t you talk to Deku? I’m sure he’d love to have a baby with you,” she smiles to push your hurt away but, it only makes you grimace eternally.

“For us to talk, he’d have to be home for more than thirty minutes before he crashes out in bed,” that ends the conversation. You knew that dating a pro hero with ambitions like Izuku’s would be no walk in the park however, you didn't think it would be this hard.

You know he didn’t mean to but, Midoriya has inadvertently neglected you. First, it was forgetting date night due to the need to pursue a link to a villian. Then, it was forgetting your birthday to finish some paperwork. It seemed like something always popped up that Midoriya had to follow but, you couldn’t hold a grudge; he’s always been the type to help.

‘You knew what you were getting into when you chose to date him,’ you blamed yourself. You can't just expect him to change (and you grew bitter for that as well).

“Izuku,” you started across from him on the floor. He looked up at you with those dark green hues, giving you his full attention. “Izuku, why haven’t you marked me yet?”

“Y-Y/N, ahh you caught me off guard. I mean, do you want me to mark you?” he always does this; reverse the question when he doesn’t know the right answer.

“Izuku, I asked you a question,” you put your chopsticks down.

“Well, I don’t think I should bind myself to you,” cue the dramatic scent drop. “N-No it’s not you, it’s me. Okay, that sounds cliché but I just, I don't want to keep you from finding someone better.”

‘THERE ISN’T ANYONE BETTER THAN YOU,’ the words were stuck in your mouth. The conversation should have ended there but you were hurt.

“Y/N, please, say something. Are you mad?”

‘Yes.’ “No.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t take-”

“I’m fantastic. Just not as hungry as I thought I was. But, I’m glad you told me. Now, how was your day?” It hurts but your grin through it. The conversation shouldn’t end there but, you have no desire to see what other bullshit can leave the alpha’s mouth.

You know he doesn’t mean it in this way but, doesn’t that mean that Midoriya doesn’t see you as a life partner? Wouldn’t it be safe to say that he’d leave you if he found someone better? Weren’t you just wasting your time?

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can talk about it if you want,” he pauses to yawn. “Maybe, tomorrow though. It was such a long day. All Might was-“ ahh yes, All Might. You’re sure you know more about him than you do about Midoriya’s mother.

You feel unwanted, used, and taken advantage of. You do everything for him: cook, clean, support, help him with leads that stump him, drag him to bed, bandage him up. Yet, your efforts have only gotten you in a position where you’re positive Midoriya only keeps you around for entertainment. It’s a bad feeling.

But, you can’t bring yourself to pack your belongings and leave. Your inner Omega is intertwined with his, even without the mating mark. She wants to be with him till the very end; till either one of you dies and the other soon follows into the afterlife.

But, the feelings just keep growing. They’re in the back of your mind as you kiss Izuku, they’re in the corner of your bedroom as you cuddle with him, they’re blaring in the car as you falsely laugh. So, you suppose it’s half your fault that things have gotten to the point that they currently are.

Today, you woke up in a particularly good mood. Midoriya had made your favorite breakfast and kissed you roughly before he left the house.

“I have a feeling something’s going to happen today; make sure to call me when you get to work and when you get home,” his lips pressed down on you almost urgently, making your insides quiver. “And, make sure you check your surroundings.”

“I will Izuku. I’ll see you later,” and he went out to save the world. You got dressed in some leggings and a blouse and headed off to your café. While it wasn’t the flashiest job for a person with a powerful quirk like yours, you loved watching the little pups pick out what they wanted. Occasionally, you could even pick them up.

“Hai, Y/N. I have some fresh scones waiting to be put out,” one of your workers greeted you. You h/c colored hair was pulled into a messy game, a few tendril framing your face. There was a low gust of air from the door behind you. Another mother with her pup.

You got to work helping wherever you could, throwing powder sugar at your workers whenever they were being too impatient; you have a knack for doing things slowly till you get them perfect.

“As to be expected of such an analytical quirk,” one of your best employees, Kagey, tells you.

“You’re just mad because I won’t allow you to rush my beautiful cakes,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“No, I’m mad because you’ve made me wait for ten minutes just so you could place those fucking cakes. And they’re placed crooked. I could’ve been over there serving that hottie. Look at himmmm,” Kagey shakes your shoulders while fawning over some unsuspecting soul.

“Ummm, you forget I have Izuku,” you raise one of your eyebrows.

“There’s no crime in looking. It’s not like you’ve got a mark,” you crack your neck. “Sorry, I forget that’s a sore subject for you. “

“It’s fine. And, who’s the poor victim you’re staring at this time,” he points to a man you’re well acquainted with: Monoma Neito.

His blonde hair is still light but he’s grown it to be a little above his shoulders. Those beady eyes that used to be rimming with anger and discontent are finally happy and playful. He’s filled out, body-wise, and you can tell he’s bulging with muscle.

‘Izuku’s better.’

“Damn, that glow hit him like a truck,” Kagey pushes your shoulders forward. “Okay, bitch, stop being pushy.”

“Ofcourse, you know a beefcake like that. Introduce me to him! I’d love to get my tongue on him,” you shudder with disgust at that mental image. “Don’t look like that. My men always leave me satisfied.”

“I didn’t know that was how people describe STI’s nowadays. I really am a Boomer now,” he smack you upside the head. “Okay, okay, I’m going. Just stop hitting me.”

You wander over to Monoma, trying to decide what’s the best way to approach him. You decide on being direct.

“Monoma,” he turns and his face lights up with recognition. “Hai, it’s been so long. Welcome to my shop”

“Y/N!? You own this place? I would’ve thought you’d want to be a hero. It’s good to see you,” he grabs your hand in his. His hands are warm, no doubt he’s probably feeling the strength of your quirk. He’s always been the handsy type. “You’re single? What happened to Izuku?”

“We’re still together. We’re just taking things slow,” you shrugged off his gaze. “Plenty of people do it.”

“So, no mark and no ring. You’re basically single,” you ruffle up and his tone. You had forgotten he can be as blunt as yourself, one of the main reasons you had been good friends.

“You could say that if that’s what you believe. But, this isn’t about me. My friend over there, Kagey,” you point your thumb over at the fool. “He wanted to know if you’d like to go on a date.”

“You and I both know I’m straight. But, I appreciate the offer,” Monoma raises his voice so Kagey can hear. You can hear muffled cursing about straight men behind you following his statement. “But, I’d love to take you out sometime this week.”

“I have Izuku.”

“Do you really? You know alphas are preconditioned to mark what they feel belongs to them. What does that say about you?” He knows exactly how to manipulate your mind.

“...when are you free?”

***

You were shaking as you applied your makeup. Today was the day that you were going to go on a small date with Monoma. Nothing too serious; just an outing with a friend that just so happens to be an alpha.

Why were you shaking? Well, you hadn’t told Izuku about your plans. He normally gets home later in the night and you had planned on getting back from your date earlier than him. But, what if he found out? Well, it shouldn't matter, right?

He did tell you that you could find someone else (although, now as the moment was nearing, you started to doubt how serious he was when he told you). So, it shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like you were planning on running away with this alpha. But, would Izuku understand that?

‘He’s not even going to find out. No point in worrying about it,’ you hissed as you accidentally poked your eye with your makeup brush.

The soft material of the skirt stretched across your thighs as you paced through the halls. Were you really going to do this?

“Y/N, I’m home baby. I picked up some pizza for us,” you froze. Out of all the times for Izuku to come home early, he chose the day when you were going to converse with another alpha. You thought about trying to run back to the bedroom but he was already halfway to the kitchen and he would most likely hear you.

“Ohhhh that’s great. Really great,” you inched towards the couch to try to cover yourself in the pillows.

“Yeah, why are you covered in the pillows? Are you building a new nest here? Want me to go get my shirts?” You immediately felt guilty all over again. Here you were about to betray him and he’s being selfless.

“NOOO, no, just, stay right there,” you sink in further as you hoped he’d leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, Izuku doesn’t leave anything alone if he thinks something is wrong.

“What’s wrong, omega?” He gets closer and sniffs the air. “Are you wearing perfume?”

“Yeahhhh, wanted to try something new,” you avoid eye contact.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“...”

“Omega, look at me please.”

“Izuku, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Look at me.”

You look at him with small tears in the corners of your eyes.

“Awww, omega. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He starts to emit a soothing smell for you.

“Izuku, I have a-“ the doorbell interrupts you. You know it’s Monoma. You know you can’t get up to get the door. You know that you are fucked.

“I’ll get it. But, when they leave, we are talking about what’s wrong,” you gulp. You hear Midoriya open the door.

“Midoriya, it’s nice to see you. Is Y/N ready?” There’s the nail in the coffin.

“What do you mean?

“We have a date tonight.”

“No you fucking don’t.”

“Um, we do. I asked her out the other day at her café,” you hear silence till you hear the unmistakable sound of Izuku’s growl. The air becomes stiffling as his pheromones threaten to choke you to death. You cower in the pillows, listening to Izuku grab Monoma and pull him into the room. No matter how much he told you he’d be fine with you finding another alpha, you should’ve known your actions would drive him feral.

“Why the fuck is he here?” Izuku snarled in your face. You were silently sobbing, ashamed of what your actions had caused. “FUCKING ANSWER ME, OMEGA.”

“Y-you’re the one that said you weren’t mating me in case I found someone better,” you pushed the pillow into his face as you stood to defend yourself. “Why are you so fucking mad? You drove me to this.”

“Don’t try to fucking blame me. You should have told me. So, you really want him?” You nodded your head to spite him. “No, you don’t. You just want to piss me off. Well, if that’s the objection, you accomplished your goal. Now, strip.”

“What?” The false confidence was wearing off.

“You wanted to make me mad and you did. You want a mating mark? I’ll give you one. Now, strip for your punishment,” you shakily point to Monoma that was wide-eyed in Izuku’s grip. “Yes, in front of him. He needs to see you belong to me since he’s clearly a visual learner.”

You slowly reach behind and unzip your skirt. You push the fabric down your legs to bunch at you ankles, step out of them, and shakily pull at the hem of your shirt. You lock eyes with Monoma as you pull it above your head. The air feels cold against your soft skin. You stand there in your bra and panties, awaiting Izuku’s next command.

“I said strip. Keep going,” you gulp.

“I should leave,” Izuku slams Monoma into a chair. He grips his shoulder so hard you can hear a small crack.

“Nahhhh, stay. I’m sure you knew she belonged to me but, this is a good reminder,” Izuku turns back to watch your breasts spill from your bra. Your nipples pebble from the attention you’re getting. You slip your panties down your legs, reaching for a pillow to cover yourself.

“No, show him what belongs to me. Turn around and bend over,” you slowly turn, placing your hands on the sofa behind you. You clench your legs together. You bend at the waist, hearing two sharp intakes of breath.

You stand there like an exhibit, slick pooling in between your legs. You’re sure they can see your nether lips glistening with arousal as well as the wall, your breasts hanging from the position.

“Look at how wet she is for me, Monoma. I bet you wish she was like that for you,” Izuku’s breath fans across your ass. His hands gently cups your waist, tugging you backwards so he can muzzle your ass crack. “Such a beautiful body. All mine.”

“IZUKU,” you scream out as he suddenly slaps your ass. It makes more slick fall between your legs but, it still stings as a punishment. “I’ll be good omega.”

“I know baby. You’re always such a good girl. You just need to be corrected. I’ve been giving you a little too much free reign. Wanted to be sensitive alpha. Wanted to give you time. No more of that,” you shivered at the promise. “Gonna give you exactly what you need.”

A tirade of smacks rain down on your behind, lighting up your backside. You yelp and try to pull away but are restrained by Izuku’s strong arms. He’s the one supporting your weight as you crash down against the couch, the front half of your body slumped down.

“Awww, is Omega tired? But, we’re just getting started,” from behind you, you can hear Monoma’a breathing get heavier. “Let’s give fuckface a good show baby.”

You’re about to question what he means when Izuku stands up, walks over, and rips the tie from Monoma’s neck. He walks back over to you, tying your arms together.

“I’m in control,” he says. You quiver when you hear Izuku’s knees hit the floor behind you. Only moments later his face is buried in your heat, lapping like a dog. It sounds so lewd to hear him slurp at your juices.

He starts off slowly kissing the backs of your thighs, gripping you by your ass cheeks as he pulls your globes apart. You feel exposed when he takes an exaggerated sniff. “I’ve missed this. Need to start being more attentive to my baby.”

He licks up and down your slit, lightly nibbling on your clit as he circles it, pulling it between his lips to give it a harsh suck. Your hole clenches around nothing as you moan and try to cant your hips into his face. Your efforts are rewarded with a warning smack.

“Just enjoy my tongue,” he positions you to be on your knees as he continues to eat you out. He first slips in one finger to the knuckle, reveling in the debauched groan that leaves your beautiful lips. Your lips are parted as drool rubs down the left side of your face. Your eyes go crossed eyed from Izuku slipping in another finger and curling them upwards, those two fingers touching that spongy texture inside of you. The perfect Ahegao face. A vision of wrecked.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers,” he continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm, latching back onto your clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, wanting to run with nowhere to go. You’ve forgotten Monoma as you whimper.

“Zuku’ too much. Please,” you’re shaking as you bite into the sofa to mute your screams.

“Aht aht aht, I wanna hear you fucking moan for me. Let him know who’s making you feel this good,” he allows his lone hand to stroke your stomach, knowing that was one of your sweet spots. You whine loudly as you cum once again, mascara running.

“Nooo more. Izuku. Please. Alpha,” you’re stuck there. Forced to take all the pleasure he gives you.

“I think you can give me more baby,” he removes himself from you as he unbuttoned his jeans. “Monoma, you wanna know something funny.”

“What?”

“I bet you thought you’d be the one to fuck her pretty pussy tonight,” Izuku laughs with no amusement behind the sound. “Never thought you’d be forced to watch.”

Izuku pushes his hard cock between your legs, smearing your juices across his shaft. He grabs his cock as he toys with your entrance, pushing the tip of his cock between your lips and groaning at the sight. Your pussy grips the tips in a vice, trying to suck him in further.

“Alpha, stop teasing me. Please. More. Give it to me.”

“I thought you couldn’t take anymore,” he teases.

“Pleaseeeee ohiuuhhh yess,” you throw your head back when you feel him push all the way in in one motion. Your toes curl as his cock strains against your walls, forcing you to take it all. He expertly pulls back and gives an experimental thrust.

“Look at that pussy, Monoma. Isn’t it nice? Too bad you’ll never get to feel my pussy,” he sets a bruising pace, never giving you a chance to recover. You hear your own whines mixed in with his pelvis slapping against your ass, your body rocking forward from the force of his body.

He wraps his hand around your neck, lifting your body so he can make you meet his thrusts. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum around his cock but, you’re okay with being used like a cocksleeve.

“I’m gonna fuck my babies into your tight pussy. Gonna breed you,” you mewl. “Is that what you wanted? Pups?”

You nod as you cry, partly from the overstimulation but also from the emotional state you’ve been reduced to.

“I’ll give you as many pups as you want. Looks like I’ll have to fuck you out of your mind more to get you to talk to me,” he growls beside your side and he leans over you, crushing you beneath him as he pushes your body to scrunch beneath him, pounding you like he hated you.

“Are you gonna cum again,” you nod due to your raw throat. You’re clenching and the pleasure starts to build but, this time, it feels different. Your vision goes out as you spasm, stars coming across your eyes as you squirt all over his cock, making a mess on the cock bellow you. Your tightness pushes Izuku into his orgasm.

“Cum for me, Omega. Cum for your alpha,” you whine as you spasm but nothing comes out. He’s pushed you into a dry orgasm. You feel his hot spurts of cum enter your pussy, coating everywhere inside of you. His teeth sink into your neck, making you his forever.

“Izuku,” you whine.

“Feels good, omega?” You nod. He slowly pulls out from behind you, tapping your ass like a horse.

“Get the fuck out,” Monoma doesn’t have to be told twice as he runs out. Izuku grabs a few baby wipes from the kitchen and comes back to wipe your pussy.

“You’re mine. Never forget that.”

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

I hope you all enjoyed this. I was asked to write this a longgggg time ago and I’m so sorry for it taking so much time to complete. I rewrote this a total of three times and I’m finally happy with the end result.

Tag List: @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

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lets-get-kraken-boys · 4 years

Text

FatGum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) X Chubby! Confectioner/Baker! Reader: Sweets and Treats~

(Description: Woo, I’m so excited for my first story on this account! This inspiration came to me after thinking about our one and only, favorite chubby pro hero and me wanting to see some puppy love for you two. Also, the title says Confectioner/Baker, I want to clarify that Reader isn’t truly a baker but I feel like “Confectioner” wouldn’t reach as large of a crowd as “Baker” would, not a big deal but just FYI. I hope my first fic is enjoyed by those who choose to read, thank you for the support.)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(H/C) - Hair Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(F/C) - Favorite Color

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Female (She/Her)

Style of Story: Oneshot // Entirely fluff, a pinning love on both ends, and a happy end to boot! There is one little heartbreak moment, but it’s over in a second.

Word Count: 4.5K Words

WARNING(s): None, unless you see adorable, tooth-rotting fluff as a crime!

“Morning, Tammy! Lovely day, isn’t it?” you greeted your employee with a bright smile as she stumbled through the door into your bakery.

She huffed, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Sure, but I’ve hardly been up long enough to notice it. How are you always so peppy this early?” She pointed to the mechanical clock ticking from the left wall that read ‘4:04 AM’. You glanced outside and saw hardly anyone walking through the streets, except the occasional drunkard or lonely soul.

You bashfully shrugged your shoulders, “Well, after years of suffering waking up at three in the morning, you kinda get used to the torment! But, hey, so happy we got the shop far away from the center of the city, you can actually see the sunrise from here!” you tried to help her look on the bright side as you handed her one a cup of one of your homemade coffee brews. She took a sip of the drink and let out a content sigh through her nose, a small, but thankful smile on her face.

“You know, for being a confectioner, you make some pretty solid coffee. What is that?” her eyebrows furrowed as she asked, taking another swig to figure out the secret intense flavor.

You giggled, “That’s probably the nutmeg I added. Is it good?”

“More like fantastic, (Y/N). Trying out new recipes again?” she asked over her shoulder, hanging up her light jacket that protected her from the early morning breeze while grabbing her apron. Though, it being July in Japan, she probably wouldn’t need it again for a while.

“Yeah, I think this one will really please the early risers. It gives a special sort of kick to the taste, don’t you think?” you asked while gently sliding open the glass case that held all of the beautifully decorated pastries, grabbing a pair of tongs and a small floral ceramic plate, carefully placing a fresh Apple Strudel onto the plate, and setting it down on the counter.

“Totally. Hey, can I have a--,” Tammy stopped mid-sentence as she turned around to see the delectable treat already waiting for her.

“Your breakfast awaits, m’lady~,” you slurred out in a fake British accent with a cheesy smirk and a dramatic bow.

She scoffed, “You dork. Am I really that predictable?” she asked, scarfing down the pastry in a matter of seconds as she leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” you joked as she playfully shoved your plush side.

“You know,” she continued, looking down at the gooey food, “It’s a shame you aren’t more popular with the people. You have a great location, an amazing personality and work staff, if I do say so myself, and don’t even get me started on the incredible stuff you make,” she praised.

“Oh, stop it, Tammy. You’re gonna make me blush,” you flushed from her sincere words, “Besides, I’ve only been open for two weeks, it’s going to be slow for awhile. It’ll ramp up eventually.”

“Yeah, I guess, but you can’t deny that your baked goods are better than most of the others in the country! One day, when people get their heads out of their asses, these little gifts of magic are going to make you RICH!” she threw her lanky airs up into the air and around your shoulders. She spun your smaller frame in a circle while the two of you laughed.

“Ha! Yeah yeah, I know! Now, stop your messing around and come help me fill the rest of these Cream Horns.” you concluded while you pat her taller shoulder. She groaned at the request but gave you a tiny nod. Tammy turned around while tying her short, brown hair into a messy bun, readying herself for the busy day ahead. You smiled while she retreated to the kitchen but before you went to follow her you decided to look out the window again.

Shuffling your legs over to the windows, you got a clear view of the rising sun and all its glory, the hints of yellow, orange, pink, red, and even blue from the night's previous dark veil still clung onto the brightening sky. Somehow you had this weird feeling that today something life changing was going to happen. You didn’t know if you should be excited or worried, but you decided to push those thoughts aside and continue on to the back of the shop where you could already hear the clutter and clang of falling pans, no doubt Tammy’s handy work.

Oh, if you only knew how right your hunch was…

~ Timeskip to a little later in the day and a P.O.V change to FatGum ~

“How much longer do I have for patrol?” I asked myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. The time read ‘9:12 AM’ and I huffed, still a couple more hours to go. Putting the device back in my pocket with a grimace but quickly faked a smile as I continued down the bustling street. The active community, excited civilians, and eager children usually never fails to put a smile on my face, but today everything just felt like a drag. I was sluggish, unfocused, and I couldn’t understand why. I shook my head, get your head in the game, Taishiro. You don’t have time to let your mind wander on duty.

After what seemed like hours, but was more than likely only 15 minutes, I felt my stomach let out a rumbling growl which made me groan. I stopped walking on the sidewalk and took a second to consider the situation, wandering the city for a couple of hours with nothing too exciting to do really works up an appetite, and I do need to keep up my strength. I’m a hero after all, and denying myself is like ignoring my civic duty to protecting the people! At this point, I’ll take any excuse to get out of this pointless shambling. But the REAL question is, what to get? I glanced around the street and noticed a few shops further down the block that looked to be food related. I smirked, perfect.

I wove through the few people occupying the area, past a few excited teenagers who asked for autographs, and eventually made it to the shops. Looking around I saw some insurance shops, an enticing Pad Thai sit down, and few others, but the one that caught my eye was a cutesy, (F/C)-painted bakery named, “Queen of Tarts”. Chuckling at the interesting name choice, I looked inside the establishment through the plexiglass windows.

The inside carried a light, fluffy atmosphere, pastel colored walls combining with the checkered tile floor caused a small smile out of me. A few small tables with delicate iron chairs here and there, but the real prize were the copious amounts of sweets that were displayed in the glass cases. Each were different colors, sizes, but they all looked delicious. Feeling my stomach grumble, I grabbed the door handle, flung it open, and walked into the scrumptious smelling shop. After walking in, the tiny jingle of bells alerting the workers of my presence, I finally saw the most stunning sweet of all.

“Hi, welcome to the Queen of Tarts, how may I help you today?” the gorgeous woman at the counter asked but it didn’t register in my brain because I was already lost in thought. Her adorable (H/C) hair framed her face to show her soft, chubby cheeks, her eyes glistened in the sunlight, and her smile, oh, it completely lit the room with its radiance. Curves in all the right places, I felt my cheeks heat up as I let out a nervous laugh, cursing my inner self for not holding it together. Seriously, I can face the nastiest of villains but throw one pretty lady in front of me and I fall apart? Fantastic. Realizing I wasn’t answering, I quickly stepped forward and cleared my throat.

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” ‘Wow, so smooth, Taishiro,’ I criticized in my head, “I...haven’t seen this store here before, you new?” I offered a smile, which she returned tenfold, making me even more flustered.

“Yes, actually! I set up shop here only a few weeks ago, finally settling in with the hustle and bustle of city life.” she finished, leaning in closer against the marble counter with her arms crossed.

“City life? You didn’t grow up here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Grew up on more of the countryside style of life. I love the city though, do you?”

“Yeah, you gotta get used to it when you spend all your time protecting it.” I let a hint of boasting attitude out, hoping she’d realize who I am.

“Ha, I hear ya! I do my own share of ‘protecting’ around here too. Well, if you count making goodies, that is.” she giggled, standing up and walking over to the glass containers. I deflated a little, guess that wasn’t going to work this time. I shuffled over to where she was standing and looked down at the treats they offered.

“So, kind stranger, what is it you’ll be having?” she asked after a minute of me inspecting the pastries. The problem with not being picky about what you eat, means there are tons of more options than that of others, and when all the items look equally as delectable, you get a little overwhelmed. Plus, the fact that a beautiful woman whom I would very much like to not embarrass myself in front of is waiting for my answer doesn’t help.

I gulped, “I don’t know, they all look amazing. What’s your favorite?” I asked, hoping to know a little more about her.

“Oh, gosh, let me think…” she pouted, resting her head on the palm of her hand while looking deep in thought at the treats. The adorable crease of her eyebrows scrunched together, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration, her lovely, curvalicious body...that’s it, I’m so screwed.

“I think I’d go for the Chocolate Cream Puff,” her answer drawing both me and her out of our distracted states, “My dad taught me years ago this amazing chocolate ganache recipe and I drizzle that all over the tops of homemade pastry puffs and the whipped filling, ugh! It’s to die for, seriously!” she finished, a sparkle in her (E/C) eyes that fueled the fire in my gut. She spoke about food just as passionately as I did! She’s perfect.

Without thinking, I quickly said, “I’ll take ten.”

~ (Y/N) P.O.V ~

“Alright, there you go, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs. Have a wonderful day, sir!” I said with a bright smile.

“Please, call me Taishiro. And you are..?” he asked.

I flushed, I’m such a klutz, “(Y/N), pleasure to meet you, Taishiro. I hope you enjoy them and come back to visit m...us! Come visit us again!” I hastily fixed my wording.

As he smiled and waved goodbye, I rolled the tension out of my shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. It’s okay, he was nice...and cute...and...really handsome. Wow, I am I sweating?

“HOLY CRAP!” I jumped as I heard Tammy squeal out behind me, I spun around to look at her standing in the doorway to the back, watching the leaving guest with an awestruck face.

“What?! Where’s the fire?!” I shouted running up to her, grabbing the edge of my apron.

“(Y/N), look at me,” she grabbed my shoulders and forced me to stare into her hazel eyes, “Do you know who that was?”

I shrugged my shoulders as best as I could under her vice grip, “A customer, right?”

“A custom--ugh, curse you for not keeping up with the media,” she yelled while flinging her arms to the sky in exasperation before shoving them back on my shoulders, “(Y/N), that wasn’t just any old customer! That was the FatGum!”

I blinked, “Uh, who?”

“Aarrghh! The rank 58 Pro Hero in Japan! What did you say to him?!” I paled as her words sunk in. My legs felt like jelly and I wanted to lie on the floor and die of embarrassment as she raved on about my ignorance.

‘Oh, so I’ve fallen for a Pro Hero. Awesome.’

~ Timeskip to a few weeks later, same P.O.V ~

Who knew meeting a Pro Hero and potentially having a crush on him could be so amazing? After Taishiro, who is apparently a hero named FatGum, left the store, he personally posted on his main platform of media about the shop and how incredible the desserts were! Of course, to get a compliment from a hero who's Quirk is literally based around food, who’s eaten hundreds of thousands of different dishes, for him to specifically point out your’s brought the media swarming. Business went from nearly dead to tons of people coming in at all open hours! It was fantastic, and the handsome gentleman kept his promise of continually coming in and buying heaps of pastries.

You sighed, leaning against the marble counter after helping a few beautiful ladies buy some tarts, watching their desirable, attractive forms leave the shop and walk past the window. Looking around the busy lounge area, all of the customers were stunning, unique, and most of all thin. You glanced down at yourself, insecurities filling your mind about your appearance and unsurprisingly flickering back to the man plaguing your thoughts. You poked the chub, would he? No. He probably already has someone and even if he didn’t, why would he go for you? You’re a no one to him, someone who just sells him baked goods to fuel his Quirk, nothing more.

“Hey, boss man, what’s up?” Asher, a friend and employee of yours, asked while spinning you away from the counter to face him, drawing Tammy’s attention from her place on the stool behind the counter.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Asher. Just distracted is all, I’m fine!” you sighed and faked a smile.

Asher pulled a skeptical look and without looking at Tammy he said, “She’s thinking about him again, isn’t she?”

Tammy, like it was her sixth sense to pick up on gossip, flung herself to Asher’s side with the same skeptical look, “Yep, it’s so obvious.”

“I-It is?!” you yelped, pulling your hands up to your cheeks to hide your growing blush.

“What are we gonna do about them, Tam?” he asked, still not looking at her but instead grabbing your chin and tiling your head from side to side to inspect you.

“I don’t know what else to do, Ash. He so likes her back but both are too scared to make the first move. Truly a dilemma.” she said, twirling a lock of your (H/C) hair.

“Wait, he does?! How do you know?” you pleaded but they weren’t paying any attention to you anymore, making you puff out your pudgy cheeks in frustration. Opting to ignore them, you listened to the aimless chatter of the seating area. The ambiance of the confectionery made you smile because it was exactly how you’d pictured it as a little girl, the sweet smells, the laughter, it finally felt like home after all these years in the making. All your hard work was paying off in the end. Suddenly, the ringing bells of the door opening drew your attention. Glancing back, you caught a glimpse of a familiar yellow and orange clad figure whose head almost touched the ceiling. You gasped and shoved your friends off of you and to the backroom, spun around, and greeted your favorite customer with a bashful smile.

“Taishiro! How lovely to see you again,” but you quickly noticed it wasn’t just him. Two teenage boys, one with striking red hair and a warm smile and the other trembling and hiding inside of his cloak’s hood, were by FatGum’s side, which made you ask, “And who is this with you?”

“(Y/N), this is Eijirou Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki, they are training under me for hero internships. I wanted to bring them here so they could try your wicked sweets!” he finished, making you blush even harder.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, FatGum! It’s a pleasure to meet you, boys.” you finished, holding out your hand for them to shake.

The red-headed boy, Kirishima, shook your hand with a gentle, but strong grip, “Same here! I’ve heard all about this place because of the news, sorry I couldn’t come sooner!”

“Oh, that’s alright, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Tamaki.” you held out your hand, but all you got from him was a curt nod as he shrunk further into his suit.

“You’ll have to forgive, Amajiki, he’s sort of shy.” Taishiro chuckled, rubbing his hand behind his head.

You pulled your hand back with an understanding smile, “No problem, I totally get social anxiety. Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”

“No way,” you suddenly heard Tammy mumble behind you, no doubt to Asher, “He brought his kids to see her. Did not expect that. I respect the flex.”

“Isn’t that a little far for first base material?” Asher whispered back to her. You proceeded to shoot them a terrifying glare and subtly kick both of them in the shins, a symbol for them to scram. They gulped and hobbled off to the back to avoid your wrath while you huffed and whipped your hair out of your face with a smile.

“Anyways, since the three of you are here, what would you boys like? It’s on the house!” you confidently boasted.

Taishiro gasped, “(Y/N), no. I can’t do that to you, we’ll pay.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Taishiro. You are by far the most paying of customers and since you’re my favorite of all I want to give this to you. Call it, uh, thank you present for all the publicity you’ve given my store! I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” you grinned.

He sighed and, though it could have been your imagination, blushed a little, “At least let me pay for my portion. I get considerably more than them.”

“Nope, it’s already been decided! Kirishima, what would you like?” you changed the topic before Taishiro could argue with you again. He rolled his eyes, clear girl.

“Hmm,” Kirishima thought, “Do you have anything with strawberries?”

“I got just the thing for you. How about a Strawberry Turnover?” you directed him over to the case with the pastry. He took one glance and excitedly nodded his head and you smiled, grabbed the sweet with a clean pair of tongs, placed it on a napkin, and handed it over to the young man. He grinned and shoveled the pastry into his mouth without hesitation.

“Thanks so much, Miss (Y/N)! It’s delicious!” he praised through a mouth full of food, making you giggle at his silliness. Walking back over to the registrar, you saw Tamaki looking at you. When he was caught, he gasped, quickly spun around, and hid himself away from you by pressing into FatGum’s body.

“What would you like, Tamaki?” you patiently asked. Taishiro looked at you with doubt and started saying something but you quickly shushed him and continued to wait for the teen’s answer.

Knowing that you weren’t going to give up, Tamaki quietly mumbled out, “D-D-Do you...have anything with...b-black raspberry? I-If you don’t that’s fine too, I-I didn’t mean to sound too rude or--”

“I believe I do,” you quickly interrupted so he didn’t go into a spiraling haze of self doubt, “Would a Black Raspberry Lychee Cake suffice, Tamaki?”

“Y-Yes, Miss (Y/N)...” he sighed in relief, glancing at you with tears in his eyes. You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed the treat for him, handing it to FatGum so he could hold on to it for Tamaki.

“And now, what’ll you have, kind stranger?” you grinned as he chuckled.

“I’ll take my usual then, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs, please.” he concluded while giving a sweet grin.

You snarked, “You always get the same thing every time, Taishiro. Don’t you wanna try anything else? I promise they’re poisoned.” you smirked.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Are you sure about that?” he joked.

“Taishiro! What kind of business would I be if I poisoned all my guests?” you laughed at him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try something different, ma’am. Do you have anything with pineapple?” he asked with curiosity.

“You betcha. How does a Pineapple Poke Cake sound, sir?” you interrogated. You saw stars glisten in his eyes and you giggled at his excitement.

“How many?” you joked.

“I’ll take 12!” he concluded, blissfully staring off into space.

You packaged up his request in a cutesy (F/C) box with your confectionery’s logo and, biting your lip in apprehension, decided that if he wasn’t going to make his move then you would. You quickly wrote down your phone number on top of the box in Sharpie and signed off your name with a small black heart. As you finished the lettering you stared at the box and thought about your previous insecurities. There was still time, still time to take out the pastries, put them in a new box, and forget the whole number thing ever happened.

“Hey, don’t you dare take out those treats and put them in a new box, you hear me, girl?!” you heard a tiny male voice whisper above you. Startled, you looked up to see Tammy and Asher peeking through the window that let the customers see into the back of the bakery to watch the baking happen. You glared at the two, so they had been watching you try and confess your feelings to the fluffy hero in a discreet way.

“What am I supposed to do? What if he doesn’t like me and all the signs I’ve been getting from him are me making up a love story that is never going to happen between us?! What if by doing this I ruin our relationship and he makes sure the business tanks?! This is my life's work and I’m putting it on the line for a stupid chance at love!” you whisper yelled at them, the familiar feeling of fear and pain coursing through your system from previous failed love confessions.

“You really think a sweet man like that is going to make your life’s dream completely fall to pieces?” Tammy questioned and you exhaled, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Then go out there and get yo mans! You have to at least try and snatch that, I have to see my OTP become canon!” she sent a determined glare at you, grabbed the box, shoved it in your hands, spun you around, and pushed your forward. You stumbled and almost tripped onto the floor but caught yourself on the marble counter. Standing up tall, you took a deep breath in and urged your legs to move forward. Getting to the registrar, you smiled at Taishiro and the boys and handed over the box to FatGum after giving a subtle cough.

“Thank you for everything, Taishiro, you’ve helped me in ways you could never imagine. Now, I hope you boys come back sometime!” you spoke to the teens, Kirishima grinning at you with his shark-like teeth.

“Will do, Miss (Y/N)! I couldn’t stay away from this place even if I tried, your desserts are the BOMB!” he laughed, punching his fists together in excitement.

“...Thank you, Miss (Y/N).” Tamaki shyly whispered, giving you half a grin before cowering away once more.

“Don’t mention it, loves! Now, Taishiro, remember that I said this is on the--whoa! Are you okay?” you asked the man. His face was almost as red as his student’s hair, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at the top of the box, where your number neatly sat. You gulped, maybe it was the wrong decision after all.

Waving a nervous hand in front of Taishiro’s face, it seemed to break him from his spellbound state as he glanced at your eyes, “Are you...feeling okay, Taishiro?”

He looked at you with a shaken gaze as he laughed off his nerves while saying, “Y-Yeah! Just, um...yeah...you...let’s go, boys! Gotta get back to the patrol! Bye, (Y/N)!” he said while ushering the confused boys away from the counter and to the door. You felt your heart shatter into dozens of pieces as you turned your head down to conceal your sorrowed expression from the rest of the lounge area. You felt your eyes wet with tears but you used the sleeve of your white button down you dry them, you have to stay strong. At least you got it off your chest. Sniffling, you turned your head back up only to see FatGum’s face, only he was suddenly a lot more chiseled in the face and body and wow, did it just get hot in here?

“I forgot one thing.” he said with a flustered smile. You, less heartbroken then before just more confused, shrugged your shoulders in question. He then grasped your shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and planted a loving and firm kiss on your right cheek. You felt your face melt into a puddle of red as he held the kiss for a few seconds longer than anticipated but eventually released your cheek, staring back at you with the same expression as you.

“Did you really think I was going to leave without paying you back, cream puff?” he chuckled with a grin.

“I-I, um…” no longer sorrowed, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that he most definitely liked you back.

“Heh, you’re cute when you’re flustered for me. I’ll text you later, okay? Keep on the look out for me!” he said, backing up from the counter, only to grow immensely in size as he returned to the state you had met the hero in. He waved goodbye as he walked back to Kirishima who was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

“Congratulations on the relationship, Miss (Y/N)!” the teen sang out as the three of them left the store to patrol the streets for their hero duties once again.

The entire restaurant was silent as they watched your chubby form turn into a puddle of emotions and ditzy giggles, the only thing that was heard was a loud, “YES! IT’S CANON, BABY!”

~ The End ~

#mha #bnha #mha oneshot #fluff #fanfiction #oneshot #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum #x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum x reader #kirishima #eijirou kirishima #tamaki #tamaki amajiki #chubby #chubby reader #x chubby reader #x baker reader

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the-mercurial-star-o-vesper · 4 years

Text

I HEARD A SCREAM...

… in the woods somewhere.

What do you know about the Walten Files?

Theater Ahead. I like a good dramatic show, so I’m going to add some flaire. Some will be references, some will be questions, some will just be me being weird. Its all good fun, I assure you. Stuff like this usually is. The song being referenced is Hozier’s “In the Woods”.

Horror Ahead. Do Not Consume after Dark. Do Not Consume until 18+. If you cannot stand blood, body horror, horror and terror, the dark, and murderous robots, this is your final warning. Turn away. For some things should remain in darkness, and we only have a lighter for company…

Spoilers Ahead. If you haven’t seen the Walten Files, I’d watch them. I’d recommend some theory videos then, to make some sense of what you saw. We’re plunging into the dark and the deep, and the story here has both a helpful narrative and a malicious one. Someone is trying to help us, but someone is trying to stop us…

[Safety in Pills, Sophie]

A brief summary, the Walten Files (made by Martin Walls on Youtube) are a VHS style horror-mystery series on Youtube, taking inspiration from both the Lost VHS FNAF videos and FNAF itself.

Our (Main) Animatronics this time around are: - Bon, the Bonnie-inspired central character. Definitely, explicitly, implied to be possessed by one Jack Walten, who is the center of our supernatural stuff. Whatever is going on, it leads back to Jack. We have not seen Jack Walten’s death scene, and that’s one of our biggest mysteries. Bon is HOSTILE DO NOT TOUCH. - Bannie, a purple female bunny character. Explicitly implied to be possessed by one Susan Woodings. She have a lot of implication of her death, but nothing confirmed. - Boozoo, what appears to be a human(like) circus master looking character. Implied to be possessed by one Charles (Walten?); we have not had any scenes, as of this writing, on when or how Charles died, only implication that he is possessing Boozoo. - Sha, a white female Sheep character (too easily mistaken for a Poodle). We know she’s possessed by one Rosemary Walten. We watched it happen. - Billy, a Clown animatronic. Likely possessed by one Ashley P, as we got to listen to her death screams as Bon stuffed her into the animatronic. Billy the Clown has a list of names on a tape, overriding a birthday party song.

Now, I’m not gonna go through any Mass Story theories and I’m not going to make a timeline, but I am going to point out some things I saw and found. Minitheories, probably, lots of speculation, maybe, and mayhaps, we’ll get some stepping stones. [You do not have all the clues to solve this]

0. DEATH OF THE AUTHOR (OF THE RECORDING) … I clutched my life, and wished it kept.

Notice how every File ends in a Death? Mostly the Deaths of the Employees who made the ending video? File 3 is going to be interesting…

CONSIDERATIONS: - If the 3D distorting face was Bon’s recognition software, does it also have something to do with why Brian’s face was beyond recognition? A horrifying turn of events, if Bon was actively trying to make his head as the 3D imaging was trying to make the Identification fit some sort of Criteria.

1. CRYING ANIMATRONICS … I saw new eyes were watching me.

One thing that separates Bon’s Animatronics from FNAF’s is that these guys cry. When in cartoon form, they’ll do one of two kinds of crying: Actual sadness and tears, which is to be expected from cartoons, and the black stream, which is to be expected from horror.

But there is importance here.

For one thing, they only seem to do this (except in one case, but we’ll get to that) when encountering certain entities.

For example, our mystery sprite, which I’m dubbing the “Shadow With Eyes”.

In the cartoon, where Sha introduces us to the K9 Facility, the Shadow With Eyes appeared on the second time we entered the Basement, blocking the bottom doorway. [How odd, I remember we visited this room already]

When she finally appears on screen, Sha starts crying with tears. (Her poster has blacked out eyes). When she attempts to go down to the blocked doorway, either into or through the Shadow With Eyes, the scene glitches / crashes.

The poster is crying the dark streams, and so is Sha.

Not long after, we’re introduced to the story and death of Rosemary.

We are treated with the image of her cartoon dismembered corpse, and to Bon, with bloodied hands (and a bloodied leg?), as he stuffed the pieces into Sha. However… He’s caught in the act, as the screen turns from black to white (lights on?) and the Shadow With Eyes walks through the Employee’s Only door. Sha is distorted…

But Bon is crying Black Streams.

We have been introduced to this before. The first animatronic who “cried” was Bon from the first File, with the dark streams, implied to be blood. And when he did this, it was in the middle of Brian Stells’ video recording.

Is it possible that the Shadow With Eyes is an Employee? Perhaps even a Facility Caretaker? It does appear in the K9 Facility, and the purple uniform is shown being worn by an Employee in the Relocate Project video as they pack Billy into a moving Van.

But wait.

What about Bannie? She cries tears, then cries black streams / blood. But there doesn’t appear to be anyone around.

But her room was glitching too, wasn’t it? She couldn’t leave, the doorways kept her inside. She was trying to get out, trying to get the “Owner’s” attention.

Perhaps… She had a Witness who ignored her.

[There’s something missing here…]

QUESTIONS: - Who is the Shadow With Eyes? Are they a Facility Caretaker? - Who was the poor bastard who walked in on Rosemary’s murder? - Does this give reason why Bon attacked Brian?

2. LOOKIN’ FOR FRIENDS … I called your name till the fever broke.

Bannie introduced us to the Animatronic expressions, and while it doesn’t appear to be relevant yet. I should note, that when Bon (or someone) called Rosemary backstage at Bon’s Burgers… His eyes were also in “LOOKING FOR FRIENDS” mode, before settling on Rosemary. The same mode Bannie was tested on, before settling on the Viewer / Recorder.

QUESTIONS: - The Mode was introduced by the Revisions, so how the Hell did Bon have it years before? - Bon talks?

3. BACKROOM … I turned and ran, to save a life I didn’t have.

In the introductory cartoon with Sha, Sha tries to explain what the three doors have. But when she gets to the third door [Oh what does it Hide], her face distorts. With small blank black eyes, and a mouth that was clearly edited to be upside down [make that smile turn into a frown].

We do see this later. With Ashley P’s portrait with her friends, as she is being murdered or worse by Bon… After going into the Backrooms.

Every Facility Caretaker (and Tech it seems) is given a small key, and that small key goes to the Backrooms.

The Backrooms hide something, and its possible that it hides Billy (an Animatronic implied to have been on Stage, but not stored with the other Stage Animatronics) and a tape with the names (A hitlist?). But the end text says that Ashley “Saw” something, not listened.

QUESTIONS: - Was the Third Door the Backroom as the editing Implies? - Why are the Main Animatronics stored separately from all the ones in the Backrooms? - If the Techs were supposed to repair the animatronics, why not just take the endoskeletons and other parts from the Backroom, and place them where they can be easily found and thus make things go faster? - What did Ashley see, if it wasn’t the tape? Was it Billy? Another strange animatronic? (the Gray Rabbit?) - If there is something in the Backrooms meant to be hidden, why give a Key to the Employees at all? Why not keep it with those who are “in the Know”? Its almost as if someone wants something to be found… Murderous Bunny notwithstanding.

4. NAMES ARE IMPORTANT ... I prayed my mind be good to me.

The names of the characters all have meanings, and some of them might be important: - JACK - Gracious; Supplanter; Man - WALTEN - Foreigner; Wood; Wall; Stream; Ruler - ROSEMARY - Rose + Mary - SUSAN - Lily Flower; Rose - WOODINGS - Wood Cutting; Mad (?) - CHARLES - Man; Free Man; Warrior; Army - BRIAN - High; Noble - STELLS - Stella? Star. - ASHLEY - Ash Meadow; Ash Tree Meadow - ANTHONY - Son of Herakles; Priceless One; Flower - FELIX - Lucky - KRANKEN - Suffer (... Now that’s an interesting last name) + MARY - Bitter; Beloved; Rebelliousness; Wished-For-Child; Marine; Drop of the Sea. + HERAKLES - Glory of Hera + HERA - Beloved; Air

- SOPHIE - SOPHIA. Wisedom; Skill; Cleverness; Intelligence [Be Wise] CONSIDERATIONS: There are themes of knowledge, light, darkness, blindness, and last I checked... We do have a “holy” entity, Sophia, from Gnosticism and Gnosticism deals in themes of Knowledge, Light, Darkness and Blindness. A demiurge that created a suffering world... A world in darkness... A world where man suffers...

Hm...

[... With knowledge but never with...]

5. Sy05 (?) [?] … I spoke no words, no sound he made.

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To be continued as the series continues.

How many years I’ll know I’ll bear I found something in the woods somewhere.

#The Walten Files #Walten Files #Walten Files Theories #The Walten Files Theories #Theories #In the Woods Somewhere #Hozier In the Woods Somewhere

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