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#Where I live most people will just shove into your personal space without saying anything
dailymanners · 2 months
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Always use "excuse me" if you have to get into someone else's personal space.
Someone at the store is standing in front of the shelf where there's a can you want to grab? Don't just reach into their personal space without warning, say "excuse me" or "pardon my reach" first so that they at least have a warning that someone is about to reach into their personal space, and most importantly, so that they have a chance to move before you get into their space.
Or if someone is standing on a walkway or in a doorway you need to get through, don't just silently shove past them or squeeze past them, say "excuse me" so that they have a warning that a someone is about to squeeze or shove into their personal space, and they have a chance to move out of the way before you do you.
People deserve a fair warning if someone is about to squeeze or shove or reach into their personal space. A lot of people are not okay with having someone, but especially a stranger, randomly shove or squeeze or reach into their personal space without warning. They also deserve a chance to move out of the way first for the sake of their comfort.
Try to avoid just staring at people who are in your way and expecting them to read your mind that you want them to move. Most people cannot, in fact, read minds, so having someone stand in front of them and stare at them often only leads to making them feel uncomfortable and frustrated.
But also more importantly, if you are standing somewhere someone needs to get to, and they say excuse me, you should move aside for them even if just temporarily, so they can avoid the discomfort of having to reach into your personal space or squeeze past you.
If someone is saying "excuse me" it's because they would like you to move because they don't want to have to get into your personal space, whether it's out of respect for you, or just because they themselves are not comfortable getting in your personal space.
All of this goes double for people with trauma and/or people who are neurodivergent. If someone has trauma related to abuse or assault they may find it more upsetting or possibly triggering to suddenly have someone shoving or reaching in their personal space without warning.
Or, many types of neurodivergence can make it especially disturbing and unpleasant to have someone else in your personal space, especially without warning.
You can never be 100% sure who is and isn't traumatized and/or neurodivergent, so always practice respecting other's personal space by giving them a fair warning with "excuse me" or "pardon my reach" before getting in their personal space, and moving aside when you hear those magic words. Or, even if someone isn't traumatized nor neurodivergent, it's still fair to not like someone in your personal space without warning and not being given the opportunity to move first.
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Roommates (stucky x reader)
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3767 words
A/N: i'm writing this fic for...almost 6 months, i dreamed many times of stucky and their roommate. it was always hard to write i had seen in my dreams and to translate all i felt during those dreams. But here we are.
It's gonna be in idk many parts.
This one is a little introduction, and with slight angst.
Enjoy,
Cloudy
TW: fluff, light angst, polyamourous relationship. Steve and Bucky (they're a warning...) <...>= texting
Don't be shy, reblog, comment, like!
magnificient moodboard by the amazing @christywantspizza
divider by the talentuous : @firefly-graphics
not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own.
Part 1 | Part 2 | part 3
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When you had to find an apartment. You never thought to find yourself with two gentle giants for roommates. But here you are, one year later with Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers in a nice and homely appartement.
You knew them from college, they were friends of friends and when your last roommate kicked you out because she wanted to be alone with her boyfriend… the two big guys were nice enough to propose you to come and live with them for a while. “Yeah, don’t need to pressure yourself, doll, take your time to get back on your feet. We have enough rooms for three.”, told you Bucky. “And when you find a studio or something else, we’ll help you to move out and in, sweetheart.”, said Steve.
But one year later, you don’t want to move out. You like to be here with these two. Monday is Buck’s night for cooking. Tuesday, yours, Wednesday is Steve turns, Thursday is movie night with take outs or leftovers and Friday to Sunday is more like “who’s there, who’s eating at home, who wants to go out?” vibes.
Life is easy, and you were surprised to see that…they clean, like ALL the time. Steve is the tidiest of all of you. Buck tries to keep is mess in his bedroom and ask for help when he has too much “trash”.  Sunday is almost always the day where you all clean the appartement. You cook pancakes or waffles and then it’s time to give the appartement a little bit of a makeover. It’s always full of giggles and pinning. Like the time you found a boxer under the couch. Bucky was a blushing mess, saying it was from like two weeks ago when this girl came home with him after a night out. “But I respected the rules, we didn’t do anything on the couch”. Or the time, Steve found your vibrator under the bathroom cabinet, you just took it back and gave him an innocent smile and told him to forget about it. Spoiler alert: Steve didn’t forget that and was impatient to finally have the guts to ask you if you wanted to use it with him one day.
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Today, it’s Friday. It’s the first slow day you have in weeks.  Steve is out with some friends and Bucky didn’t answer yet to tell you if he’ll be home tonight.
You decide to eat some leftovers and to watch for the hundredth time your favourite movie. Thirty minutes in, you hear the keys and then the door opens with a loud thud. An angry Bucky storms in the living room and lay on you without saying a word. He pushes his head between your breasts and groans. “Ok, hello to you too grumpy man. Can you tell me why you invade my space and doesn’t ask for my consent before shoving your head here?” Bucky starts to mumble fast, and you don’t understand anything.  You slap him gently on the back of his head. He stops and lifts his head to look at you. “Shitty day, shitty people. Need a stress relief. May I, doll, please?” he pouts and makes his best puppy eye.
Since you arrived, you realised that the two giants you lived with were very into physical touch. Bucky likes to lay on you meanwhile Steve likes to play with your hair during movie night or offers you little massages during them.
You never complain, you’re most of the time cold so this two are your personals heaters.
You start to massage Bucky’s head and this lovely idiot starts to act like a cat and purrs. “Did you eat?” he asks you.
“Yup, leftovers, there’s still some if you want.”
“The lasagna?”.
“Mmmh”.
The evening goes on. But you can feel that Bucky wants to ask you something. He’s fidgeting, more than usual, and can’t seem to stop touching you. He’s currently massaging your calf. “What is it, Buck?”.
He sighs, and sighs again before sitting up and looking you dead in the eye. “Can I kiss you, doll?”. First, you think he’s joking, but then his expression is too serious for your liking. “Like kiss me on the lips?”, you ask him.
“Yup.”
��“WHY?” you almost scream in shock.
He blushes and whispers “because you look beautiful, and I want to kiss you”.
“that’s a cheesy pick-up line, Barnes.”
He looks at you again and asks, “but does it work?” shyly you nod. You won’t lie, you already thought of what it would feel like to kiss Bucky, but you never really asked him, too scared to make thing awkward with your roommates. “So can I kiss you, doll face?” when you don’t say anything he gets closer, when his lips are almost touching yours, he murmurs “I need words, Y/N”.
You swallow loudly before saying “yes, you can, Bucky”.
Then his lips are on yours. The kiss is tender, lovely and your fingers grab his hair. His hands get under your shirt, and you shiver. You feel his tongue caresses your lower lips and you parted them. When both or your tongues meet, the kiss gets more and more passionate. Your legs circle instinctively his waist to bring him closer. When you need to breath you break the kiss and Bucky is panting above you. Pupils blown out and lips swollen. He’s more beautiful than ever. You smile, a little bit uncomfortable. You tap his cheek gently and whisper “gonna go to toilets, sorry”. He nods and lets you go.
Bucky can’t wait to tell Steve what happened.
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Two weeks later, Bucky has never once talk about the kiss… at least with you. You didn’t either. You felt weird. Not in a bad way, you wanted to start again, to try again and see if the kiss made you feel again all dizzy and warm.
But for now, you are alone with Steve. Bucky went home to see his family.
“Truth or dare, sweets?” asks Steve from the kitchen.
“Really, aren’t we like to old or outnumbered to play this game?” he snorts and come back with your cocktail and his beer.
“Nope, it’ll be fun”.
“If you say so, truth” you reply.
After maybe twenty minutes, you have to say that he is right, you’re having fun. You told secrets that both of you had never tell and you did some fun dares. But now, Steve wanted to ask you to kiss him.
He spoke with Bucky, and he was jealous. He’s best friend had the guts to kiss you, when he was too afraid to be rejected. But tonight, with the alcohol in his system he feels powerful.
“I dare you to kiss me…with tongues!”, he declares. You laugh because he made a move with his tongue, but you accept the dare. Why not try and see if your attraction for Steve is the same as for Bucky?
When your lips touch his. You feel sparkles down your spine. When you lick his lips with your tongue and he part his, you feel hot all over. His hands go to your waist, and he places you on his lap.  And like with Bucky it gets heated pretty fast. And like with Bucky, you end the kiss and excuse yourself to go to the toilets
&lt;Stevie: I did it, buck.
Bucky: how does that feel, punk?
Stevie: like a dream came true, but I don’t want to scare her. We are not playing fair.
Bucky: I know, we must discuss that the three of us when I get back.
Stevie: what if she says no. What if she wants to be just with you.
Bucky: or you…
Stevie: I am sure she likes you more.
Bucky: stop, Steve. We don’t know what she feels. Did she kiss you back? Like really kiss you.
Stevie: yup…that was so hot. She did the thing with her tongue you told me about.>
“Stevie?” you say when you come back in the living room.
“Yup?”.
“I-I think I’ll go to bed. See you tomorrow?” you ask shyly.
“Sleep well, sweetheart, brunch is on me!”. You kiss his cheek and retrieve to your bedroom.
&lt;Y/N: I kissed Steve.
Nat: WHAT? AFTER BUCKY?
Y/N: we were playing truth or dare. He dared me to kiss him. (with tongues, his words, not mine)
Nat: and ?
Y/N: I don’t know what I am supposed to do now. I felt the exact same thing with Bucky and Steve. And you know I don’t feel much when I kissed guys until I am pretty attached to them.
Nat: yeah I know…you and your demi-sexual thing.
Y/N: scuse you bisexual girl who dates only nerds guy. How’s Bruce?
Nat: currently massagin’ my feet so perfect. But you need to talk to them. I am sure they’re planning something.
Y/N: planning smth?
Nat: ask them. Good night, babe.>
What you didn’t know, it’s that before you join them in the appartement. Bucky and Steve had a thing, that only Natasha knows. They are best friends, sure, but they’re also lovers. They only tend to be like that when you are not around, since you moved in.
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You are not going to lie to yourself, you are feeling bad to have kiss your two roommates. And you are feeling worse to have like it, both time and even considering doing it again.
This Saturday, you come back from a little walk with Natasha. When you arrive, the appartement is quiet, a little bit to quiet. No one is in the living room and the door from Bucky’s room is wide open and empty, but the room from Steve is closed. You wait to hear something, like Steve has a girl around, but nothing.
You go there and knock. Steve’s voice comes to you in a grumble “yeah?”, “Hello, just to let you know I am home. “, you say.
 “Oh hey, little one, ok, we’ll be there soon for dinner.”
You can’t stop your question “We?”. You hear Steve chuckles and then he invites you in.
“Buck and I, sweets, who else?” he says when you open the door.
Steve is on his back with Bucky curled onto his side, sound asleep. You saw them bro cuddling now and then, but never like that. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything. Bucky has hard days and seems to find comfort in cuddling. “I have an empty space right here” teases Steve and tapping the other side of him. You hesitate and decide to go and join the cuddle. You lay down beside Steve, his arm goes around your waist. You put your hand on his chest, just beside Bucky’s hand.
 “He’s ok?” you ask quietly.
“Bad day, really bad one.”, answers Steve.  Automatically, you caress Bucky’s cheek and pass your finger in his hair. “How was your day with Natty?”.
“Good, really nice.”, you smile at Steve.
In your walk with Nat, you arrived at this conclusion: no need to put words for now, just enjoy the feeling of being close to those two wonderful men. So, you enjoy the cuddle and to pass your fingers in Bucky hair, while Steve caress your hip. You’re at peace. You’ve never felt like this with any of your ex’s.
Maybe they talked to each other, and they know that you have kissed each of them, maybe you can tell Steve now and Bucky when he wakes up. Maybe, just maybe you are, and they are into polyamorous relationship. Maybe…
“Stevie?” you murmur in his neck, he smells divine as always, citrus and pine. He hums in response. “I…I kissed Bucky before I kissed you.” His hand still on your waist and he squeezes it.
“Yeah, same Sweetheart, I kissed him before I kissed you.” You sit up, not sure to have truly heard what he said.
“Wait, what?”. Steve grins at you, then he turns his head to Bucky and kisses him on his forehead. Buck sighs in his sleep and get more comfortable on Steve. His leg goes on his thighs, and he tightens his grip around the waist. He looks peaceful. “You’ve kissed?”, Steve shrugs but his smile tells you everything you need.
You weren’t expecting that, of course not, but why are you not more shocked or disturbed? You look at them and it’s like the missing piece of the puzzle in your head. Everything starts to make sense, or you have more questions that need answers. “I always thought that your friendship was more than that”, you think out loud. Steve chuckles while Bucky stirs in his sleep. He tucks himself more onto Steve and his hand, who was on his stomach, goes right to Steve’s crotch. And the blond does nothing to stop him, well not exactly nothing, he’s looking at you and when he sees your expression, he gently takes bucky hand et brings it back to his sternum.
“I think we need to talk the three of us, Sweets” he whispers to you. You can only nod and keep staring at their interlaced hands. “We don’t want to scare you away, you know?”,
“Scare me away?”, you ask intrigue.
“Yeah, by telling you our little secret.” You stay silent, not sure you want to acknowledge the truth just yet…because it doesn’t scare you at all, it turns you on more and that’s what scares you, you almost feel like a creep.
“I would have never judged you. You can love who you want” you finally say. Steve smiles and brings you closed once again. You put your hand on top of theirs. For the first time in a long time, you feel complete and that stress you out.
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The next day, you all decide to have THE discussion. It’s just after your usual Sunday brunch. The guys are doing the dishes and you just looking in the void. Your mind is racing. What if it just a dream, what if they pranked you?
“Dollface? You’re with us?” calls you Bucky. You blink twice to focus on them again. They are smiling, and you get butterflies.
“Yeah, I am” you whisper.
“Good, good, so…” starts Steve. And then he explains everything, his relationship with Bucky, their attraction for you since they met you. You listen, stunned by their revelations. Bucky points out some details and makes you giggle. You feel shy and powerful. The more they talk, the more they stare at you with love and lust. You have the last word; you are the one who has to say yes or no.  You take a big breath and ask, “How would it works?”.
They are taken aback; Bucky takes Steve’s hand under the table and squeeze it hard. “If we try this throuple, we have to make rules, right?” You sound so confident; Steve’s heart is beating fast.
“Yeah, we need rules for the start, to try and navigate in this together” states Bucky. You nod and smile. Then you get up and round the table to go to their side. You see their hands and chuckle.
 “No more hiding now, show me those hands, guys”. They laugh and put their hands on the table, you place both of your hand on their neck. It feels good, you like that they don’t have the same texture, but they both soft. They lean against you and close their eyes.
 “I feel like I just solved a puzzle” murmurs Bucky. “Is it weird?” he asks.
 “I don’t know, don’t feel weird. “, you answer. Steve is the first to move, he stands up and takes your hand and Bucky’s and goes on the couch. He sits down and puts you on his laps. Bucky takes your calf and cuddle against Steve. One of Steve’s arms is around your waist and the other is around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky has one arm around Steve waist and the other on your legs. You put your hand on each one of them that touches you.
 After a moment of silence, you ask” Can we kiss again?”.
 “Yes, please” they said in unison. “I want to see you kiss” you murmur.  They don’t move, Steve’s blushing, while Bucky is looking at you. You put your hands on their chins and turn their faces, so they face each other. “Please, can I see you kiss?”. Your gentle command makes them move. Slowly they approach each other lips. When they start kissing, it’s sensual, loving and you get flustered. It’s hot, you never thought that looking at two people kissing would be this sexy. Then Bucky does something that makes Steve moans. You did once or twice hear him having someone around, but he has never moaned like that. Steve’s hand on your hip squeezes your flesh. Steve breaks the kiss first; Bucky bites his lower lip.
 “You turn, doll face”, growls Bucky. You expect him to kiss you, but he does the same as you did, take your chin between his fingers, and make you face Steve. You kiss the blond; you try some of your trick to make him moan like Bucky and when you succeed you break the kiss and turn your intention on Buck. He smiles at you, and you smile back, before going to kiss him. With Bucky, each of you fight for dominance. You move on Steve’s lap and after a while, you feel him getting hard under you. Suddenly the reality of the situation strikes, and you start to panic.
You get up and say, “I’m going to the toilets”. Bucky and Steve watch you go, and they try not to laugh, because they recognise a pattern there.
Your room is next to the toilets and when you go out, you look at your bed and you really want to hide yourself. But why would you hide? You take a deep breath before going back in the living room.
They are whispering to each other, Bucky seems unhappy, while Steve tries to calm him down. “hey, guys!”, they turn their heads so fast, you’re sure they’re going to bump into each other and you giggle. “ehm, sorry to ran away, could we…could we go in my room? For more privacy?”
Steve is the first to get up, Bucky looks at you strangely “privacy of what? we are the only one here” he says in a cold voice.
“Bucky” warns Steve.
 You sigh and smile “No he’s right Steve. Bucky, I know that we are alone, but I would feel better and safer in my room…because it’s new to me and I need to navigate around all of that…around this new us. If that makes sense?”
Bucky relaxes and nods, standing up, “makes sense, sorry.” You wait for them to come close to you before you take each of their hand and guide them into your room.
“Where do we sleep?”, you ask.
“Let’s just say, that we can sleep on our own or together, but no pressure” answers Steve. You smile and walk into your room, sitting on your bed facing them.
Bucky is the first to go lay and waits for Steve and you. “Doll, in the middle” he commands. You giggle and do as he say, loving the few times you find yourself engulf between those two sweet giants.
Steve follows you and sighs. “Love the smell of your sheets, sweetheart”. You smile at him and blushes.
“I use the same wash as you…”, he laughs softly and kisses your cheek.
“But it still smells like you.” He boops your nose and you giggle shyly. Bucky brings you close to him, and he kisses your neck, making you shudder.
“When did you know?”, he asks you.
“When I did know what, bucky?”
“That you liked both of us”.
This question, you’ve been asking it to yourself for weeks now. But honestly, it just came along the way. The fact that they opened their home for you, that they’ve always been there since. Always have a shoulder to lay on, someone to rely on. You’ve never felt alone since you moved in here. You tell them that and they both smile, Steve strokes your cheeks and Bucky your hip. You feel safe, understood, and complete.
Then, they both lean in and kiss you. A three-way kiss, that left you breathless and panting. You look at them and you smile, stroking their chin with your thumb, loving the difference of texture. Steve is shaved, while bucky always have a three-day beard. You pass your thumb on their lips and bucky groans, pupils wide, the blue of his eyes almost inexistant.
“You’ve freed the beast”, chuckles Steve, who’s biting his lip.  
“Y/N, Sweetheart?”, whispers Steve. You try to focus on him, but flashback holds you in your terror.
You look between them, and you take a shaky breath. “Oh, yeah?”. Bucky nods and starts to pempers kisses on your cheek and neck.
“Can I kiss you doll?”. You nod and he kisses you tenderly, deeply, you let him have the dominance in that kiss. It feels good, but then his hands wonder on your body, and you start to panic. Bad memories coming back to you. You try to tell him to stop, but then Steve joins him and you freeze, panic taking hold of you, and you feel hopeless, unable to tell them to stop. You whimper and they stop everything they do and look at you. Your eyes are tearing up and you’re heaving, fright written on your face.
Bucky looks at Steve and he’s panicking; the blond understands he must be stronger for both of you. “Buck, it’s okay, she must have…”, they look at each other and remembered the time you came home totally shaking and afraid. It was just before you dump your last friend with benefits.
“Rumlow”, growls Bucky. “I’m gonna end him”.
You take bucky hand and holds it tight. “don’t leave me.”
“I’m not, I’m here doll.” You nod and looks at Steve.
“I won’t either, sweetheart, I’ll stay here with you. Just take a deep breath for us?”. You nod and do some breathing exercise, following what Steve does and then Bucky when he joins in.
“So-sorry”, you murmur, unable to look at them, fiddling with your nails. One hand goes on yours and then another.
“No need to be sorry”, they said in unison, their soothing voice calming you even more.
“it’s a lot.”
“Then we take our time.”, says Steve softly.
“Yeah, you’re stuck with us now”, jokes gently Bucky and that makes you smile.  
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part 2
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simonsdoll · 1 year
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⛓POSSESSION⛓
PART:THREE
Warning:angst, possessive/obsessive behavior,jealousy,stalking and kidnapping
DISCLAIMER: NSFW CONTENT AND MDNI
PAIRING: Yandere Ghost x fem!reader
A/N: I want to make this very clear that I do not condone this behavior. This is written for military fem reader.The yandere behavior will gradually get more intense so please be aware. Again please be aware that this is a touchy subject. Hope you enjoy! ❤️
Ghost had kept his unhealthy obsession a secret from the rest. Price was the only one who you could manage to get a word from without Ghost scolding you for it. It was weird how all of a sudden Ghost would be more protective of you. It felt like such a safe space to be around him. To his annoying sarcasm to his funny jokes; he wasn’t that bad of a person if you thought about it. He protected you from other soldiers but at times he would go overboard with handling situations. This sudden protectiveness felt oddly strange coming from a man like Ghost. So closed off and very quiet, but with you he was so charismatic and charming. He was so respectful of you.“I’ll be who I have to be and I can be perfect for you”.
You did notice how it was strange how he would out of nowhere ask you some personal questions. About what you do outside of work,if you have any friends outside of work and to even asking about where you lived. Obviously you tried answering them with the most due respect in such to not make anything uncomfortable between the both of you. Either way if you don’t give him the information he wants he’ll have to find it himself. “I just want you to be safe and away from others because they can’t have you only I can”.
Whenever Ghost was with you it’s as if he was distracted by something. You would often ask him what would be on his mind and he either denied or said nothing. It kind of scared you in a way but you made yourself think he could have a crush on you. The way he would flirt with you and only nice to you rather than the rest of the team was noticeable by you. When you would call him out on it he would say “Oh so I can’t be nice now?”. He was never really the same after the new schedule change. Maybe he grew on you and you feel something for your lieutenant. The way he would stare at you for prolonging period of time was subtle but noticeable. When you would stare at him back he wouldn’t look away. He kept eye contact until you looked away from shyness. “If only you were mine I would have you away from other people’s gaze”.
With time Ghost’s perverted behavior only grew worse. He made himself welcome into your room when you weren’t around. He needed more of you. Him fucking his fist to the thought of you wasn’t enough. He opened and went through your closet. He grabbed an old t shirt you hanged up and he fisted it and took in your amazing scent. It smelled just like you and he wanted to preserve the scent the best he could so he took note to never wash it. EVER. He then opened one of your dresser drawers and took a small pink panty that was made of lace. He quickly admired it and shoved it in his vest pocket. “Don’t worry I’ll return it once your mine”.
Now that he had your possessions, the scent would soon fade away. With all of his natural musk that took away from your sweet scent. When you were out on your lunch break he sneaked back into your room and shuffled through drawers and small cabinets for your perfume. He finally found the bottle and took it with him to his room. He sprayed your perfume on his pillows and blankets and all over the shirt and panties he took from you. He took note of the name of the bottle so he could purchase some later to always have your scent with him.“You smell amazing.”
He would use the now perfumed panties to masturbate and get off of your scent. If he didn’t have the tshirt or your panties he wouldn’t cum as much as he usually would with them. He would look forward every time he would masturbate because you gave him that sense of relief that would make him release onto his closed fists on his throbbing cock. Panting and just imagining you being the one fucking him with no worries or any problems . How obedient you would be if you followed all of his orders on how to take him or to even touch yourself. It’s a sight he one day with witness. A sight people would never get the chance to see. He would kill anyone before they get the chance to see your amorous body. It was only for HIM to see.
Ghost wanted much more of you but for now this was as much as he could get from you. He fights the urge to just barge into your room and take you all in like your HIS. He wishes you would just like him back and to let him show you how much he truly loves you. How he would treat you better than anyone ever will. How he would give and buy you anything as long as your happy and stay with him ONLY.
“I’ll do what it takes if it means we’ll be together forever my love”.
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nerdygaymormon · 2 years
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we get it, you're gay. why you gotta make it your whole personality
You have got to be kidding me with this!
First of all, this blog is about existing in this difficult space of being a queer Mormon, so yes, me being gay is gonna come up a lot.
Second, non-queer people talk about their gender identity and sexual orientation ALL THE TIME! It's so common it's like a fish who doesn't notice the water they swim in. You don't notice the heteronormativity in the world where you exist.
I'm here to provide the receipts.
—————————
Here's examples of cis straight people making it their whole personality:
I had a co-worker who would check out every "hot" woman who walked by his office window. His office was on one side of a corner of the building and mine on the other. He'd watch her walk from his office, then come to mine to keep watching. Creepy!
I cannot even guesstimate how many "I'd do her" comments I have heard
Everyone who's single talks about their dating life, who they're crushing on, and so on.
Married people and folks with children ALWAYS be mentioning this. "I can't stay, gotta pick my kids up from school." (If I was like the person who sent the anonymous ask, I'd respond with "I don't care what your reason is for leaving, why you insist on telling me about your heteronormative life?")
All the times I've heard someone say 'she and her husband are trying for kids.' She basically announced she & her husband are having lots of sex and no one bats an eye.
Have you ever watched commercials? They're full of messages about hetero sex and cis gender identity. Think about all the razors blades or body wash aimed at cis men: Mach3, Xtreme, Lawn Mower, Axe, Odor Armor. People complain about LGBTQ being forced down their throat when there happens to be a gay character on a TV show or included in a movie, but we live with their nonsense being shoved at us incessantly
Speaking of TV and movies, it doesn't matter the topic--dinosaurs have come to life, broken out of their cages, and are killing people, how can we stop them?--somehow they manage to fit in a man and a woman falling in love. Can't we have a show without all that hetero romance stuff that isn't central to the main storyline?
There is a secret code of what's acceptable for cis straight men and they are very worried about not following the code, which is why there's such a stigma around letting their son take a dance class or wear pink, and why most cis straight men are very uncomfortable about getting a massage from a man, or getting a pedicure, or any number of things. Those things are against the code and they don't want to be mistaken for anything other than a cis het man. They think about this a lot, it governs a lot of their decisions. It's pathetic.
Who is it that’s making their sexual orientation or gender identity their whole identity?
———————————————————————
People who say things like "don't make being gay your whole personality," really mean "please barely ever mention it," or "can you please just go back into the closet?" That's because they're the ones obsessively focused on it, they can't ignore any comment that indicates I'm queer.
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tiikerikani · 11 months
Text
Four walls
Because there's only... um... myself and Coworker who (still) have office-based work contracts, the company decided to move us into a smaller rental office space in February. We unpacked and worked there for a couple of weeks, until I got a large task which required me to check audio transcripts. I decided to do this from home so I didn't have to spend all day with headphones on. This took a few weeks, after which I went back in for 2 days before it simply became intolerable to sit in there and I've moved my stuff back home again on a semi-permanent basis.
There's 2 main reasons for this:
1. The room is too small for 2 people.
By "too small for 2 people" I don't necessarily mean like Finnish people personal space requirements.
Consider this exhibit of an actual prison cell at Vankila (the prison museum in Hämeenlinna, appropriately named The Prison). It was occupied by one inmate. 
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I lived my freshman year in a bedroom about this size, ok a bit wider but about this deep. More window and less security, though. Literally, because the door to my room was kind of broken so it'd lock, but you could open it with a firm shove.
The office space we have now does not feel much bigger than this. I want to say it's at most 8 sqm (86 sqft) but, as I haven't been in there for a few months, this is an estimate based on comparing my memory of it to the length of my bed (2 m). It's probably 2/5 the size of the old room, which had at most 4 people working in it and felt comfortable with 4 people working in it. (For example, there was enough room to put a small armchair in, though we never managed to make this happen. Or to stretch out on the floor without being underneath your desk.)
The new space is the kind of space you can imagine being rented by a sole trader who might get visits from clients (and it certainly seems that way from the windows I've peeped into), not for 2 full-time workers doing things that don't require collaboration or even interaction with each other. 
It's hard to articulate exactly what not having enough personal space feels like, but this is what not having enough personal space feels like.
2. My workload fluctuates unpredictably between long spells of idleness and shorter spurts of I need this done stat!!.
(Yes I'm being paid for this.)
Thus I have a lot of time that can be much better spent on chores or, really, anything else as long as I'm keeping an ear open for the inbox ping. If I spend that time at the office, anxious and restless (because not enough personal space), it's sand through my fingers.
Being in that room might be more tolerable if this were an alternative timeline where any of my hobbies were super portable, for example, knitting. In this timeline though, my fidgeting/stress outlets include working on my miniatures, piano, and dancing and singing along to #theplaylistismymantra, none of which are feasible in that space. (I have a portable painting kit but only one set of paints, and it's a bit of a walk to the nearest sink to clean things in. Boss is remote so it's not like anybody is policing me.)
My table at home has been reclaimed by my painting and modelling stuff, so my work is on the side and thus the ergonomics suck even more than during lockdown when I was busier and thus work was at the centre of the table.
But I will not be convinced to give up the office desk entirely; sometimes I do want to use an extra screen instead of peering at the laptop. Or even just to get a nice big lunch from the cafeteria. I think Coworker needs the office space more than I do, because he lives with other people and I'd understand wanting a place to work without being disturbed by them.
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mochikeiji · 3 years
Text
Enough For Me
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Request: "Congratulations on 1k!!! you deserve it, you’re a really good writer. Can i request prompt 12 “please don’t cry” angst to fluff with yuuta from jjk. thank you, congrats."
12. "please, don't cry."
↠ Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x Reader
↠ Warning: angst to fluff
↬ Word Count: 1.5k
↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event
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When did every thing become so loud?
One minute you were similing. Laughing loud with a hint of the obvious enjoyment masked on your features. Then second you're staring to nowhere but silence greeting you. An expression so dim that the light in your eyes wasn't present as well. Left at the forest training grounds, the others had already gone back to their dorms. You told them you were staying for a bit for extra training when in reality, you were looking for an outlet without anyone witnessing your hour of vulnerability.
Stupid clan and their elders. As disrespectful as it may sound, you understood now why Gojo despises them. Loud it was to the point it deafens your ears; the murmurs of a child cast away from the bloodline because of the mockery it holds. A no good sorcerer was never welcome in families like yours. People would still chew on your head even when you have your backs turned on them. So frustrating it was to shoulder a burden of their devilish gossip and expectations.
At first it was alright. You handled it well. But to the extent where one of the higher ups brought it up during a meeting? How many people know of you and the disappointment you carry?
Gojo had his fist clenched that day. Maki understood you more than anyone, having to be someone who ran away from her clan as well. Inumaki and Panda did their best in comforting you, telling you that humans are weird to drag other humans down when they're the same race. That was just being so entitled, said Panda. You however, convinced your comrades you were fine. You were used to it. And it was fine.
It didn't matter what other's say as long as other's knew you for what you weren't, right?
That doesn't mean you couldn't help but become overwhelmed of the impact they had on you. Like knives forcefully shoved their ways through your heart. The pack of negative energy should've been enough to form a large curse that could take you.
Loud it was indeed. To have so many people shit their way into your life when you only wanted to live yours and not bother theirs.
You gulped down the heavy lump in your throat. Caught up in the fog of profanities from the world. Who were you kidding, you weren't Maki who can handle all this thrown at her. Tumbling and falling, that was all you knew about yourself in your whole life. The nails that grip in your palms pierced through the skin as blood trickles down, no amount of pain could level the amount of pent up emotions you buried in your heart.
Perhaps you've were born in the wrong time and place. If only you were a simple civilian, maybe life wouldn't be so bad. A loving family would be there, instead of the ones that were throwing their unfulfilled dreams to their children and controlling of their destiny.
The look in your mother's eyes will forever haunt you. Looking already as tired as you were, her eyes spoke more emotion than you could ever endure as loveless, empty ones met your teary gaze that very day.
"I only wanted a daughter who could've done so much for me as I've given her life after birth."
Your heart throbs, soon you were down on the dirt covered ground on your knees. The weight of her words colliding in the world you swore was a safe space for you. It shouldn't matter. Not when they've cast you away and yet, no matter what there is, she was still your mother.
And still the pain is as fresh as ever coming from the one you used to call, "family."
As loud as your world was, your cries were louder and clearer this very night. As if with all your might, you wanted to scream from above on how this was truly unfair. Wanting someone— anyone to hear you curse at the world you were forced to live in. It hurts your lungs, it was indeed hard to grasp small bits of oxygen when your insides felt like they were shrinking from the compact.
You wish you could scream at your mother that deep inside you still loved her. Even as a child who never received the motherly love they deserved, you loved her dearly. It was by instincts and the remains of your vision as a baby, being held in someone arms in hushing your cries.
The surface felt so firm unlike you remembered how it was when you were young. Yet the warm embrace felt nostalgic as it shielded you from the cold blistering wind of the night, you find yourself searching against the surface without a care of any danger or anything anymore. You wanted to be comforted for once. To not feel alone.
"Please don't cry."
Small hushes drowned out your sobs, an arm wrapped firmly around your waist while the other pets your head at the outmost caring matter. Curling closer, your hand held the one on top of your head. Taking in the rough texture, but reminding yourself that someone was now here in your time of need. Here after being away most of the times.
"Yeah, it's me." sensing your troubles as he averts his gaze away from you as if he was embarrassed. "I heard what happened. I managed to finish up much just to get here." next to him was the blade he carries around. Probably less hazardous as to why he place it down.
"Yuta.." sobbing as you clutched on the white material he wore. He immediately reverts back to soothing you in your distressed state. Something about the way he holds you only made you tear up more. It broke his heart in pieces to see you hold onto him as if he was the only person left to anchor yourself. And here he thought he had it worse back then, your body language brought this resemblance to the girl he used to hold just as he was doing now.
"Shh, I promise you that none of those words said about you is true."
Easier said, he knew that. It was easy to reassure someone of their thoughts, but it's not that easy to erase. The mind is a wondrous and torturous place to be in. Old memories can be dug out to the surface and you'd still feel the emotion like it just happened yesterday. Oh if you had Yuta's vision of you, you'd believe in his words.
A strong role model like you is exactly the reason why Yuta aims to be the strongest as well. To help people realize that strength isn't found in the words of other human beings, but within yourself. Yes, it's a harsh world we live in. Those who feel lowly amongst themselves would drag those above them. And those who feel the surge of entitlement snarls at those below them.
But no matter who it is that doubts you, and your potentials, there would always be someone behind you, with the glimmer in their eyes, you are their hope and inspiration in some ways.
That is what Yuta murmurs next to your ear, your cries now subsided to focus on his voice. "You're doing great. We've seen it. I've seen it." facing you with his boyish smiles, you wondered how'd this guy who came looking like a ragged mess become someone twinkling brighter than the stars above the night sky. It was contagious, it made you smile so minimal.
"There's that pretty smile." chuckling, he pats your head softly like treating a little kid. Yuta knows deep down that he can't fully resolve the thoughts inside of you— one of these days you'll have these moments again. And it saddens him because he's often away from you. Yet he's breathless at the fact that you're able to hold yourself off with all these tormenting you.
"You're amazing, darling." came out lower than a whisper before his lips closed in with yours. Last time he kissed you boy was he sweating buckets. He wasn't even as bold as now to be able to initiate first and pull you flush against his chest. But the erratic pace of his heart still was the same as ever. The loudness that had clouded you vanished. All you could hear now were pleasant chorus played by the crickets of the night and the wind lacing together throughout the atmosphere.
He promises to do much more with you for the time being. Help you mend the wounds no one can see and assist with the battles you two could only share and understand. One day as he stated before he would walk through the doors of your clan and prove to them that you were the diamond in the rough they've thrown but he's found.
You were his own butterfly. Beautiful to his eyes, you bestowed your wings; and to yours you cannot see but for people to admire.
"Give yourself more credit. You've done so much, my love."
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© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^・^=)
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yesimwriting · 3 years
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Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?
 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol
also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 
also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 
--
They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.
But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.
The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.
You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.
I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.
"Oh, you're doing that thing."
I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"
"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."
I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."
"Clearly."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."
Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"
At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"
"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."
Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"
"That doesn't mea--"
"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"
"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.
Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.
I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.
It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.
The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.
"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."
"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"
"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."
Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."
"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"
Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."
"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"
"He just wanted to sell our cove--"
"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."
Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.
"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"
"I resent that--"
"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."
I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."
"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."
"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."
"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."
He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."
...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."
Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."
"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"
He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."
Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.
Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.
--
I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.
How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.
I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?
Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.
Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.
How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?
I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.
I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 
I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 
The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 
My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 
Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 
The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 
His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 
I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 
A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 
I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 
Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 
My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 
“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 
This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 
Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 
My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 
I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 
Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 
No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 
How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 
“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 
“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 
“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 
“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 
His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 
...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.
Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 
Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 
I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 
“You’re falling asleep.” 
I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 
“You’re impossible.” 
From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 
From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 
Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 
The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 
This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 
At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 
Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”
“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 
Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 
“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 
I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 
“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 
We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 
He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 
At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 
“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 
I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”
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rocorambles · 3 years
Text
Set My Heart Ablaze
Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader
Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Creepy Matsukawa, Obsessive Behavior, Public Train Sex
Prompt: Chikan/Trains/Public Sex
Summary: Neither of you can deny the mutual spark of interest between the two of you, but Matsukawa takes the matter of turning that spark into a fire into his own hands. Only time will tell if that fire will provide you warmth and comfort or burn you alive.
A/N: This is my submission for the HQHQ NSFW Collab! Masterlist can be found here. Be sure to check everyone’s content once the masterlist goes live tomorrow night~
The train doors open and Matsukawa briefly glances up, smiling to himself as you step onboard, looking left and right for an open spot despite how you always end up in the same corner of the moving vehicle. He doesn’t know anything about you, not even your name. Yet he finds himself drawn to the normalcy you bring, the comfort of knowing you’re a clockwork fixture of his everyday life.
It hadn’t always been like this.
Matsukawa is just a man at the end of the day and he doesn’t deny that he took note of you long before you became so ingrained in his life. But it had been no more than a man observing an attractive woman and he doesn’t give you another passing thought as he returns to gazing out the train windows.
But working with death on a daily basis makes you look at life differently.
He prides himself on being a practical and level-headed man and despite the heavy nature of his profession, he never thought he’d get too bogged down by the environment, by the grimness of his business. Sure, maybe someone like Oikawa would freak out within hours, if not minutes, of being in a funeral home surrounded by corpses and coffins. But he’s not Oikawa (thank God for that). It’s just a job to help keep a roof over his head and food on the table.
But the longer he’s surrounded by caskets, the more grieving and sobbing families and friends he has to comfort yet professionally guide through catalogs and brochures and price tags, he can slowly but surely feel the weight of his daily work resting heavy on his shoulders, digging deeper into him with every corpse and tragic story he reluctantly becomes privy to. Matsukawa finds a new appreciation for life, for every tiny and minute detail, and suddenly you aren’t just another stranger who happens to share his train route.
You’re a reminder that he’s still alive, that despite the curveballs life throws at some, he’s still blessed to enjoy the routine and monotony of it. Life looks different, clearer, as he begins to really pay attention, appreciating every moment he has.
Maybe he’s paying too much attention. He doesn’t know when he begins to focus so intently on you, shocking himself with the realization that he’s observed you so closely when he nonchalantly notices that you’re using a different tote bag than your usual one. When did Matsukawa Issei become someone who notices the details of a woman’s outfit and accessories?
He knows it’s not right, knows even Hanamaki would crinkle his nose in distaste if he found out Matsukawa was creepily studying a random unknown female on a daily basis. But he can’t help himself, his realization only seeming to make him unconsciously focus on you even more. He notices what hand you use to hold your phone. He memorizes every expression you make as your mind drifts off, lulled by the machinery of the train.
But looking from afar only satisfies him for so long and he finds himself creeping closer to you, adjusting where he sits to be closer to your preferred corner of the train. He always tells himself just a little closer, but it’s never enough. And although he’s now standing right beside you, close enough to see every eyelash, every pore of your skin, it’s still not enough. He needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his, know everything about you inside and out.
He understands the irony of the situation he’s found himself in, reminiscing on how Hanamaki and him had gagged at how disgusting men could be as they watched older businessmen grope and grab at poor unwilling female passengers on their way to and from school. He knows how wrong it is, how like an uninspired porno this is, but when the train conveniently rattles, he jostles his body into yours, “accidentally” bumping into you.
Acting isn’t Matsukawa’s forte, but he thinks he damn well deserves an award for the performance he’s putting on as he profusely apologizes to you, hiding the groan of satisfaction he feels from the brief contact he’d had with you, from the way your attention is solely focused on him, from the way your voice seeps into his ears like the loveliest melody he’s ever heard. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, meaningless small and polite talk leaving his lips as his mind focuses on what’s more important, mentally recording every syllable and movement you make as you continue conversing with him. But whatever words are spilling out of him seem to be working and something hungry and possessive stirs in him when your face lights up as you board the train the next day, making a beeline towards where he stands as you cheerfully greet him.
Maybe it’s foolish of you to so easily trust and warm up to a complete stranger. But he’s tall, attractive, and interesting, which is more than you can say for most of the men you’ve met and your friends and family are always telling you to put yourself out there more. Is there really much of a difference between finding a random stranger on the countless dating apps you’ve installed versus connecting with one in person? You’d even argue that there’s something whimsically romantic about how the two of you met, even though you don’t know for sure if this is really going to lead to anything. But at the very least, your daily commute becomes more exciting.
You’re everything and more compared to what Matsukawa had imagined and if he thought he was infatuated with you before, he’s completely and utterly obsessed with you now. You’re all he can think of, all he can see in his mind’s eye, even hours after you’ve parted ways on your morning commute, even as he lays in bed in the middle of the night. And as his hand slips underneath the hem of his boxers, wrapping around his aching cock to his imaginations of what you’d look like writhing underneath him, how you’d sound moaning his name, he knows he needs to have you.
After all, as pretty as a meal can be, it’s ultimate purpose is to be devoured.
You giggle when the train shakes and you feel a long toned body shift into yours, squishing you against the wall you’re leaning against, sighing in bliss at how right, how good it feels to be in Matsukawa’s embrace even if it is just for a fleeting moment, a little accident all too common on jam packed trains. But your face heats when you continue feeling his warmth, when his body seems to press even further into you until you can feel the expanse of his body against yours, not even an inch of space left between you.
“Matsukawa-”
Your words are caught off by a gasp as Matsukawa buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, lips and tongue mouthing and licking the sensitive skin there. You’re confused, scared, and aroused, hands reaching up to clutch at the lapels of Matsukawa’s suit, unsure whether to hold him tight to you or push him away. And your humiliation only increases when a nearby elderly couple scowls at the two of you in disdain, clearly unamused by the scandalous gestures of what they believe to be a young couple in love.
Yet you can’t help how your heart beats faster, wondering if this is proof of Matsukawa’s attraction to you, wondering if your hidden feelings for him are returned. But this isn’t the time or place for that conversation and you fervently whisper in his ear, begging him to stop, telling him people are watching.
“Is that the only reason you want me to stop? Because people are watching?”
You grow flustered at the implied meaning of his words, shame filling you at how much you’re enjoying this, hating how your neck arches for more attention as he straightens up once more, his body hiding yours from view as he stands in front of you, still pinning you to the wall.
“Better be as still and quiet as you can, sweetheart.”
You don’t have time to register his words before your mouth opens in a pathetic whine as a calloused hand trails under the hem of your shirt, sliding across the stretch of your stomach, mapping your torso before finally shoving your bra above the swell of your breasts, kneading one of your mounds, tweaking and swirling around your hardening nipple. It feels so good and you almost succumb right then and there, lost in the predatory lustful gaze he pins you with.
But when the train makes its next stop, the conductor’s voice jars you from your trance and you clutch at Matsukawa’s forearm, silently pleading for him to stop with desperate eyes despite the way you quietly mewl when he just quirks an eyebrow and pinches your nipple in retaliation.
“We can’t- We shouldn’t-”
Your hand trembles, jaw going slack when he slides one thigh between your legs, digging his hard muscles into that already dripping hole only protected by the fabric of your pants.
“You’re not very convincing. How about we play a game? If you can tell me you don’t want this without moaning like a bitch in heat, I’ll stop.”
There’s no room for disagreement as he abruptly begins grinding his thigh into your aching cunt, flexing and relaxing his muscle in a pattern and rhythm you can’t keep up with. It takes every last bit of will power in you to not wantonly ride his leg and hump against him like the lewd slut he had just accused you of being.
“I don’t want-”
You cry out in agonized pleasure as his fingers still hovering near your breasts begin to roll your nipples between calloused tips, his thigh never losing its momentum. And under the dual points of attack, your resistance crumbles. Matsukawa’s eyes widen in awe as you bounce and roll your hips against his leg, hiding your face in his chest as you try to muffle the lewd sounds slipping past your lips in the fabric of his jacket.
You’re gorgeous like this, a needy, lustful mess. But as much as he loves to see you suffer so beautifully, there’s only so much time before your stop and he decides to have mercy on you, to reward you for being so honest, so good for him. Your face snaps up to stare at him with pupils blown wide as his hand reaches underneath the waistband of your pants and panties. He groans when his fingers are instantly soaked in your arousal, your panties sticky with your fluids and his digits slip inside of your tight wet heat with no resistance at all.
He wants nothing more than to push the pesky fabric out of the way and lay you bare for his viewing pleasure, to have easy access to thrust in and out of you. But he’ll save that for another day. Instead his fingers slip out of you, tips circling your swollen clit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves as you resume humping his leg, body trembling, drool beginning to trickle from your lips as you frantically chase your end. And as the train stops once more, passengers trickling in and out, you silently scream, body convulsing as he brings you over the edge, pleasure washing over you and leaving you exhausted as you shiver and slump in his arms that are quick to embrace you and hold you steady as the train begins to move again.
You submissively let his fingers coated in your essence enter your mouth, obediently sucking and licking him clean, finding strange comfort in the action as you remain rested against him. But you keen in confusion, cheeks still hollowed as you mindlessly continue sucking while he guides one of your hands to the bulge in his pants.
But although Matsukawa is a man of few words, his desire is clear despite the silence and your face heats in embarrassment as he unbuttons his trousers, bringing your hand to the waistband of his boxers, dark eyes expectantly staring down at you. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Not when you can literally hear the other passengers surrounding the two of you, only Matsukawa’s tall frame hiding your illicit activity. But your body has a mind of its own and you greedily slip under the fabric barrier, moaning around his fingers at how large, hot, and heavy he is in your hands.
You hate how badly you want to see it, to feel it inside you, splitting you apart. Your pussy clenches, leaking in interest once again despite having just found blissful release mere minutes ago as your hands curiously trail up and down the shaft, trying to memorize how every bit of it feels against your skin, trying to visualize what it looks like. But you whimper as Matsukawa finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, squeezing your jaw and giving you a warning look.
“Don’t tease me, doll.”
Your fingers wrap around the length and it’s your turn to stare up at Matsukawa with eyes full of hunger and awe as you watch his Adam’s apple swallow, as you feel a pleased groan reverberate in his chest with every stroke of your hand. Up and down. Up and down. Your hands are slick with pre-cum and you know it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear the lewd wet sounds of his sticky essence coating his shaft with every movement of your palm against the velvety skin. You’re so mesmerized, so lost in the experience that you startle when something hot and thick spurts onto your hand, mixing with his pre-cum, making an even bigger mess of his boxers and you.
You stare stunned at the hand you pull out from between his legs, gazing at the white and transparent fluids that coat your flesh. But before you can even think about wiping it off or scavenging around for a spare napkin or paper in your bag, a large hand grabs your wrist and brings your stained fingers to your mouth. You try to resist him, the spell he had you under broken now that the haze of lust isn’t blinding you. But his grip tightens until you wince and finally relent, stomach churning in disgust and shame as you tentatively lick at the bitter liquid.
He doesn’t release you, not until every last drop is coating the inside of your mouth, his taste heavy in your mouth, seemingly in every crevice of your orifice, your hand completely clean and void of your sinful interaction.
You want to hate him. You want to wipe the smug satisfied look clean off his face. But as you readjust your disheveled clothing, you’re reminded of your own body’s betrayal, your own carnal desire and pleasure, by the uncomfortable mess in between your legs. And all you can do is silently stand there and pretend that nothing has happened as Matsukawa nonchalantly tucks himself in and checks his phone.
There’s an uncomfortable silence as you wait for him to acknowledge what has just happened, only to be disappointed as he doesn’t even spare you another glance, too observed in the glowing screen in his hand. You wonder if this was just a one time thing, if he had been stringing you along all this time for one quick public tryst. And you hate the way that thought makes your chest hurt, hate how much you dislike the idea of never seeing him again, never talking to him again, never feeling and tasting him again.
But as the train pulls into his stop, your eyes widen when his face hovers by your ear, lips grazing your lobe as his voice melts into your soul.
“Wear a dress or skirt tomorrow. No panties or bra.”
He laughs as surprise turns into an endearing scowl that barely hides the apparent relief in your eyes and he just casually waves farewell as you send him on his way with a tirade of angry words about his fucking audacity. But it’s all empty heat and he chuckles at the self-conscious embarrassment written all over your face when he sees you the next morning, a pretty dress fluttering around your knees.
There’s no preamble, no pretense of what’s about to happen and he smirks in appreciation at the unobstructed feeling of skin against skin as he slips his hand under your skirt, not an inch of fabric covering the treasure at the apex of your thighs.
516 notes · View notes
vampiregirl1797 · 3 years
Text
The Starlight Stone
Tumblr media
GIF not mine.
Rhysand x Reader
Word Count: 4,898
Summary: Y/N comes from a different reality, where the characters and world she’s now living in, exist in a series of books. Rhysand takes her in, and she learns how to do something she’s never managed before… live.
Warnings: Can’t think of any? If I’ve missed anything, let me know.
Masterlist Here :)
Falling in love with new characters was as easy as breathing for me. In fact it was so easy, that before I realised it, I was only falling for them. Reading became an escape for me, a teenage girl without a shred of self-confidence, used to being the overlooked one in a group of friends, used to not attracting any kind of male attention. It was perfect, because the men I fell in love with always loved me back, never hurt me with the crushing pain of rejection, never thought I wasn’t pretty enough, or skinny enough. They loved me for me.  
I just never imagined I’d wake up in one of the fictional world’s I’d read about, and come face to face with the High Lord I’d most recently falling for. I’d arrived several months ago, and of course hadn’t been able to keep a thing from the High Lord of the Night Court who’d found me trespassing on his lands. He’d gone into my head, not too far, but far enough to assess whether I was a threat to him or his people. He discovered pretty quickly that I had absolutely no skill set to be a threat, and that I absolutely was not from his world.  
He’d found the concept of Prynthian being presented in a series of books both interesting and amusing, as well as him and his friends existing as characters within the novels. I was just glad he hadn’t gone far enough to find how invested I got in each of the books I read, and those who existed within them, him being one of those people. It would have been mortifying and I had wondered on more than one occasion what his reaction would be. But coming face to face with a man who had been fictional to me, and then become real overnight… it had thrown me into my insecurities. Into taking my feelings for the High Lord and shoving them down as far as I could.  
‘Y/N?’ I was snapped out of my thoughts by Cassian popping his head into my room. Rhys had offered me a room at his town house when I first got here, and I’d never left. He’d offered the money to buy my own place, but I hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of that at the time, and now I had a place on his court, along with a wage of my own, but this had become my home.  
‘Hey Cass, what’s up?’ I smiled, patting the empty space beside me on the enormous bed; in my world I’d never had bigger than a single, and this was about three singles put together.  
‘Not much, I was gonna go into town for a little while, do you want to come with?’ His hazel eyes studied me with warmth and kindness, which was probably what had made me comfortable around him so quickly. He’d never looked at me with the disinterest I was used to being on the receiving end of from men; he saw me as a person and I appreciated him for it.
‘Sure. Anything in particular you’re after?’ I wondered letting my hair down from the messy bun I’d pulled it up onto when I’d come to relax in my room.  
He shrugged, trying and failing to be nonchalant, ‘not really. Just felt like getting out.’
I sighed, shuffling to the edge of the bed to slip on my boots, ‘Rhys sent you to check up on me didn’t he? Let me guess, he thinks I’m becoming a depressed recluse?’  
Cass gave me a look that was a mixture of concern and exasperation, ‘Rhys worries about you because you never leave the house. He doesn’t think you’re depressed, but he worries you’re not living either. You lose yourself in books, and you barely speak to anyone, even me.’  
I turned away, pretending to busy myself with lacing up my shoes to hide the tear that slid down my cheek. Rhys was more observant than I gave him credit for. The truth was, since I’d gotten here, I’d basically been living the same as I had before; reading, sleeping, eating and more reading. I ate meals with everyone sometimes, but more often than not, I allowed the new fictional worlds offered to me here to consume me. I’d never been called out on it before. No one had ever cared enough to notice that I wasn’t just reading because I loved it, I was reading to escape the life I didn’t know how to live.  
‘I-I’ I stuttered, forcing myself to stop and take a breath.
‘Hey,’ Cassian’s voice softened and he shuffled beside me on the bed to sling a muscular arm over my shoulder. My head went to his chest, not even trying to hold back my tears anymore, it seemed pointless when he could probably scent them anyway, ‘I didn’t say this to upset you, just to let you know that you’re family to us now, Y/N, and we care about you. We want you to live and enjoy life, not to fall solely in love with fictional places.’  
‘This place was just a fictional place to me once.’ I murmured quietly.
‘And now you get to be here, and still choose to read yourself to death.’ He teased, chuckling softly.  
I smiled, wiping away the moisture from my cheeks, because he was right. Rhys was right. I had been blessed with the opportunity to live in a reality I’d once yearned for with all my heart, and I’d been wasting it. Why? Because I was afraid to face the feelings I had for a certain High Lord, feelings that had only blossomed since coming here, despite my best efforts to avoid him. I’d been throwing myself into reading because I wanted to live in the fantasy that he would return my feelings for a little longer. But that had to stop. I wasn’t immortal here—at least I didn’t think so, I didn’t have Fae characteristics and I didn’t have any powers—and it was time to stop squandering my life being a scaredy cat.  
‘You’re right. Rhys is right.’ I moved away from Cassian’s chest, wiping all evidence of my tears away, ‘lets go into Velaris. I’ve always wanted to stroll through the City and take everything in. It looks so beautiful from up here.’  
Cassian grinned, and allowed me to pull him from the bed, and just like that we left the town house and were swallowed by the life of Velaris.  
Six Months Later
‘I don’t think so.’ I shook my head, levelling the Shadowsinger with a no-nonsense glare, ‘it’s the Winter Solstice, which is the first one I’m spending here, it’s basically Christmas, and it’s a family holiday. You’re not flying off to wherever the heck you’re planning to go, with only your shadows for company.’  
His hazel eyes were blank but he visibly stiffened. I sighed, realising that telling Azriel what he could and couldn’t do was not my place, and it definitely wasn’t the best approach.  
‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to act like I’m your keeper or anything.’ I stood from the couch where I’d been sitting, to move to where he stood in front of the fire. I placed a hand on his shoulder, and relaxed a little when he didn’t shrug me off, ‘it’s just… this means something to me. Back in my old reality, we had Christmas, which was something similar. We’d all gather, exchange presents, decorate a tree, hang decorations… but what made it special to me was the time spent with the people I loved. With the people I considered family. You’re my family now, Azriel. You, Cass, Ameren, Mor… and Rhys. Obviously it’s your choice, but if you could afford to, please don’t leave until after the holiday.’  
I thought his eyes had softened at my words, but honestly it was hard to tell with the Shadowsinger. I left him alone to think over my words, kissing his cheek as I made my way outside; I still had some things left to buy for everyone. I’d gone a little overboard, but I couldn’t help it. I’d pretty much finished Mor and Ameren, I had a few last things to pick up for Cassian and Azriel, and the majority I’d left to buy were for Rhys. I already knew what I was going to get him, and most were already purchased and wrapped at each store, I’d just waited until now to get them, because while Rhys was trusted with everyone else’s presents… well giving him his own gifts just didn’t seem right. It might just have been me, but I felt like it took away the surprise, at least a little bit.  
I smiled as I walked through the city, nodding in greeting to a few friendly people. Since that talk Cassian had with me six months ago, I’d started venturing out of the townhouse more and more. I still read, but it was for the fun of it now, rather than the escape from reality. I’d fallen in love with Velaris. The city was beautiful, and teeming with life and acceptance and peace… seeing it first hand really made me appreciate the efforts Rhys and everyone had gone through to protect this place, to make it a home.  
‘Hey girl!’ Ameren’s voice had me looking to my right, to see her running across the cobblestone street to catch up to me, ‘you wouldn’t be out to purchase my Winter Solstice presents now would you?’ she grinned, her silver eyes sparkling with more life than usual.
I playfully rolled my eyes, ‘even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you. Your otherworld intimidation doesn’t work on me, Ren.’  
She huffed, but I could see the amusement swirling in her silver irises, ‘fine. It amazes me sometimes though,’ she mused, going on to explain, ‘Cassian cracked like an egg in two seconds, told me what he’d got me straight away. But you’re immune to what makes me scary to people around here.’  
I chuckled, being able to picture Cassian folding perfectly, ‘I wouldn’t say I’m the only one. And Cassian doesn’t prove anything, he’s like a big kid with this stuff. I’ve had to actually shush him to keep him from telling me about my presents, I think the excitement just gets to him. Now if you told me you’d broken Azriel, I’d be impressed.’  
She huffed a laugh and tilted her head in acknowledgement of my words, ‘yeah, you might be right. He didn’t only tell me what he’d gotten me, he told me about everyone else’s too.’  
I rolled my eyes affectionately, ‘that boy.’  
‘Indeed.’ She shook her head, but when she met my eyes again the wicked glint in them made me brace myself slightly, ‘so what are you getting our High Lord?’  
‘I’m on my way to pick up Rhys’ presents now. You can come with me if you want, so long as you don’t spoil anything.’ I gave her a pointed look and grinned at her offended look.  
‘I’m not the gossip Cassian is, thank you very much, girl,’ she waved her hand dismissively, ‘anyway, I was just wondering if you were finally going to gift him with the truth.’
‘Who?’ I frowned, pulling open the door to the blacksmith’s—I’d requested a few specific weapons for Azriel, Cassian and Rhys, each custom made and fit to them specifically, ‘what truth?’
She opened her mouth to reply, but was had to wait until the blacksmith had handed over the three weapons he’d perfectly made for me. Azriel and Cassian had plenty of swords and knives and daggers, but their abundance in bows and arrows was clear. I’d seen them practice with the same one, and I doubted they had any specific for battle, which seemed a waste when they could both fly. So I’d asked the blacksmith to create some custom for them, and both now had their own bow, plenty of arrows and a quiver. Their names were engraved inside the buttery leather of their quivers, and each were made to be lightweight and able to be worn whilst flying without losing any arrows.
For Rhys I’d asked for a pair of daggers to be crafted. I’d seen him with a couple of swords, and I was sure he already had daggers too, but picking this particular weapon had just felt right, even if I knew it was likely he possessed some already. Each was pure silver, one held an amethyst stone at the hilt, while the other held an onyx stone. One for his eyes, the other for his court.  
It was when we exited the shop that Ameren decided to resume her train of thought that I’d almost forgotten about, ‘the truth that you are in love with Rhys.’
It took a lot of effort not to stumble from shock, ‘what?’
‘Don’t play dumb. It’s obvious. Has been for months,’ she smirked, ‘we have bets on when you’re going to tell him. I have over the Solstice, so if you could do a girl a favour and tell him already, the winnings will be mine.’
‘Not to put a damper on your betting habits,’ I pulled her hand towards another shop I needed to go into, ‘but I’ve not got any “truth” to reveal to Rhys.’  
She swore under her breath, ‘I knew I should have had spring, but there’s me being the optimist thinking you would have grown some balls and realised what we’ve all already seen by now.’
I frowned, ‘what the hell are you talking about Ameren?’
‘Rhys loves you just as much as you love him. Actually knowing him, he probably loves you even more, but he’s as much of a coward as you.’ She rolled her eyes, tucking her onyx hair behind her ear as I accepted another bag full of pre-wrapped presents for Rhys.
‘You can’t be serious.’ I didn’t know what else to say… the idea of him feeling a fraction of the love I had for him made my heart pound in my chest. I couldn’t fathom it.
‘Honestly, you’re both blind.’ She shook her head, but let the subject drop, and I was glad. Talking any more might have launched me into a full-blown panic attack.
I’d admitted to myself that fallen in love with the High Lord three months ago—for a long time I’d fought it, convincing myself I was just in love with the fictional version of him. But that theory had gone down the toilet when he’d laughed—really laughed—at a joke Cassian made, and I’d been powerless to stop myself from being overwhelmed with happiness at his happiness. It was then I accepted I was an idiot in love with a man I’d never have. But Ameren saying he did feel the same, well it made me panic because I’d never considered it a possibility before—I’d never had a man interested in me before, and the idea of it, the unfamiliarity, made me panic. So I forced it down and made myself focus on collecting the rest of my gifts.  
//
The morning of Winter Solstice saw me rising bright and early, eager as a kid on Christmas morning. I realised that we wouldn’t be exchanging presents until the evening, after we’d all eaten, but I couldn’t tamper my excitement. So after I’d showered and dressed in leggings and a white woolly jumper, I headed to the living room to put the finishing touches on the decorations. Everything was basically done, but Rhys had found an eight-foot pine tree; I’d been telling him about the traditions of Christmas in my old reality, and he’d surprised me yesterday with a real tree. I’d hugged him tightly for it, unable to hold back my tears of gratitude at his thoughtfulness, and declared we’d have to decorate it tomorrow, after it had time to settle in the room overnight. A part of me wondered if he’d remember, but my doubt floated away upon the sight of him standing in the living room, observing the tree like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. The thought made me chuckle, and he looked up to me with a smile.  
‘Good morning.’ I murmured, coming over to join him, ‘is there a reason you seem to be sizing up this poor, defenceless tree?’  
He grinned, his violet eyes sparkling with mirth, ‘well, other than the fact that it’s bigger than me and has an unfair advantage size-wise,’ I missed his soft smile as I laughed again, ‘I was simply wondering exactly how we’re going to decorate it.’
I softened with understanding, ‘well, lucky for you, I’m ridiculously prepared.’ I moved to pull out the box I’d stored behind the tree last night, after retrieving it from one of the shops in the art district. Magic was such a blessing here, and after I’d explained what I’d needed, and demonstrated with some awful drawings, they’d had everything made within a few hours. I pulled a few ornaments out, marvelling at the craftsmen’s ship for a moment before hanging them on the tree; there was a mixture of circular shapes and stars, in amethyst, silver, blue and black. They’d also crafted a silver star to go on top of the tree, fashioned after the star that always shone the brightest in the night sky of Velaris on the first night of Winter Solstice. It was so well made, I’d been struck speechless by how realistic it looked; as if they had plucked the star straight from the sky.  
I nudged the box closer to Rhys with my foot, ‘just hang them however you want, like this.’ I gestured to the few I’d put on and smiled when he reached in and immediately followed instructions.  
‘You know, if I used my magic I could have this done in under a minute.’ He commented, looking at me from the corner of his eye as if he knew my reaction before I voiced it.
‘Absolutely not! Decorating by hand is part of the fun, and the tradition.’ I protested, flicking his shoulder when I noticed his smirk, ‘if you use a flicker of magic, then there will be no presents for you.’
I frowned at the look of surprise in his eyes and he must have noticed my confusion because he said, his voice soft, ‘I didn’t think you’d gotten me anything. I didn’t mind, of course, I’m just surprised.’  
‘Why would you think that?’ I turned to face him fully, ignoring the task of decorating for the moment.
‘Because you didn’t give them to me to hide.’ He shrugged, carefully placing another ornament onto the tree, ‘and I never expect gifts, from anyone regardless. I went a long time being consumed by disappointment after my mother and sister died, because my father never cared for the holiday before. But after their deaths, it bore a reminder of another year of them being gone. Then he and I enacted our revenge, and it was a while before Morrigan, Cassian and I were able to spend the Solstice together.’  
I pulled him into a hug, winding my arms around his neck and not flinching at the appearance of his wings. They didn’t often appear without purpose unless he was feeling a strong emotion, but I didn’t question it when they cocooned us, his warmth radiating all around me.  
‘I didn’t give you any to hide because I felt like it took away from the surprise of the holiday if I was asking you to keep your own presents.’ I murmured into his neck, missing the small shiver that passed through him, ‘I’m sorry, that you had to spend so many Solstice’s alone, Rhys. But you have a family now, one that would sooner die than leave you.’
He held me a little tighter, and I returned the gesture, burrowing further into his neck and wondering if I was imagining the increased heartbeat I could feel against my chest, or if I were perhaps mistaking it for my own.
//
I smiled from my seat in the armchair, enjoying the warmth emanating from the fire, and from the mug of hot chocolate I held in my hands. We had just had Winter Solstice dinner, and were taking it in turns to open our presents.  
Ameren had gone first, and was grinning so wide it was almost scary at all of the jewels everyone had bought for her. Cassian had mostly been gifted weapons from everyone but Mor and me—she’d given him a sweater in the brightest green I’d ever seen, and I’d also gifted him some of his favourite liquor, a box of chocolates that Rhys had mentioned his mother got the General every year for solstice, some new books on war strategy, a new set of Illyrian leathers, and the bow and arrows I’d gotten him.
Azriel had also gained an abundance of weapons, along with a startlingly bright pair of purple socks from Mor, and some of his favourite liquor, a series of books on adventure and war I had a feeling he would enjoy, and a new set of Illyrian leathers and his new bow and arrows, from me. Mor had been given high quality clothing from everyone, and some of her favourite chocolates, wine, bath foams and salts from me. Rhys had been given a set of old leather bound books from Ameren, a Hawaiian themed shirt from Mor—mother knew where she found that—, what looked like a six-pack of beer from Cassian that had Rhys shaking his head with a reluctant smile, and a new set of Illyrian leathers from Azriel. I’d given him his new set of daggers, some of the chocolates Cassian had mentioned his mother and sister gifted him every Solstice, a painting that captured the beauty of Velaris perfectly, and something else I hadn’t yet presented to him.  
I’d actually left the other gift in his room, on his pillow; it was a pendant that had caught my eye when I was buying Ameren’s Solstice gifts. The shop attendant had noticed my stare and pulled it out from beneath the glass—it wasn’t overly huge; about the size of a bottle cap. It was antique silver, with a stone at the centre that was so beautiful I’d been unable to look away from it. It reminded me of the night sky, to put it plainly. It was so blue I thought it was sapphire, but the flashes of pure light that I saw when I turned it reminded me of shooting stars. The attendant had explained it was a pendant often presented to a perspective partner as a way of showing your intentions—as a way of showing your love for them. It was often the step before the mating bond sparked, to acknowledge what you already felt for them. She mentioned that it was an out dated tradition, and many only bought the Starlight stone now purely because it was beautiful.  
I didn’t know what possessed me to buy it. Maybe it was the possibility that he wouldn’t even know what it meant, maybe it was because a part of me wanted to tell him, and this was the only way I could muster the courage to do it. Either way, I’d left the small wrapped present on his black silk pillow before I’d joined the party tonight. And I’d had knots in my stomach about it since. A part of me wanted to excuse myself and take it back, but I forced that anxious part of my brain to shut up, because as much as it terrified me… I had to tell Rhys how I felt somehow, even if it meant that he didn’t feel the same way.
//
After the events of the evening, I decided to have a bath before I went to bed; Cassian and Azriel had passed out in the living room, one on the floor, the other on the sofa, but both were snoring loudly. Mor had made it to her room on the first floor, and Ameren had returned to her apartment. Rhys had said something about flying over the city before he turned in, and I was too awake with nerves to just slip straight into bed. So I ran some warm water into the gigantic tub that looked as if it would overflow onto the mountain below, and added some of my favourite bath foams that scented of lavender and honey—a gift from Az. I forced myself to breathe and just not think, and when my eyes started to droop I climbed out of the cooling water to dry off. I changed into the new silk gown Mor had gifted me for Solstice, and entered my bedroom only to stop short.  
My heart stopped at the sight of Rhys sitting on the edge of my bed… and then picked up triple speed. He was wearing loose pyjama pants, and no shirt… and he was holding the gift box I’d left on his pillow. The lid was missing and he was staring at the pendant inside. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest to hide how my hands shook.
‘Hey.’ I bit my lip, unsure about what to do. Should I sit next to him? Stay standing in front of the fire about three feet away from him? Ask him if he liked the gift? Ask him if he knew what it meant?  
His violet eyes lifted to meet mine, and I felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me at the guarded look in them, ‘do you know what this stone means?’ he asked, his voice quiet as he carefully held up the box, as if its contents were precious to him, ‘are you aware of the tradition that exists in Velaris? About what it means when someone presents this stone to another person?’
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding even faster now, and I was pretty sure I was starting to sweat. I wished I could read him better, wished I could know if he was hoping I knew, or hoping I didn’t. But he was a master of hiding his emotions, so I decided to go with the truth.
‘Yes, I know what it means.’ I admitted quietly, and knew if he didn’t have advanced hearing he wouldn’t have been able to make out the words; I could barely hear myself say them.
‘No, tell me. Tell me why you gave this to me.’ His eyes were still guarded, but his voice held a tinge of desperation, a tone I couldn’t resist from him.
‘I gave you that stone because the attendant at the jewellery store told me that the Starlight stone is what you give to a perspective partner, to acknowledge what you already feel for them, before the mating bond has sparked.’ I could feel the wariness on my face as he stood from the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of me.  
He tilted my chin up to meet his eyes with his index finger and whispered, ‘and what is it you feel for me, Y/N?’
‘I love you Rhys.’ I admitted softly, missing the way his eyes softened as my gaze fell to his lips.
His hand caressed my cheek, his thumb moving back and forth across my cheekbone. I was powerless to stop myself melting into his touch, and felt my eyes sheen with tears when I saw the affectionate look in his eyes. I watched as the dark mist of his magic swirled around the pendant, and lifted it from the box to secure it around his neck. My hand went to rest against his chest, where the pendant lay against his skin.
‘I love you too, Y/N darling.’ He murmured, wiping away the tears that fell silently down my cheeks.  
I vaguely heard the gift box fall to the floor, his free hand now landing on my hip and pulling me flush against his body. My arms wound around his neck, my fingers going to his silky soft hair as his mouth covered mine.
//
One Year Later
‘I’m just saying, Cassian is a great name for a tiny warrior.’ Cass grinned from the sofa, across from where Rhys and I sat in the love seat he’d bought for us about a year ago.  
‘Absolutely not.’ Rhys drawled, his hand gently moving back and forth across my swollen belly.
‘Do you have names picked out?’ Mor asked, her face holding the beaming expression that was always present when we were talking about the baby.
‘We do,’ I murmured, Rhys and I shared a secret smile at Mor’s squeal of excitement.  
‘We’re not revealing anything until the baby is born.’ Rhys grinned at the sounds of disapproval from his cousin and Cassian.  
‘You’re boring.’ The war General grumbled.
We all chuckled at his childish behaviour and I felt my expression soften with affection when Rhys leaned over to kiss my baby bump, murmuring words about how his uncle Cassian would always be the biggest baby in the family. Cassian grumbled louder, much to our amusement. My hand fell to Rhys hair, idly playing with the strands. He kissed my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of contentment that washed over me.  
Home. This was home.
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closhelby · 3 years
Text
On and off - Thomas Shelby smut
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Warnings: swearing & smut
Word count: 2.1K
AN: please give any feedback on smut and what you want to see next? Tried a different writing style...
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he seemed to be the ex that you couldn’t get over. You couldn’t escape him as hard as you tried, so why were you surprised when he showed up on your doorstep, soaked from the lashing rain that was falling outside at two am.
“You said we were over,” you muttered as you rubbed your sleepy eyes. You were actually awake, feeling sorry for yourself because of how different you wanted your life to be. Somehow you still wanted your relationship to work, despite how much he continued to push you away. You were too good for him, too proper for him, and most of all, you were too nice for him.
These were just assumptions. No one had rarely seen you get wound up, never seen you break or pushed you to that point, because no one needed to. But it was certainly brewing.
“I just wanted to see you,” he slurred.
You sighed, “Ex’s shouldn’t want to see each other though Tommy.”
He pushed the door open slightly, suggesting he came in, and you let him. Gave in to him again. I mean, how couldn’t you?
“Y/n, I don’t want you to be upset.”
“Tommy, if you’ve came here to say the same thing I’ve already heard, then politely fuck off,” you were starting to get annoyed at the assumption you were too nice, because you weren’t. You just gave off that impression. You gave everyone their first chance, as you believed they should, but depending on that, you would give your side. You were caring, but wouldn’t dare to be crossed.
“I’ll always love you, bu-“
“But, I’m too nice. I couldn’t deal mentally with what you do. How you make your money. Well Tommy, you’ve got me very wrong. But that’s your choice, now please” You spoke quickly, “get out of my fucking house.”
You could see the defeat in his face. He meant well, but he was pushing it and you were coming close to breaking point at being nice anymore. He left quickly after that, muttered a bye then disappeared in the horrific night.
The next morning you were awoken with loud bangs coming from your front door. Sighing as you walked towards it, “Tommy, how many times have i to te- oh hi Ada.”
Ada pushed her and baby Karl straight past you, “get ready. It’s happening today, and I’ve got a point to make.”
“Bloody hell Ada. Some context.”
“Billy Kimber.”
“Funeral attire by the looks of it then.” You snorted, and Ada laughed, “yes, the point we are making.” following her into the bedroom.
“Understood,” you agreed, then making an effort to dress solely in black, just exactly how you would if it was their funeral. You and Ada had in fact been friends for a while, you were in Johns year at school and had gotten close to him therefor you were always at the Shelby household. No one expected that yourself and Mr Thomas Shelby would ever become anything, but circumstances change before the war. He promised the world to you in his letters. Always telling you that you both would be married and have children on his return, but deep down you knew that the war changed that outcome and his outlook on life in general.
You had barely gotten time to think before Ada had you storming up the road, in the distance up the empty street you could see a group of men. You and Ada split off as you reached them, both pushing through the men who you assumed were Billy Kimber’s.
“Ada,” Freddie seethed.
“Y/n, what the fuck are you woman doing,” Tommy shouted.
Ada continued to scream, rambling on about people having family’s at home. How they are all worried, and would be attending their funeral. But of course, Billy likes to mock, and made a fly away comment. You were stood at an angle to Billy’s men, so the gun that was in your hand was out of their sight, slightly tucked under your skirt.
Danny Wizz-bang had already lunged towards Billy on the back of his comment. Billy’s men shooting him dead, dropping to the ground instantly. Guns were now raised on both ends, Ada shouting for them to lower them, while Billy moved forward shooting into Tommy’s direction, managing to shoot him in the left shoulder.
Your eyes shot red, without the slightest hesitation, lifted the gun from your stockings, turning and shooting him straight in the head. You got there before anyone else did. The silence was loud as Tommy’s men couldn’t quite get their head around you, the nicest woman they had met, you had just shot someone dead without hesitation.
Billy’s men instantly raised their weapons in your direction, but didn’t shoot, “Tommy and Billy fought fairly. He didn’t win, end of story. Now fuck off” you ordered, turning and marching through the peaky lot before disappearing into the Shelby household.
Not even a few minutes later, the group followed and pulled in a wounded tommy. You didn’t even bat an eyelid, used to this shit, it was his shoulder. He would survive. But it still wasn’t nice seeing him in pain.
You sat in silence, while Jeremiah Jesus worked on trying to get the bullet out of Tommy’s pierced skin, downing whiskey after whiskey. No one seemed to talk to you, instead looked at you with worry. Their outlook on you had changed within the space of 20 minutes.
Tommy was now up, the bullet was now out of his skin and we were then all pushed into the room where Danny Wizz-bang’s body lay before us. You had rarely seen a dead body, infact everyone seemed to shield you from the violence but not today. You stood to the right of Tommy, it didn’t bother you in the slightest. He kept giving you an eye, full of concern, unsure how you were going to act.
You zoned out when Tommy spoke, you had never really spoke to Danny before. So this wasn’t much of a deal to you personally, you were awakened from your thoughts when Tommy was shoving a bottle infront if you, “Danny Wizz-bang,” you spoke, raising the bottle then downing a bit before passing it on to John for him to do the same. It went round the group that surrounded the table, before it got back to Tommy.
The place was lively, full of people drinking, and talking of heading to the Garrison. You couldn’t be arsed, sick of the sight of Tommy looking over at you constantly.
“Why do you keep looking at me?,” you spat. Having enough of him.
“You just killed an enemy of mine without even blinking an eyelid.”
“You all seem to think I’m so nice, eh. Not the right woman for Tommy, eh. Well I’m done being fucking nice.” The pause was loud, as you walked to the door, “and may I add, that did not bother me in the slightest. You all have just shielded me so much you didn’t know how much I could handle.” Slamming the door behind you, turning up to go back to your house.
“You’ve got to give her a chance Tommy. She’s tougher than you think.” Ada advised her older brother. Tommy nodding in response, knowing he was starting to realise what he really had.
You were in your house not only five minutes before he burst the door open, finding you sipping a whiskey on your couch, “I’m not going to keep doing this tommy. This is the second time in two months.”
He had done this before, and like you, couldn’t stay away. He couldn’t bare to walk past you in the street, perhaps you being with another man. It would tip him over the edge that he was already so very close to.
“We’re not going to keep doing it. I’ll give credit where it’s due.” He started to come closer to you, taking your hands in his, pulling you up to him, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
He took your hand placing it at the back of his neck, twisting his hair in between your fingers. You pulled him into you, pressing a kiss onto his lips. He pulled you in closer, hands holding your waist.
“I love you Tommy. When will you fucking realise that.” You whispered to him, your forehead touching his. He smiled, “I love you.”
He pulled your face into his, his fingers intertwined in your h/c hair. Their tongues intertwined with each other’s, as the kiss deepened. You started to unbuckle his trousers, dropping them revealing his already hard length. You pulled back from the kiss and dropped to your knees, not breaking eye contact as you took his erected length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He let out a soft moan, carfullly moving your hair out of your face. You started to suck on it, bobbing your head up and down, satisfying him, as he threw his head back in pleasure.
He couldn’t wait any longer, he just longed to fuck you hard. He pulled you off your knees, taking your hand into his as he pulled you into the bedroom, pushing you back on the bed as he lifted up your dress over your head. He traced his fingers over your thigh, placing soft kisses as he went reaching your pussy he pulled down your black lace thongs off, you flicked them off your legs. He placed two fingers in between your slit, running up and down slowly, “wet eh?” Pushing his finger into you, slowly going in and out,
“Tommy.” You breathed. He smiled before pushing a second finger and going a more steady pace, pulling them out and sticking his thick shaft into you, thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You started to arch your back, gripping at his hands, and he started to increase his pace, beginning to thrust at a rapid pace.
You pulled back, and pushed him back onto the bed, sitting on top of his erect penis, slowly bouncing on the tip, every few bounces pushing it all the way in. He threw his head back, mouth just ever so slightly open, “y/n” he stuttered.
You instantly started to ride him, his body almost non existent, starting to twitch at how close he was becoming. “Make me cum,” he edged you on, “please.”
You give him a smirk, before increasing the pace, he gripped your thighs, rocking you as you took the lead. Bouncing on his cock, was making you very close, bouncing as you both came to the high, falling into his bare chest, both of you breathing heavily attempting to recover from the love that you both had made.
-
Following the weeks of the murder of Billy Kimber, you noticed a drastic change in how people treated you. People would always still mutter a hello, however would step out of your way, and you were close to being feared just about as much as Tommy himself.
You were walking Into the shop, placing your coat down as you went to make a cup of tea before starting the day. You noticed Polly staring at you, “what are you looking at pol?” You laughed slightly, turning to face her, cup of tea in hand.
“Come here,” she motioned towards you, cupping your left boob into her hand. You furrowed your brows, wondering what the fuck she was doing, “your pregnant. It’s a boy.”
You were in total disbelief, you stumbled back into a chair closest to you, “fuck sake.”
“Tommy’s?” She asked, and you gave her a look of disgust, “yes obviously it’s Tommy’s.”
“For fuck sake”, you moaned, just as Tommy himself walked into the shop. Placing a kiss on your cheek as he walked past into his office, you rolled your eyes at pol who raised her eyes brows in response. Sighing following him into the office, “morning.”
You sighed, “got something to tell ya.” He placed the bit of paper that was in his hands down, turning his full attention onto you. “eh, I’m pregnant”
His eyes went wide, “are ye really?” He smiled, quickly getting up and making his way over to you, taking your hands into his.
“Boy.” You could barely string a sentence together, you knew he would be happy but with how rocky everything was recently you were slightly unsure.
“Boy eh? Someone coming for my crown.” He repeated, “this is great news, now go home. No woman of mine will be working here while carrying my child”, he ordered.
He placed a kiss onto your lips, soft, sweet, “I love you so much, you have no idea,” he muttered to you.
“I love you too, and baby boy,”
“And baby boy,” he repeated, a wide smile spread across his face.
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demigodreading · 3 years
Text
Saving Mini Benson Pt:1
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Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus​:  Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?
Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this
Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader
Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader
Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)
Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)
And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.
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Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.
“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.
“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”
“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”
“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”
“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.
“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.
“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter.  I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.
Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N!  We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”
Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved. 
It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention. 
“Hello? Hello?”
As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”
Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”
Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.
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Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.
After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”
When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”
“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”
“She knows, they always know.”
Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment. 
Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness. 
Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”
“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”
Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.
As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day. 
When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her. 
It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.
The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”
“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”
“It’s just a feeling.”
“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.
Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”
“And me cap?”
“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”
Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”
Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”
“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”
Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.
“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.
“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.
“How.. how did you know that we fought?
“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.
Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.
“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.
“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”
Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”
“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”
“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time. 
154 notes · View notes
taeyongers · 3 years
Text
Exile (M)
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pairing: hyunjae x reader
genre: smut, rival mob bosses au, childhood friends to lovers 
summary: basically two orphans grow up and end up in rival gangs without knowing, until you meet in the middle of a gunfight
warning: drugs mention, bullying, sexual harassment, old style orphanages, gangs, gunfights, slight mentions of blood and wounds, sexual content (be warned) but it’s mostly soft and fluffy, light sub! hyunjae for a time
word count: 8.5k 
a/n: loooool @letteredwings hi friend this for u, pls don’t headbutt hyunjae anymore
The earth is cold under your bare feet. Your toes are spread wide. Wet pebbled mud meshes through the spaces in between.
It’s raining. The pitter patter of raindrops against the concrete pavement makes you want to step a little farther out from the awning you stand under, to just feel it against your skin. Your hair has already gotten wet. You just need more, a feeling to break you free from the unchanging hell you face each day.
“Y/n!” A sharp voice, familiar, cuts you out of your thoughts. “What are you doing!? You’ll catch a cold!”
It’s Hyunjae, of course. You let him tug you back from under the awning, through the doors, up the wooden steps and into the dreary warmth.
He is your height at this age. His eyes are young and shining, brows furrowed in concern and anger.
“The headmistress will be angry,” he mumbles. His hands rub your sides to get some warmth in you.
“The headmistress doesn't care,” you mutter.
He scoffs at your words, takes your little hand in his and trudges up the stairs into his dormitory. He sits you down on his bed, rummages through his dresser, which is not even a foot away from the bed. It’s a pathetically small room.
“You'll need dry clothes,” he says to himself and pulls out a towel. He places it on your wet hair, brows still furrowed. “You need to take those off. You’ll get sick.”
Finally, your cheeks burn. “All the other children already tease that we’ll get married someday and you want me to take my clothes off in your room!?”
You shove away the towel from your head. His cheeks tint pink and he sits down beside you with a huff.
“I didn't mean you need to change right now. You can do it in your room. Just dry off first.” He picks up the towel and holds it out to you.
You give him a glare and snatch the towel before placing it on your hair. He looks at you, eyeing the water dripping down the strands.
“Why were you even outside in the rain?”
“I was bored.”
He doesn't believe you. “They were making fun of you, weren’t they?” You glare at him again. He smirks like he knows something. “And you ran outside? You could have come to find me.”
“Why? You’re not my brother.”
He falls silent.
You shift on his creaky bed. “Why do you help me so much? You protect me from the kids who throw food at my hair. You fight my bullies. You talk back to the headmistress when she is angry with me. You share your cookies with me. You hug me when I cry, take care of me when I’m sick, now you’re drying me off when I’m wet. Why?”
He looks at you and shrugs. “Because you can't defend yourself. You’re small.”
Anger rips through you. “Yes I can! I don't need you!” You shove at him, nearly toppling him from the bed.
He grapples your hands. “Fine! Fine, it’s not because of that!” He says, calming you down. “It’s because… I know that sad kids end up in those bad groups around town. The headmistress says those who don't behave will never find parents and will stay here until they turn sixteen. Once they leave, they are taken in by those bad people. And I know she says that for kids who don't behave but I think those kids are just sad.” You stare at him as he stutters. “So, I don’t want you to be sad. I don't want you to end up with those people.”
“So you’re saying I’m sad?” You ask. He touches a stray piece of your hair.
“I mean...I see how the other kids treat you. How the teachers and mistresses treat you. I would be sad.”
You look at him until your gaze falls. “Then... we should both make a promise to not be sad and end up with those people.” He nods and holds out his pinky. You interlace yours with his. “We’ll find parents, or we’ll grow up and become good people.”
He nods resolutely. “Yeah.”
Your hands fall away from each other.
“Do you.. wanna change into dry clothes and come back here? I hid some extra cookies for you.”
Your lips break out into a grin. “Okay!”
He grins back. You rush off, something light fluttering in your chest.
This is how childhood goes. You do everything together. He’s your rock and your shield, your only friend. He protects you from the other children, your teachers and from the world. When they manage to slip past him, your iron defense, and get to you, you hide away and cry. He always finds you, hugs you through your tears, shushes and comforts you.
Childhood years fall away into adolescence and teenage years. By sixteen, you will be thrown out into the world, forced to brave it on your own. Hyunjae and you try to make the most out of whatever miserable years you have left at the orphanage, and whatever little protection it offers you both during this time.
As you grow, he surpasses your height. His jaw becomes defined, his body lanky and tall until he's a head above you. He's handsome… so handsome and it makes your heart flip and cheeks burn. You still share food and he still comforts you when things are hard. You find a special place together, the rooftop of the orphanage, where you lie flat and feel as if the universe is swallowing you into itself.
“We can’t turn out bad,” He reminds himself and you. “We can't fall into those gangs that plague this city. We need to make a life for ourselves once we get out of here, no matter how hard it will be.”
“It won't be hard for you,” you say. “You’re a good person. You’ll be a doctor or something. I know it.”
He scoffs, staring up at the night sky. “You don’t know that.”
“I do!” Your brows furrow. “You’re the best person here. This place doesn’t deserve you.”
He looks at you with stars in his eyes. He moves as if going to touch your cheek, but changes his mind.
“Okay,”  he whispers, “but it doesn't deserve you either.”
You stare at him. You wonder constantly if he feels something for you. You find him looking at you when you don’t notice, something akin to stars in his eyes, though to be fair, they have been there since childhood. But you’re not convinced that he feels anything for you other than that of a sister, a friend.
He holds out his pinky finger, a reassurance of that promise. You cross your finger with his.
Life’s problems change as time goes on. Bullying from the other orphans becomes more personal, more cruel. At just 15, the children have been introduced to drugs, sex, and using violence for intimidation. They wonder loudly about your relationship with Hyunjae. They wonder what you’re giving him for someone like him to care about such a loser like you.
Like that one time when a boy and his friends corner you after dinner, sneers and hatred spouting in their mouths.
“Are you his whore or something?” He asks, eyes burning holes into you. “Do you have to use that mouth in convincing ways to keep him protecting you? Maybe we need convincing as well,” he laughs with his friends.
You slip past them and run to your room. You cry until you can't breathe. Hyunjae finds you, he always finds you, soft voice filled with concern asking what, what is it, please tell me.
You tell him in between sobs. His eyes grow hard and cold. He hugs you tightly, shushes and strokes your hair until you calm down and fall asleep in his arms. His grip is gentle, but something in him is colder than usual.
The next day, he disappeared. You hear shouting in the headmistress’ office. He returns in the night, bruises sprouting across his face. His hand is clenched tight, swollen and bruised and messy. His eyes are still hard and cold.
You sit him down in your room. On this rare occasion, you’re the one taking care of him. You drag a wet rag gently across his swollen knuckles and his bruised cheekbones.
“What happened? Where were you?”
He doesn’t respond. He’s glaring at something far off and refuses to tell you.
The next day, you find that he’s been sentenced to weeks of latrine duty. You find out from another boy, Chanhee, about what happened. Hyunjae had attacked the boy who harassed you the day before.
“So then Hyunjae shows up and beats the crap out of him behind the building. If you think hyunjae looked bad, you should have seen the other guy.”
You get angry. Not at him, but at yourself. Why, why were you so weak? Why does Hyunjae put himself at risk for you? Why did Hyunjae grow up putting himself at risk for you, just because you couldn't protect yourself?
The other kids already think you’re doing some kind of sexual favors for him to protect you from abuse. You feel ashamed, disgusted. Why does he associate himself with someone as weak and useless as you?
You begin to distance yourself from him. You don’t go over to his room or let him stay in yours. You don’t hang out with him when you’re permitted to go outside. You begin to talk less, eat less together and, stop your rooftop meetings all together, feigning a headache or something else each time he asks. You feel it’s for the best. He should live his life for himself, not for you.
It doesn’t work. He ends up cornering you one day, hurt flooding his eyes, something you never want to see again. “Why are you ignoring me?”
You sigh.
“Did someone say something? Did they threaten-”
“What am I to you?” You ask.
His resolve burns away, and he’s left confused, mouth bobbing open and closed like a fish. “You’re my friend-”
“Do you love me?”
His brows furrow. “Of course I love you.”
“Are you in love with me?”
He goes still. Silent.
You look away. Of course not. He’s just protecting you because he feels that you’re too weak to do it yourself.
“I feel like a burden  You keep making up for my weaknesses.”
“Hey,” he tilts your chin up. “It’s not your fault. People are shit. I’m just helping you.“
“And you keep getting hurt. Our lives are already miserable here, and I’m just making yours worse.”
“Stop,” he says, eyes conflicted, unable to get the words out. He never was good with them.
“I’m turning sixteen soon. I’m going away.”
His brows furrow. “Where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere. I’ll get a job, and live my life.”
“But I don’t want you to go!” He erupts, rattling you. He sees your expression and softens. “We can… we can go together. Live together.”
“I’m already a burden on you. And besides, why would you? You’re not in love with me.”
He’s silent. His eyes are burning with something he wants to say. But he doesn't. He never does. And neither do you.
...
You turn sixteen, no longer legally allowed to stay at the orphanage. You move away and become a waitress. You don’t hear from Hyunjae again. You get used to your new life, find an apartment, and appreciate the small, new found freedom of living by yourself. Of course, the struggle for money is always there as well as a deep ache in your heart that refuses to go away, but it’s more than you’ve ever had.
Eight years go by and you break your promise. You ended up getting involved with the wrong people in the allure of deals for quick ways to get money. You meet a charming woman who convinces you to join her friends, that they could use your skills and knowledge. Now, you’re in a gang, one of the many in this god forsaken city.
You fight, you shoot, you kill, and you get money. You live in more comfort as a criminal than you’ve had in your whole life. You’ve broken your promise and don’t regret it. It’s as if it's always meant to be. You finally feel like you’re in charge of your life.
Hyunjae fades from your mind. You’re not sure if you ever fade from his.
Gang wars are all too familiar to you, and the strategy involved in conducting them is as well, now that you have become the leader. You like the new found power, your members depending on you, your success in proving yourself over and over again as the boss.
One gang in particular has been tormenting you for the past few years. They have been picking off your members, stealing your business, moving into your territory. You’d decided enough was enough and engaged them. It takes place as gunfights through back alleys in the middle of the night.
You decided to join in this time on the dirty work of fighting. The new enemy seems capable and more threatening than the others. Besides, as leader, you’ve been tucked away in the safety of your headquarters, sending orders from there. You haven't had a good gun fight in a while.
Right now, you’re hidden behind a building, shooting at shapeless figures in the dark. You know you have more numbers, superior guns and skills, when you begin pushing them back, cornering them, suffocating them. Victory is close and soon you will be queen of these lands once again.
Then, you hear a voice, your subordinate shouting something at the same time a shapeless figure melts from the shadows and darts across the street.
“That’s their leader!”
Oh, you are not one to miss out on this opportunity, of taking out this leader, of ruling both groups, both territories. So, you tear yourself from out of the shadows and sprint after the figure.
Your members call out after you but you ignore them. Your group is winning. Their leader is making a last ditch effort to escape. There is nothing to worry about.
You chase the figure into a darkened alley that stops abruptly at a dead end with one dim streetlight. You corner him, gun raised, and watch the male turn around.
“What kind of coward leader runs from a fight?”
He freezes, as if something has seized and taken hold of his entire body. Then, he steps into the light. A shock runs through you. Your eyes widen, and the gun almost slips from your grip.
“Y/n?”
His voice floats to your ears. Yes, it’s familiar, one you’ve memorized, but it’s deeper now. You can hardly overcome your shock as men appear behind you with guns pointed at your head. It was a trap. 
“Stop!” Hyunjae orders, shock and concern taking over his features, ones you’ve known since childhood. “We’re taking her with us.”
...
Your feet hurt from pacing the room, but you don’t stop. You hear an exasperated sigh from off to the side.
“Are you going to sit down and talk?” Hyunjae asks. He is seated at a table, a spare chair beside him. Your eyes run over him briefly. 
He’s older, much older. He’s grown half a foot since you saw him last. His body is bigger, toned from fighting. He has the same eyes, though - young looking and twinkling- and the same smell, something that makes your stomach wrench.
You continue to pace, glancing at the window, the air vent, the door- anything that can let you escape.
“Y/n.”
Your eyes snap to him. “No. I’m not going to sit down and have a talk. Especially not with you,” you spit out.
He blinks. “What do you mean, especially not with me?”
You don't respond. He stands up abruptly, and without thinking, you grab the knife from where they never found it when they searched you.
He freezes at the sight. His hand curls around the gun in his holster. “Don’t be stupid, Y/n. There are men right outside those doors. One word from me and they’ll barge in and kill you.”
“Then why don’t they?” You yell.
“Why are u so angry!?” He snarls, finally showing his anger. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in years! What did I-“
“What did you do? I thought I left you in that orphanage years ago and now I find out that you’re the head of the gang that keeps invading our rightful territory? That it was on your orders that my members were killed for years? That I was almost killed!?”
Something flits across his eyes.
“Yeah I know,” you sneer, “how ironic is it that you were my knight in shining armor back then and now you’ve been trying to kill me for years.”
He exhales, holding his hand up in a placating gesture. “Y/n, I didn't know.”
“And what about those dreams you had, huh? About being a doctor? Something good? You promised you’d not fall into this scene and yet you ended up here anyway!”
His face is hard. “We both made that promise.”
You falter, glaring at him. “I was always the less promising one out of us two.”
He steps forward. “That’s not true.”
You purse your lips. “Are you going to kill me now?”
He stops, looking hurt. “Of course not.”
“Why not? I’m the enemy leader.”
He looks exasperated. “Y/n-“ he reaches for you but you step away. His hand falls from the air.
The silence is deafening and you grip your knife. “I should kill you. I will be better for it.”
Hyunjae sighs, running his hand through his hair . “Don’t be stupid. The guards outside-“
“I can take them.” You say with full confidence. He seems surprised. He looks at the anger, the hurt in your eyes, then down at the knife, in your experienced grip. “I’m going to kill you,” you say again, almost as an effort to convince yourself.
Some light kindles in his eyes, a look of interest, curiosity. Maybe he’s caught onto your bluff.
He raises a brow. “Really?”
You blink and nod. He steps closer, so close you’re just inches away, until you can see the deep brown of his twinkling eyes, the scent of him that takes you back years. He grips your hand holding the knife and presses it against his chest, right over his heart. His gaze is intense.
“Then do it.”
You stutter. “I- I will do it…”
His eyes aren’t wavering from yours. He imperceptibly presses the knife harder against his chest. Your hands are shaking, and you make no move to pierce him. He realizes this. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he gently pulls your wrist away from his chest. With a simple twist, the knife clatters to the floor. Now, you’re both looking at each other, silence flooding the room.
His eyes never break their lock on yours except for one flicker down to your lips and back. Then, he moves so slowly, head tilting, lips nearly brushing yours to kiss you. You can barely get a hold of yourself to jerk away.
“What- what are you doing!?” You breathe hard, stepping back.
He grasps your elbow and pulls you back. His eyes soften, hand coming up to run across your face. “Please, I … just missed you...so much” His voice is shaky, a rare break in character from the short amount of time you’ve seen him recently, eyes vulnerable instead of cold steel.
“I have to kill you.” Your voice cracks. “After all those years of fighting-“
“But you can’t,” he speaks, eyes drinking you in. “Because you feel something for me like I do for you, even after all this time. And in the middle of this war and senseless violence, can’t we just have this?”
You freeze. “You feel what for me?”
He catches on. Something soft floods his eyes, his thumb stroking your cheek. You would have torn away if not for the ridiculous amount of comfort it brings you.
“Is that why you are so angry?” He chuckles, letting his hand slip from your cheek before releasing a defeated sigh. “I should have told you I was in love with you before you left.”
You still. He rubs the nape of his neck.
“When you left, I … I lost it.” Hyunjae’s voice cracked. “I was angry for the longest time. I resented you for leaving. I resented myself for not trying harder to make you stay, for not telling you the truth when you asked me how I felt.” He paced. “You.. called me a good person. Then I lost you and I threw away everything about myself that was good. I got into drugs… crime. Now I’m here.” He glanced at you. “I never thought you’d be here too.”
You silently digest his words, feeling the knot in your stomach loosen.
He steps closer and takes your hand.  “I couldn’t sleep at night for years. I constantly wondered if you were in danger.”
“I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” you whisper.
“No,” he gazes at you, talking almost to himself. “No, you don’t.” He drops your hand and sighs. “I can see I’ve hurt you too much, back then and even now, to earn your forgiveness.”
Silence hangs heavy. The entrenched hurt in your heart lightens. Of course he’d been hurting all this time too. But your throat is too heavy to form any words in response.
“So, what do we do now?” You ask hoarsely.
He’s silent, eyes going from you to the door. “I can’t take you back to my members. They’ll have you tortured and killed immediately, and there’s no way in hell I would let that happen.”
You make a show of rolling your eyes. Of course, he protects you, even now.
Hyunjae paces across the floor, stroking his chin. He stops by the table and looks up at the air vent in the ceiling. He turns around, eyes determined.
“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. We have to fake a struggle. Give me a few bruises. I’ll lock the door so the guards can’t get in immediately. Then, you climb up through the vent and make you way out of the building. Hopefully they won’t catch up.”
You can’t help giving a small smile. “Hopefully?”
He nods, eyes softening for a brief moment. Suddenly, he presses forward and kisses you deeply. A shock of butterflies bursts through your stomach, fluttering up and up to your chest. You barely process his soft lips, his calloused hands on your cheeks, the fringes of his hair tickling your forehead. Your mind turns to mush before he pulls away. He looks at you softly as he releases you. Then, he punches you in the shoulder, hard.
“Ow!” You reel back.
He smirks. “Where do you think you’re going?” He calls out loudly, much louder than is needed.
You catch on. “I’m leaving!” You yell just as loud and shove him hard towards the door. He grins approvingly at your play and spins around to lock the door. Someone pounds on the wood from the other side.
“Sir!? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he calls. “I just have a difficult prisoner, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Something playful flares in his eyes as he nearly tackles you. You stumble violently for a moment, his large arms wrapped around yours to pin you in place. You try to wrestle out of his grip but he manages to hold your arms tight around you so you can’t move, giving you the odd sensation of being in a straitjacket.
“No, let me go! I’ll--” you pause, glaring at him. “I’ll headbutt you, I swear.”
He smirks. “Then headbutt me.”
You pause for a second and then you swing your head into his cranium. His head jolts backwards and his arms release you to grip his throbbing head.
“What the hell- you actually did it!?”
You snicker at him before the sound of pounding resounds throughout the room.
“Sir, the door isn’t opening! We’re going to break in!”
Hyunjae whirls around to face you, gesturing you to go up the vent. “Alright, hurry up!” He yells to guards.
You step onto the table and reach up onto your tiptoes to remove the covering. With one last look at Hyunjae, who’s face seems to be a mess of regret, affection, longing, and panic, you muster out a “see you later,” before disappearing through the hole.
...
Hyunjae knows he is seen as a cold leader. Like he said, once he lost you, he lost everything about himself that was good.
He killed. He punished. He executed.
He would beat a man for looking at him the wrong way. Give brutal tests of loyalty to his subordinates. Make it so that they quake when he walks into the room.
It was to maintain order, dignity, balance.
No one can defeat him at a mental game. No one can make him falter, doubt, outsmart him, move him. No one. That’s how he climbed the ranks and became the boss.
That is, until now. Fifteen minutes in that room with you and his mind has turned to mush. You’ve grown up, more beautiful than you were before, and it utterly stopped his heart. Your smiles, enough to make his knees buckle. Oh, how he wanted to take you in his arms, like he’s imagined for years, to hold you, hug you, kiss you, never let you go.
Of course he couldn't do that. The universe is not that kind. He got in one kiss - just because he desperately needed to know how you felt - and you melting into him was all the answer he needed. But then he had to say goodbye to you far too fast.
Now, the guards have burst into the room, searching feverishly for you who’s long disappeared. He mentions that you used the air vent to escape and leaves through the door. He knows they can never catch up to you in time - you’re far too good.
That sad, insecure girl he knew from his past seems to have changed. You’re a leader of a gang now, the one he’s been fighting and struggling to outsmart for years. If he had known it was you all along, how quickly he would have stolen you away from the fighting and left to live somewhere far away, somewhere peaceful. He would abandon his members, everything he built after all these years in a heartbeat for you. It was never even a question.
But he barely knows if you want the same thing. All that he knows now is that he has to see you again.
He thinks about these things, mind rumbling and turning, as he walks briskly to his meeting. His head still pounds from your headbutt and he catches himself smiling at the thought of it. It’s one ache he doesn’t mind.
He enters the room filled with high ranking members. They wait patiently for him to take his seat at the head of the table.
“So? Any updates?” He asks.
One guard steps forward, the same one that had been searching for you. “Sir, we couldn’t find her. I believe she escaped.”
Internally relieved and unsurprised, he outwardly slams his fist on the table, making everyone jump.
“Damn! Do you know how valuable she would have been alive? The information we could have gotten out of her?” He glares. “And how much of a mess they would have been without their leader?”
The guard ducks his head. “Yes sir. Sorry.”
Another man leans forward in his chair, Juyeon, his close, right hand man. “But we found intel on their next plans. They are raiding the HQ of a much smaller group, If we meet them there, we can catch them by surprise, and take their leader out.”
Hyunjae doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he’ll see you again. On the other, you’ll be in danger.
A grunt leaning by a wall says, “I hope we take her out. That bitch deserves that and worse. If I-”
Before he can finish, Hyunjae has him shoved roughly against the wall. His shirt is clutched in Hyunjae’s fist and a knife pressed to his neck. Hyunjae barely registers his rage, the look of fear and shock from everyone around the room, from the man in his grip. His eyes are eyes wide, looking at Hyunjae for an explanation.
Hyunjae rolls with his show. “Less talking. More doing. Talk after you bring her to me. She’s already escaped once from us.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” he sputters out.
Hyunjae releases him from and glares at the room. “We’re done here.”
...
I should have told you I was in love with you before you left.
Those words echo through your mind nonstop, refusing to give you any mercy. And even worse is the memory of the kiss - of his lips pressed against yours, his hands on your skin, his smell - you secretly wish that moment had lasted forever. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, and your heart aches in response.
Then, you rip yourself from your thoughts.
“Ugh!” You yell, slamming your gun onto the table. You’ve tried to assemble it for what seemed like the 50th time in the past ten minutes but your thoughts keep distracting you.
“Y/n?” Your subordinate, Younghoon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “We’re ready to leave.”
You finally manage to click the gun in place. With one last order to your mind to let go of useless thinking, you stand and slip your gun into the holster.  “Let’s go.”
The place you’ve decided to raid has many resources like valuable drugs and money, all hoarded by a smaller group that you can beat out easily. You surprise them, your members jumping out of cars and invading in from all openings of the derelict headquarters.
There’s shouting, scrambling, and finally gunfire. You know this mission will be easy enough - the other group does not have enough people to defend their resources. This will be over before you know it.
At least, that’s what you thought until you spot strange black vans pulling up to the curve outside, men jumping out in large numbers to join the fight. They immediately engage your members with gunfire. You panic, unable to understand what is happening before you catch sight of Hyunjae exiting a van and tucking himself behind the building entrance for shelter against the bullets. He catches your gaze and a number of different emotions pass by his face. He settles on a hesitant smile.
Confusion, then anger rips through you. So much for all those sweet words he spoke yesterday. He’s still fighting you, still trying to kill your members, still prolonging this war. If he wants it that way, then that’s what you’ll give him.
You step out and begin shooting. Chaos seems to erupt with two sizable forces fighting each other inside one building. You can tell that you will not win without a large loss of life.
“Just find whatever you can and go!” You bark at your subordinates. They scramble to obey your orders, grabbing suitcases and locked chests in between the shooting.
Before long, you’re calling them all back from the scene, ordering their retreat. They scramble into the cars you came in. You glance back to see Hyunjae’s men lowering their guns, glancing at him for their next orders - whether to pursue or retreat. However, his gaze is only fixed on you.
Then, he makes a break for it. He runs directly after you without a second glance, without a word to the rest of his group, leaving them stunned in confusion. You would’ve had half a mind to guess that he means to kill you, if it isn’t for the slightly sad expression on his face.
One of your girls steps forward to aim her gun at him. A shock of fear runs through you. “Wait! Stop! Don’t kill him!”
With wide eyes, she obeys and resorts to landing a good punch on Hyunjae’s cheek that sends him tumbling to the ground. Shouts ring out in the air and you see that his members are now running after you.
“Get him into the car! Hurry!”
They do as you order. Soon enough, the party of cars is driving off with Hyunjae’s men trailing behind on foot. They eventually stop and run back into their vans. A car chase ensues through the streets but your smaller cars outrun their bigger vans within minutes. You’re left speeding through the night with a slightly unconscious, groaning Hyunjae in your lap in the backseat.
...
“Does it hurt?”
Hyunjae peers up at you under the dim lighting of your room. You inspect the nasty cut on his cheek, one caused by the punch that took him out.
“I’ve dealt with a lot worse,” he replies, expression unreadable. “Funny how we’re back in the same situation, except...the other way around.”
You know what he means. Last time, you were captured and held in his room as a prisoner. Now, he’s yours, except he came willingly.
You sigh, pouring a bit of rubbing alcohol onto a clean rag. You press it to his cheek and he winces slightly.
“Why did you run after me?” You ask, patting down his skin.
He sighs, eyes running over your face. “Because I wanted to see you.”
You ignore how your stomach flips. “But you left all your men behind, people who depended on you.”
He shrugs.
You scoff, shaking your head as you step back. “You planned that entire raid just to see me? Don’t you care about them? Right now, they’re thinking you’ve gotten captured but really, you ran away.”
“Y/n, I became involved in this filthy life because I had nothing left after I lost you. But now, I found you and…” he trails off, large brown eyes falling on yours. “There’s something more now.”
Your heart thrums but you maintain a frown. “So that’s it? You’d just leave?”
He blinks slowly and smiles. “Yeah. That’s it.”
You carefully place a square piece of gauze on his wound and tape it down. You almost miss his smile, his eyes filled with softness and stars as they gaze at you.
“What is it now?”
He smiles. “Isn’t this familiar?”
You have flashes of memories - cleaning his wounds in the orphanage after he got himself in a fight over your honor.
“Don’t get used to it,” you mutter, tossing a few wrappers in the trash. You move to step away but he’s suddenly standing up, hand shooting out to grip your arm.
“Y/n-“
“Should I remind you that you’re the prisoner in here?” You glare.
His brows are knitted, face forlorn. “You act like you hate me but you don’t really.”
“Oh, I don’t?”
“No, you don’t.” He levels his gaze with you. “You told your gunman not to kill me. You cleaned and dressed my wounds. You kissed me like you’re in love with me-“
“That’s enough,” you growl, tugging harshly away from his grip but he holds onto you tightly.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I loved you back then,” he says again, and again it flips and cleaves and destroys your heart. His eyes are full of regret. “Maybe you would have stayed.”
He searches your face for something that you’re hesitant and unwilling to give him. Something seems to fade from his eyes as he slowly releases you.
“Or maybe you wouldn’t have.” The smile falls from his lips. “Maybe it was meant to be this way.” He sits back down on your bed. “And maybe I truly was an idiot for getting myself captured by people who want me dead.”
You study his features, twisted in defeat. He’s always been so dependent on your moods, your signs, the words you say to him. He can be emboldened by your subtle signals and just as easily defeated by your rejections. Your heart flips again and you curse it. He really did love you, then and now.
“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh, earning his attention. “I hated being a burden on you, regardless of... if you loved me or not.”
He gazes at you in such pure confusion that you look away. “Y/n, you were never a burden.”
You feel the sting of tears, a lump forming in your throat. He stands up slowly, steps close to you.
“You were my family-“ he begins.
“You were my family too but you kept getting hurt, kept suffering because of someone so useless as me,” your voice cracks.
His heart seems to break, you can see so in his eyes. He reaches for you tentatively, and you don’t pull away this time. He places a gentle hand on your cheek, gazing deep into your eyes, taking hold of your heart.
“You were never a burden. Never. All those things I did because I loved you,” he says softly. “You could never be a burden.”
Something shatters in your chest and you surge forward to kiss him, tears rolling down your face. He embraces you, eagerly welcomes the kiss, grasps your cheeks as if you are the most precious thing ever.
The kiss is desperate - a release of more than a decade’s worth of repressed love. You’re hypersensitive to the feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing against yours, the deep groans resounding from his chest as you melt in his arms.
“Y/n,” he groans, holding your waist in a tight grip as you pull away, panting for air. His lips attach to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses down the column. Your breaths stutter, fingers curling into his hair. A nip of your skin by his teeth has a light moan slipping past your lips.
He pulls back to gaze at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. His irises swirl with affection mixed with want.
“I- Do you want-“ he manages out, drinking in your gaze, but unable to finish his question.
You swallow thickly, mind racing. Your body is burning with need and longing for him, after so many years. You can only manage out a nod. He presses his forehead against yours.
“I need you to say it.”
You let out a shaky exhale. “I want you.”
He seems to revel in those words before swooping in to kiss you, somehow even more desperate this time. He pulls you gently towards the bed, littering kisses on your lips with breathless words in between.
“Tell me any time if you want to stop, alright?”
You nod. “Okay.”
His eyes twinkle before he kisses you again. You fall back against the sheets. His fingers flit down across your shirt and your pants, stopping to unbutton them. You kick them away impatiently and tug your shirt over your head.
He stares at your semi nude form in awe. He slowly places his hands on the skin of your waist, feeling your skin underneath his fingers.
“Have you had sex before, Hyunjae?” You chuckle.
“You have no idea how long I imagined this,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. “But you’re more beautiful than anything my brain could conjure up.”
Your cheeks burn at the cheesiness but your heart thrums all the same. Then, your mouth goes dry as he reaches and pulls his shirt over his head.
Inch by inch, the deep black ink of tattoos curling across his skin are revealed. His muscles ripple with movement and settle again once he’s cast his shirt away. He gazes at you in anticipation.
You find your voice. “You got tattoos.”
He smiles. “You like them?”
He takes your hand and places it on his stomach. You swallow hard, finger tracing one line of onyx ink. “W-Why would you care if I like them?”
He chuckles. “I care what you like.” He grips your hand softly, entangling his fingers with yours.
You glance at him. “Are you sure you’re a gang leader?”
He smiles and tugs you forward, humming as he kisses you. “You know, you look really hot when you hold a gun.”
You chuckle as his arms wrap around you. “Really?”
“Yeah,” kisses down your throat, hot and open mouthed. “I lost my mind the first time I saw you standing tall, directing orders, shooting.”
You gasp as he grips your ass harshly and sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck at the same time. “I wanted you then and there.”
You can’t respond, your mind slowly descending into the depths of incoherency. He presses you flat against the bed, and leans over you, hips rolling deep against yours. Gasps and moans fall from your lips as he watches, mesmerized.
“I always wanted to hear your moans,” he says breathily, grinding against you. “God, how many nights I’d spend just thinking of you.”
“Hyunjae,” you gasp, grabbing his hips. “You can tone down the love sick puppy-ness.”
He chuckles, a deep low sound that sends tingles straight to your core. “But I can’t help it.” He places a kiss below your heart, trailing down your stomach and your navel, settling between your thighs. “I love you. I have always loved you.”
Warmth floods your chest as you gaze down at him, at his eyes that are filled with affection and the stars of the universe. Then he presses a kiss to your clothed mound and all your thoughts are shattering.
He hooks his fingers under your underwear and drags them down. You shift to sit up on your elbows. “Y-You don’t have to-“
He cuts you off with a disbelieving laugh. “I have waited and imagined every detail of this for years. I can’t not.” He peers up at you. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”
You swallow thickly. “N-No. I want to.”
His lips curl into a smile. “Good.”
He removes your underwear, and spreads your thighs around his shoulders. His hot breath meets your core and you release a shaky breath. He gives you one last, heated look, before he’s dragging his tongue across your center, stopping at your clit.
You throw your head back and moan. The sound spurs him on. His hands grip your thighs harder, tongue dipping into your entrance and stealing your sanity. Your ragged breaths turn into gasps and moans, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his face.
He holds you down firmly against the mattress, the muscles in his forearm flexing around your thighs. His eyes burn into yours as another stroke of his tongue sends you reeling.
“H-Hyun,” you gasp out. His eyelids flutter at the sound of his name. He groans into you, shaking you to the core, continuing his ministrations.
You lose your mind slowly. Every movement of his tongue sends you to another dimension. When he pushes a finger inside, you shake and clench and cry out, gasping harshly as he pumps his fingers. He releases a shaky breath against your core when you arch at another finger. A cry and moan crawl up your throat and spill into the air. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug harshly, earning another deep moan from him.
Your mind is descending. He’s kept a slow place so far but is speeding up. Your moans pitch high and the knot in your stomach grows tighter. Just when you’re about to crash, whirl, die and be reborn, everything stops.
His fingers are gone, mouth is gone, his warmth and it's all cold. Your eyelids slip open to find him, kneeling before you, eyes dark, hands tense, slightly shaking. You want to ask why, why he stopped, why he looks as if he’s been wound so tight that he’ll snap.
He wipes his mouth absently, makes the pit of your stomach whirr. He fixes his dark eyes on you.
“I need…” his voice is hoarse. “I need you on top of me, I need to feel you around me.”
You swallow dryly and sit up. A push of his shoulder to the side and he’s rolling onto the bed, head settling upon the pillow. You straddle him easily, as if you belong there. He’s splayed out underneath you, every inch of his skin in reach, every ribbon of muscle, and every inky curl and dip of tattoos across his body, all for you.
You place a hand on his chest, feel him release a sigh and watch your hand dip with his skin with the movement. He is hard underneath you, and you can feel him getting harder.
“So this is how you’ve always imagined it?” You ask, trailing your hand down his skin, under his navel, to stop at his pants button, watching him shudder.
“Yes,” he breathes, eyes closed. You unbutton him, peel his pants off and provide him with some degree of relief. You straddle him again and lean forward to kiss him deeply. He sinks into the kiss, sighs when you move to kiss down his throat, and then trace his tattoos with your lips.
He reaches up to grip your waist. You stop.
“You can't touch.”
He gazes at you, wide eyed. He seems to want to protest but he swallows it and keeps his hands down.
You smile in victory. You hips rock and grind against him, watch him arch in pleasure. His fingers flex and clench the bedsheets beside him. His eyes are heady,  burning into yours, his jaw clenching.
“You’re not used to this, are you?” You ask softly, removing his boxers to feel his hardness in your hands. He makes a muffled sound, refusing to part his lips. “Having someone tell you what to do?” You ask, stroking him slowly, watching a storm of emotions pass his face. “And you can't say anything back?”
You lift your hips up and sink down on him in one movement. There is a pleasurable burn, but you are more focused on the way he tips his head back and groans, his eyelids clenching shut. His fingers twitch against the sheets, his veined arms straining to not touch you.
“And you’re listening so well,” you praise, feeling him stretch you. You release a shaky breath, swallowing a moan.
“Y/n,” he pants. You gasp as you start moving, slowly, almost too slowly at first. After all these years, you want to revel in the feel of him inside you. He releases a broken moan and thrusts up into you in desperation.
You still immediately. “No doing that, either.”
He groans and rolls his head to the side, gazing at you in need, in exasperation. But his hips stay still when you begin riding him again.
Your heart flutters at him listening to you, the head of a mob, who hasn't taken orders from anyone in a long, long time, turning to putty under your hips. You speed up , breaths turning harsh as you roll and bounce your hips against him.
He pants beneath you, a layer of sweat settling on his tattooed skin, his jaw clenching and sheets crumpled into his fists in an effort to hold back. You admire him, beautiful and unholy beneath you. As you palm your own breasts, you take in the sight of his lust filled, darkened eyes watching every movement you make, burning with need to touch you.
Suddenly, his hands are on your waist, gripping the skin as he thrusts up into you. Pleasure explodes from behind your eyelids as you cry out. Somehow, with all your willpower, you remove yourself completely from him. You straddle him further down his thighs, out of reach of his aching cock.
“Y/n,” he straight up whines. His arms reach for you, brows knitted, eyes pleading. “Please.”
Your resolve almost shatters, but you enjoy seeing him like this too much. You merely shake your head and he huffs, resigning himself.
“Will you behave?”
He seems to glare at the ceiling before nodding without a word. Something thrums in your heart. You settle over him and begin the process anew. You like this, seeing him under you, controlling the pace, making love to him. He groans again, and you lean forward to leave open mouthed kisses down his neck, biting the skin so it makes him shudder. Your hips speed up slightly, moaning into the air as his pants. His fingers strain and clench, his eyelids fluttered closed in concentration. You marvel at his self control.
You think of that too late when he thrusts into you once again. When you slow down, he grasps your sides and gives another thrust. You gasp and remove yourself from him but before your warmth can leave his dick completely, he’s rolling you over, flat on your back against the sheets. He harshly rolls his hips against yours.
“Hyun-“ you moan as he gives another thrust, his head tipping back. He picks up pace, hands roaming your body, his self restraint snapping. “I’ve waited for years,” he moans, leaning forward to litter kisses on your neck. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.”
With a bite of your skin, he’s speeding up his thrusts, sending you clawing at his back. He presses his forehead into yours, working his hips in wonders, has you seeing stars, relentlessly, until you cry out his name, clenching hard around him.
“Oh my god,” he groans at your walls milking him. He swallows your moans with his kisses, thrusts into you a few more times until he’s coming with you.
He collapses against you, one lazy arm propped upon the bed so as to not crush you. Your head is swimming, heart thrumming, feeling the tickle of his hair against your cheek as you catch your breath. Pleasure tingles throughout your entire body. He gives a breathless laugh, plants a kiss to your forehead and rolls away to lie on the sheets beside you.
It’s quiet for a heartbeat before he speaks. “Lets run away together.”
You chuckle, “we’re criminals, Hyunjae.”
“So?” he asks, facing you. His eyes are twinkling once again.
You find your words. “So, we can’t just go anywhere. We will always be wanted by the law. Besides, we should have thought of that before getting involved in this stuff.”
He releases a deep exhale. “You were always my dream, my guiding light, whatever I wanted in life. I just became involved in it because I lost you and I ended up here.”
You look at him, silently. “You never say it’s ‘because I left’, only ‘because you lost me,’.”
He blinks at you. “Because I did.” His hand entangles with your own. “I was too afraid to tell you I love you, and so I lost you.”
You squeeze his fingers. “I was… also too afraid to tell you, so I passed off the responsibility to you by asking that question.”
A smile slowly spreads across his lips. “So you’ve always loved me?”
You smile. “Yes, Hyunjae. I’ve always loved you.”
He scoops you into his arms and pulls you close. He litters kisses over every inch of your face, pulling giggles from your lips.
“So since we can’t run away, how about we call a truce between our… groups?”
“Deal.”
He holds out his pinky. You laugh at the old but familiar gesture. You interlace your pinky with his. “Okay, now, deal.”
He giggles, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “I guess you’ll have to let me go so I can convince them.” His brows furrow. “Hopefully they don’t find this place and charge in.” 
“Don’t worry. You haven’t found this place in years, what is one more day?” 
He smiles. “You always were smarter than me.” 
You roll your eyes playfully. “Do you think they can wait one more day, though?”
Hyunjae thinks on it. “I’ve waited for 8 years. I think they should’ve learned a thing or two from me.” 
586 notes · View notes
azaleavi · 3 years
Text
Baby, show me what it's like - Y.B.
Summary: Dancing with a stranger at a party doesn’t seem like a bad idea. That is until it turns out she is the leader of a motorcycle club.
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, kissing, dancing with a stranger
Author’s note: I don’t really have anything to say lol please let me know what you think about this!
Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!
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The music blasting in the small space shook your whole body as you walked through the crowd following your friends. They dragged you out to party because - in their words - you needed to find someone to take the stress out of your body. College has been hard on you in the last couple of weeks as you had exams after assignments. You were stressed at the time, but since everything has been done you felt fine.
But now you are here at a club that is overstuffed with people. You reach the bar where your friends are already waiting for you. They already ordered way too many shots for you and you feel your stomach turn at the thought of all the alcohol they will make you drink. You want to have fun so you grab the shot glass closest to you and drown it in one shot. They all cheer at your action so you raise the now empty glass to the air before slamming it down the countertop. Another full glass is shoved into your hands and you drink it without hesitation. The alcohol burns as it travels through your body, making you shiver and grimace. You are so going to regret this.
After a few minutes of drinking, they grab your hands and lead you to the dance floor. You roll your eyes as they find a space big enough for you all to fit. You feel the beat course through your body making your hips move. The music and the alcohol combined allow you to let loose. You raise your hands to the air above your head as you sway your hips to the beat.
A few songs come and go and you feel yourself get progressively more carefree and you feel a pair of eyes on your body. If you were sober you might find it creepy but right now you just love the attention. You circle your hips harder and more seductively, hoping that the person staring at you takes his chance. You drag your hands down your body as you lean your head back, baring your neck. Slowly spinning around you show them your full body from every angle, your heart beating rapidly. You have never done this before, but you find it exhilarating.
Biting your lip you close your eyes just as a pair of arms wrap around your waist. A smirk makes its way into your lips as you feel the stranger’s body flush against you. Your eyes are still closed and you don’t want to open them. You want to live in this moment without worrying about who is behind you. The hands splay on your stomach as you lean your head back onto his shoulder. The person behind you is around the same height as you, maybe a little taller. Perfect.
One of the hands leaves your front and it sweeps your hair away from your neck that is closer to his face. Your heart beats at the same time as a soft kiss is left on the skin of your neck. The other hand leads your hips along with his, your mouth opening in a silent moan. The kisses keep being placed on your neck and you turn your head to give him more space. They turn open-mouthed and it makes you grab his hands that are on your stomach. His lips travel up to under your ear and he nips at the skin there. Your hands squeeze his and you hear a low chuckle in your ear, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, making you shiver. You push out your behind to his front which makes his hands squeeze your hips. Two fingers tap on your jaw on the other side of your head and they push you to turn your head towards the person's face whom you still haven't seen.
Your eyes stay closed as you feel him lean over to your lips, but before they can press onto yours, you open your eyes. Your whole body freezes as you realize who is in front of you. A woman. You push her away frantically as you stumble backward, colliding with other people who are unaware of what's happening. You mumble out a sorry which you are sure they don't hear, but you don't care. You almost kissed a woman. And not just any woman. The stranger in front of you is Yelena Belova. The Yelena Belova. Everyone in the city knows her and avoids her as much as they can. She is the leader of the Widow Club. One of the most dangerous people in the area. They all carry guns around, ride motorcycles and wear as much leather as they can. Like she is doing now, as she has a black leather jacket on with leather pants and a simple white t-shirt. It's hot. No, you can't think like that. She is dangerous. And she is looking right at you now.
You gulp as she keeps staring with her eyebrows raised expectantly. She takes a step closer to you and you try to stand your ground on shaky legs. She raises her hand and your eyes warily follow all her movements. The music is still blasting around you, but your ears are ringing as she sweeps your hair out of your face. Your mouth opens slightly and her eyes move down to it from your eyes. You close it quickly when you notice where her attention has shifted.
"What's wrong darling?" her accent surprises you and your body doesn't move as she steps even closer. Her face is a few inches from yours and you can't think of anything else but how gorgeous she is "Hmm?" she makes you feel small even though she is only a few inches taller than you.
"I don't- I can't- I'm not-" you stumble over your words making her smile at your cuteness. You are adorable.
"What is it?" she tilts her head to the side. You know she is talking to you like a baby, but somehow you find yourself liking it.
"I like men" the words fall out of your lips messily and your eyes widen at your own confession. Will she be mad?
"Are you sure?" she squints at you, not quite believing your words. Maybe you don't know yet "Because it seemed to me that you enjoyed yourself a few seconds prior" her smile is kind, but you are having a hard time believing she is being sincere.
"I thought you were a man" you avert your eyes and instead look at the people around you.
"Okay" she swiftly steps back with her hands up in surrender. You look at her in confusion "I don't know how badly you think of me" she begins and you look down on the ground in shame "but I won't push you to do anything" she gives you a small smile and then she is out of your sight, the crowd swallowing her. She is gone just like that. You stand there in shock as you try to process what happened. You spoke to one of the most feared people in the city. What is more, you danced with her and almost kissed her. And it was hot. Wait, no. It wasn't. It's just the alcohol in your system that makes you think like this.
You shake your head to clear your head, but it doesn't help much. Looking around you find your friends a few feet away from you, clearly not knowing what just happened. You walk over to them and tell them that you don't feel too good and you want to go home. You say your goodbyes and leave the place to flag down a taxi to finally go home and spend a sleepless night tossing and turning in your bed with a certain woman on your mind.
-
A whole week passes by and you still haven't forgotten about your almost kiss with Yelena. It's been on your mind every day since it happened and you found yourself fantasizing about what would have happened if you didn't stop. It's been annoying you the whole time, but you refused to dwell on it for too long. Until now.
You can't think of anyone else but her, even when a man is right in front of you. You can't kiss anyone without her face being the one that pops up in your mind. You don't understand what she did to you, but something is not right and you know how you can make it go away. You just have to kiss her and you are good. You don't know what it would be like and that's why you can't think about it. That has to be it. It's the only explanation.
Thus you decided to go to the place normal people wouldn't think of going. The Widow Club's place.
As you reach the old building your stomach contracts, your heart beating rapidly. Sweat coats your palms as you walk through the gate and into the yard that stretches in front of the building. Every head turns to you which makes you stop in your tracks, your fake confidence faltering.
"What do you want?" one of the women shouts at you which makes you slightly vince. They all laugh at your reaction.
"I'm looking for Yelena Belova" you speak back loud enough for them to hear. The woman who spoke to you raises her eyebrows and stands up from where she was sitting fixing her bike. She opens her mouth to speak but a door to her right opens and out walks the woman you are looking for. You unconsciously straighten your spine as she looks you up and down and you see recognition in her eyes. She remembers you.
"Come in" she looks into your eyes and you quickly walk toward her. She lets you walk through the open door first and you find yourself in a small office. Shelves line the wall to your right and a table with two chairs on either side of it is in the middle of the room.
Turning around you find Yelena flipping someone off outside the room before turning to you and closing the door behind her.
"So what do you want?" she sits down on her chair and motions for you to do the same across the table. You follow her and sit down. You inhale deeply and the air leaves your lungs in a long sigh.
"What did you do to me?" you look into her striking eyes and you almost lose yourself in it.
"What?" she leans forward to rest her elbows on the table.
"What did you do to me?" you repeat yourself a little slower.
"No I understood what you said, I just don't know what you mean" she shakes her head with a small smile on her lips. The lips you couldn't stop thinking about the past week. You clear your throat and look away from her face.
"Why can't I stop thinking about you and our almost kiss?" you steel yourself as you let the words fall from your lips. Maybe she has the answer to the question that has been burning you. She stares at you for a few seconds without moving at all and you start to feel uncomfortable.
"Are you serious?" she bursts out laughing out of nowhere. She falls back into her chair and now it's your turn to stare at her. Her laugh. Oh god her laugh is the most wonderful sound you have ever heard. When she quiets down a little she stands up and walks around the table to your side. You lean back as she places her hands on either side of you on the chair. Your gulp is visible to her and she tilts her head to the side in wonder.
"Are you scared of me?" she looks into your wide eyes, her voice is soft.
"No" your answer is quick and it comes out without thinking. Without knowing you ease her worries with just that one word.
"Does your heart beat faster when I'm this close?" she leans in closer and you suck in a breath which answers enough for her "You said you keep thinking about me" she grabs your arms to pull you up into a standing position "Well, I keep thinking about you too" she guides you to lean your back against the table and you let her move you however she wants. Her words leave you speechless, your heart drumming against your ribs in anticipation. She places her hands on either side of you on the table, caging you in.
"What do you want me to do about it?" her face comes closer to yours, her eyes not leaving your lips, and all of your resolves disappear.
"Kiss me" these two words are all she needs before her lips crash into yours. Your arms wrap around her neck to pull her closer as her tongue swipes across your bottom lip and your mouth opens to give her access. She explores your mouth making both of you moan into the fervent kiss. You know she is experienced from the way she moves her lips against yours and it only makes you even more frustrated in the best way.
She pulls away from you after a few seconds, eliciting a groan from you. Your eyes stay closed as you relish the feeling of being kissed by her for the first time. She places her thumb on your lips which makes you open your eyes. Her orbs are full of emotions you can't quite grasp yet, but you want to learn all of them. You lean toward her, but stop before you could kiss her again. Your mind is a mess and you can only think about her and her soft lips right now.
"Again?" the cheeky smile on her face leaves you breathless and you can only nod in response. She lets out a small chuckle before pressing her lips to yours again. Your noses bump against each other as her hands grasp your waist. Your fingers tangle in her blonde hair as she shifts her body flush against yours. Her hands find the back of your thighs to help you sit up onto the desk, knocking over everything in your way. Pencils fall on the ground along with their holder amidst loud clangs, but neither of you cares. She stands between your open legs, her lips not leaving yours for a second. You feel her palms brush the skin of your thighs and your mind goes into a frenzy.
A knock sounds from the door and you immediately pull away from her startled by the sudden interruption. Leaning her forehead against your shoulder she groans which makes you giggle. Pressing one last kiss on your lips she walks to the door and opens it.
"This better be important" her voice is authoritative and you are glad she doesn't see you as you bite your lip and clench your thighs together. God, she is so hot.
"Sorry boss we just heard some loud noises and we wanted to check on you to see if you were okay" you can hear the voice of the woman who spoke to you before, now it's laced with a smile as if she can barely hold back from bursting out laughing. They must be close.
"Fuck off" Yelena scoffs at her and she finally lets out the laugh she has been holding back. She slams the door in the woman's face and she turns back to you while shaking her head with a smile on her face. You lean back onto your hands on the table and tilt your head to the side as you watch her mumble under her breath. You catch a few idiots and I should be more strict which makes you smile. Is this the big, feared leader of the Widow Club? People don't know the real her it seems.
Her eyes find yours and she just looks at you for a few seconds. She has stunning eyes. In a few long strides, she is in front of you again, her hands on your legs.
"So how was that pretty girl?" her nose brushes yours which makes a small whine escape the confines of your lips. You avert your eyes bashfully after the sound you make. You seem way too needy.
"Did you like it?" her thumb brushes your cheek and your heartbeat speeds up at the tender touch "Did it answer your question?"
"Yes" the word comes out breathy "to both of them" your answer makes her chuckle.
"And what is the answer?" she pushes you.
"I want more" you confess while closing your eyes. You are too scared to see her reaction and it seems too real now that you said it out loud. You've never thought of any woman like this before.
"More of what?" her thumb keeps stroking your cheek making it hard to think straight.
"You" you keep your eyes closed because you know you would get lost in her orbs if you freed yours.
"Me?" the surprise in her voice is unmistakable and it makes you open your eyes.
"Yes, you" you nod confidently "I want to get to know you" you decide to tell her how you feel, and the smile that lights up her face is worth embarrassing yourself. She slams her lips onto yours making you grab her arm so you don't fall backward. Her kiss is hurried as she pours all her emotions into it and you feel like the whole room is spinning around you.
Pulling away the adorable smile makes its way back to her face and you feel your insides turn into mush at how endearing she is.
"I can't wait to get to know you" you laugh as she holds out her hand for you to shake.
"Yelena Belova" she introduces herself and you tell her your name in return.
"I think we will have a lot of fun together" her smile turns cheeky and you feel your face heat up at the implication of her words.
You can't wait to learn everything about the person most people know by reputation and you are glad you get the opportunity to be close to her. Who needs men when you have a woman like this next to you?
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yandere-sins · 3 years
Note
i just binged-read all of your BNHA works and omg... 🥲 you don’t understand the rollercoaster of emotions i just went through! can i please request a story of Kirishima noticing that Bakugou has a crush on his darling. then when Kirishima confronts Bakugou about it, things get heated/physical? keep up the good work, i love your writings! 🥰💗
Thank you so much for reading through them, I am so glad you enjoyed them! :D And thanks for requesting ♥
»»———————— ♡ ————————««     
“I don’t fucking know either!”
Loud. Terribly loud were the two voices shouting at each other in your room, the little bit of safe haven you owned, entirely disrupted by the two men arguing. It was only made worse by the fact that they were arguing about you rather than anything else, their attention involuntarily always coming back to you after every sentence.
You had long ducked away, slipped into the area between the wall and your bed, the only place you had claimed as yours ever since you were forced to live here. It was barely spacious enough for you to breathe in, but it was too small to force you out of as well, which you always appreciated. On most days, Kirishima would treat you kindly and with a strange understanding despite the situation and relationship you two had.
But just as quickly did his mood change, his tendencies to demand more than you were willing to give being a constant point of stress between you two. Hiding yourself back here was the closest to some privacy you had, and now than ever, you just wanted to disappear from this pitiful existence. You didn’t even want to hear about what they were talking, let alone witness how the conversation would go.
“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of all the people...”
“Yes. Of all the people, it just had to be my partner you fell in love with,” Kirishima hissed back, equally angered. You couldn’t even pinpoint for how long the two had been discussing this topic, but it left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, as it seemed. Sighing quietly as to not draw more attention to you, you buried your head in your knees.
For the longest time, you had believed those two were good people. Sure, Bakugou was a hot-headed bastard sometimes, but together with Kirishima, who shone with his kindness, you three always had a lot of fun. When Kiri confessed to you, you had been so happy! What you thought was love probably was more like a deep friendship, but you didn’t say ‘no’ and went out with him.
But then the craziness started. It was subtle at first, and you confided in Bakugou, who told you, you were just imagining things. No one seemed to notice how Kirishima started to polarize your time constantly, how, when he wanted cuddles, he simply pulled you into an embrace even if you didn’t want to. How every problem was solved with ‘Just don’t go there anymore, you can stay here! I’ll take care of everything!’
You very quickly found out you had been wrong both with him being a good person and you being in love with him. But then, of all people, he still allowed Bakugou to come over! Where he kept you locked in his apartment all day while he played hero outside, he still allowed your friend to visit whenever. Seeing that Bakugou was not going to help you, no matter how much you pleaded with him to save you, broke your heart. It completely shattered you.
Honestly, you wanted to believe that you three had been friends once, but whatever happened to make the two into what they were now, it scared you. It frightened you so much that you barely slept at night, rarely managed to eat more than two spoons of your food, and rendered you unable to focus on anything if not ensuring you were safe when things got too much to bear. And now, your body shaking more than ever, you had to witness how even Bakugou seemed to have changed sides, and that scared you even more.
You thought he was just loyal to his friend by refusing to help you, but by god, he was the same as that maniac Kirishima.
“Look, I didn’t choose that either! But you knew I liked them way before you confessed!”
At that, Kirishima only clicked his tongue, unable to say anything in return to counter this claim. So it was right, Bakugou had liked you all along. All these things about Kirishima’s and your love life must have been so painful for him to listen to in this case. However, right then, as you overheard their conversation unwillingly, you didn’t feel bad for him even a second.
“I wish it was anyone else, but it’s them!”
“Well, are you sure?” Kirishima grumbled, and you kind of understood Bakugou’s frustration as his friend didn’t seem to want to hear the truth. “Yes, I am damn sure!”
“If that’s the case...” Kirishima sighed before you heard steps drawing closer. “[Name]? Can you come out? You know it’s rude not to show your cute face to our guest.”
Even if he spoke his words in a sugary voice, nothing about Kirishima could calm you. Slowly looking up at him again, you saw him reach his hand out to you, knowing fully well that he couldn’t get you out of that gap even if he probably wanted. The mood in the room was tense and full of heated tempers. Their back and forth had only made everything more awkward and uncomfortable as it already was for you.
Inwardly, you wanted nothing more than to stay in your hideout, hoping it would all quickly pass, but crossing Bakugou’s gaze briefly, you saw his brows only furrow more, and you wagered if taking Kirishima’s offer was better as long as he still asked nicely before either of them would lose their patience with you, too.
Slipping out of the space without taking his help, it wasn’t long before Kirishima picked you up anyway. The man had as much understanding about boundaries as you had about what even was wrong with him. He sat you down in his lap on the couch, waving Bakugou over, who reluctantly took a seat on the furthest armrest from you.
“Tell him, [Name]. You love me, right? You want to be with me, right?”
Opening your mouth, you wanted to protest, but Bakugou stole the words from you before you could talk.
“Bullshit! They’ve always been complaining because you suck at being a boyfriend! They could do so much better and be with me, right [Name]? Tell that idiot!”
You felt like a dog, with both owners screaming at their furbaby to chose them and go to the one it likes more.
Their back-and-forth continued, Kirishima swearing his love to you up and down while Bakugou praised his abilities to be better in... every way. Kirishima liked to remind you how much ‘fun’ you two had together and how much he did and would do for you in the future. Bakugou liked to argue with his friend, using insults and belittling comments about his plans. Neither made a very good impression, and their voices rose to a volume again, making you wish you had earplugs to drown out at least a little bit of their shouting.
Instead, you lifted your hands to your ears, cupping them as to drown out the sounds, hoping it was over soon. Why couldn’t they both leave you alone? Why did you have to end up in this situation, not once, but twice? Why did the two best friends you had turned out to be this crazy? Crazy about you?
There still were so many questions to be answered, and you curled into yourself as you spiraled down into overthinking everything that happened. From regrets you had, to disbelieve you still harbored, to the despair you felt as you couldn’t pinpoint when this nightmare would end.
You were so inside your own head, you didn’t notice how their voices slowly calmed down, their hearts breaking as they saw you so overwhelmed by the situation. Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a few glances, and even in Bakugou’s serious and furious expression, there were hints of worries to find that only his friends could discern.
“How about you move in with us... and maybe they can make a decision then. Not that I’d just give them to you, but I can’t watch them being sad about us fighting. You always meant a lot to us.”
Huffing, Bakugou turned his head away, hiding the flustered red spreading on his cheeks. “I won’t share with you, you Dumbass! They’re mine. They love me much more than you freak!”
“Doubt it,” Kirishima chuckled as he brought his hand to your head, brushing over it comfortingly. He had never been afraid to say his opinion openly, a trait you had always found remarkable and remarkable stupid at the same time. “Whatever,” Bakugou grunted, standing up before storming out of the door without another word of goodbye, Kirishima sighing before he pulled you close.
“I hope this makes you happy,” he mumbled, not even knowing you weren’t listening anymore. “I’d do anything if it makes you happy.”
By the evening, a new roommate was sharing the apartment with you and Kirishima. They didn’t talk, neither at dinner nor before or after that. You didn’t mind the silence, but you did mind having to hold one hand of each as they decided to watch a movie, ever so often squeezing to gain your attention and giving you grins when you looked at them. As if that equaled making a decision which you liked better, just because they had a few seconds of your attention.
But even worse were the changes. The first thing Bakugou did was move the bed. Your hideout was no longer as he decided you didn’t need it. And where you had struggled to keep Kiri from you, you now were too scared to shove away Bakugou. Perhaps, you really had it nice with Kirishima. You pondered about it all night as you were squeezed between them, their arguing going deep into the early hours before they fell asleep, snoring away into your ears.
Would it have been easier if you had just chosen one of them?
Or would it be fatal to ever choose between them?
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hnychn · 3 years
Text
𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄
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pairing: poly! bakusquad x gn! reader
summary: why settle for one lover when you could have five? 
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 🐝: ugh i love the idea of all five of these assholes in one relationship !! it just makes my heart 😫. lmk what you thought of it, i appreciate any constructive criticism that'll help me improve 🤍 i'm also working on a shoto work next so!! PS. this ended up being a lot longer than i thought, so i'll be making it into diferent parts!
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞
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ur their baby
sorry
don't make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️
so first and foremost, how you became a part of their relationship.
surprisingly, it was bakugo who brought up the idea to the others 😳
you're not in 1a, but you are in the support class. you make them gadgets 😌
and bakugo met you when the last student who was supposed to be responsible for his costume design and other shit refused to work with bakugo anymore
that was the sixth guy to quit
so you offered to pick up his work 😌
otherwise the storyline wouldn't continue
so bakugo goes to you after school and is like, "listen here you fucking extra-"
and that's as far as he got before you interrupted him and was like:
"no yOU listen you hot-headed cyndaquil! the only reason you should be talking to me is if you want to submit a request for your costume. other than that, don't look at me. don't speak to me. don't even breathe near me. GOT IT?!"
and he was just. . .😳 damn
highkey thought your yelling was hot
so the weeks pass and surprisingly he listens to you and doesn't speak to you outside of making requests for his costume or giving feedback
and your relationship with him is relatively stable
you're not friends but you can live together without ripping each other apart
there's a term for it but i forget what it is
he starts coming by more often because there's a kink in one of your gadgets
so you ask him to stay after school to test it out and figure out what the problem is
you end up talking
and you realise he's not as much of an asshole as you thought he was
and your relationship turns into more of a "friendship" but not if that makes sense?
like, "ok so i don't hate you, but i still hate you."
does that make sense? i how it does
anyways,
the two of you start saying hi in the halls or nodding at each other
bakugo's babies see this and are like ??
yOU MADE A FREND??
yes. yes he did 😌
so kirishima and mina try and convince him to introduce them to you
"why would i introduce you to that dumbass? they're nothing special."
he doesn't mean it, he's just flustered.
so kirishima, mina, kaminari, and sero start looking out for you in the halls
and they start picking up on your routine
without knowing they basically know your schedule
it's bakugo who points it out when kirishima said it was time to go
🦈 "oh! it's time to go guys!"
💥 "why? lunch isn't even over yet"
⚡️ "y/n usually goes to that vending machine by their art class during this time"
💥 ". . . how do you fuckers know that?"
and they're all silent like. . . how do they know that?
that's when it hits then that without them knowing, you slipped your way into their heart
because here they were,
right next to the vending machine where you always go 20 minutes before lunch ended to get a small snack
and when you get there and see bakugo surrounded by a bunch of people looking at you with starry eyed
". . . hi?"
mina lunges at you and asks how the hell you tamed bakugo
"easy, i beat his ass."
"NO YOU DIDN'T YOU FUCKER!"
and you just snort at his reaction and put some coins into the vending machine
"why do you think your gauntlet backfired yesterday, dumbass?"
and he blanks like. . .wait. . . wAIT A MINUTE
"THAT WAS YOU?!"
you nod, "wish i was there to see it though."
and you pout
fUCKING.
POUT.
and they all just feel their heart go doki doki
so the bell rings for class to start and you say goodbye to them and kaminari promises to show you the video he took of bakugo's gauntlet backfiring tmr at lunch
and while they're walking to class, none of them are talking
which is very unusual
but they all know their thoughts are only of you
it's kind of like an unspoken agreement that they're all falling for you
they have a hard time paying attention in class that day.
OK NEXT DAY!!
so you rush over to the bakusquad and practically throw yourself at kaminari
because you wanna see that video
you don't notice he's a blushing mess and the others are staring a bit bitterly because
:I i want that
so he shows you the video and you start laughing so hard
and it's so contagious and soon they're all laughing
except bakugo because he refuses to laugh at himself
but they suddenly hear someone calling your name
and you all look over and see some guy who's also from general studies
they see you roll your eyes and mutter, "fucking hell" under your breath
so it's safe to assume you don't like this guy.
"hey l/n."
"hey tanaka. . ."
the boy shoves his hands in his pockets, "so about that date saturday-"
you might have slapped the bakusquad in the face with a fish because holy-
they never considered you were seeing anyone and now they're kinda heartbroken because oop-
caught feelings too quick 🙊
but you grind your teeth, "it's not a date tanaka. the teacher paired us up for a project because he knows you're so incapable of doing anything on your own you have to be watched like a child."
anD WHOO BOY THEY WERE NOT EXPECTING THAT
kaminari snorts a bit before slapping a hand over his mouth
mina grabs kirishima's arm and burries her face into his jacket to stifle her laughs
kirishima and sero and just staring at each other with wide eyes and slowly growing smiles like "bro did they just say that?" "dude i think they did!"
and bakugo. . .
he's staring at you with the proudest look in his eyes and a smirk because yeah, that's his baby
wait what.
now the boy is a bit embarrassed that you said that in front of some of the school's top heroes
so he sputters a bit before walking away with a red face
💥 "damn i didn't know you had that in you, spit fire."
you stare at him a bit with a small blush at the nickname
and you sputter out a thanks before making an excuse to leave (something about banana milk)
and they all stare at each other
⚡️ ". . .did they . ."
🦈 "was that a-"
🍊 "holy fuck that was-"
💥 "-adorable."
mina is took shocked to say anything
during this time, you bang to realise your feelings for the group as well
but you thought you were being selfish for wanting all five of them
so you kind of avoid them for the next few days in hopes of your feelings going away
you change up your schedule
and when you see them or one of then in the halls you turn around and go another direction
they were a bit confused as to what they did
but kirisima assured them that you were probably just working out your feelings and they should respect that
so they did
and they pretended it didn't hurt when you suddenly dart the other way when you see one of them
they gave you your space
and they thought you would come to them when you had everything worked out
until bakugo cane storming into the dorms one day
he was obviously pissed, but his eyes were also a bit glossy
so they all dragged him to kirishima's room since it was closest and asked him was was wrong
💥 "that dumbass quit from making my items."
and they were all kind of shocked
like wtf ??
uhm, for why?
you had assured bakugo that you wouldn't be another one of those losers who resigned because of his eccentric personality
and yet here we are
they spend the rest of the night in kirishima' room comforting bakugo
because he really took it the hardest
like sure the others liked you too,
but bakugo spent the most time with you
and developed a deeper relationship with you than the others
so the next day,
kirishima wants to talk to you
so he goes to the support room and bumps into hatsume as she was walking out
he asks her if you're in
"oh, yeah they are, I'll go get them for you."
this is a lot longer than i thought it would be uhhh oops
so you come out, not knowing it was kirishima asking for you because hatsume was vague
only telling you, "someone wants to talk to you"
like ok specifics??
anyways
you're like. . . oop heyyy. . .
because you knew what he was there for
the two of you don’t say anything for a bit
you’re just staring at your shoes and he’s looking at you with a small frown on his face 
lowkey he’s kinda disappointed in you
so he finally speaks first
“you quit.” 
it’s not a question, or something you were expecting 
but you nod 
there’s another silence 
“why?” 
you fiddle with your fingers for a bit. 
now this was a question you were expecting, though, you didn’t want to answer 
kirishima is a patient boy though, and waits for you to gather the courage to tell him 
he’s not leaving without an answer
“i just-” you begin, “i. . .” 
kirishima is still waiting patiently for your answer 
“i don’t want to be selfish.” 
now he surprised. wdym selfish. please explain.
“it’s just- you all already have such an established relationship and i don’t want to interrupt that. you guys have a schedule. adding myself into the mix would only mess all of that up, and no matter how strong my feelings are for all of you, i could never mess up your relationship like that. it would be so selfish of me to put my feelings before all of yours, so i thought the only way to get rid of these feeling as to distance myself from all of you...” 
“starting with bakugo...” kirishima whispered after your rambling came to an end. 
you nodded 
kiri was at a stand still for a bit 
and it was silent once again in the hall
kiri knew his lovers had feelings for you too, and would have no problem adding you into the relationship, 
but he also knew he couldn’t fore you into anything 
he was about to reassure you that you wouldn’t be interrupting anything and that they would love to have you in the relationship 
but then you were tackled 
to the ground 
by kaminari 
and smacked your head against the floor
really hard
like, you passed out 
ahaha. . .
when you wake up, your head feels like it’s going to split open
and the loud voices aren’t helping 
so you let out a groan, “shut the fuck up...” 
and everything goes silent. 
until someone SCREAMS AGAIN
“YOU’RE AWAKE!” 
it’s kaminari 
bless his soul
poor baby is a bit slow 
so you groan out again and clutch your head
bakugo slaps the back of kaminari’s head
“shut the fuck up, dunce face!” 
he whisper shouts
mina hands you some pain killers recovery girl said you give you when you woke up, and sero hands you a glass of water 
they’re all watching you as you take the pills 
it’s silent for a bit 
and it’s making you anxious, so you fiddle with the empty glass for a bit before bakugo snatches it from you, 
“dumbass...” he muttered as he refilled it and handed it back to you
sero rubs the back of his head, “so...” 
mina pulls at the hem of her sweater, “we heard everything you said to kirishima.” 
kaminari sits next to you on the bed and whispers, “sorry for tackling you. i just got a bit emotional...” 
I'm so sorry this is getting so long 😭😭 i'm trying to wrap this up so if it gets a bit jumbled, my bad
so they all reassyre you you're more than welcome into their relationship and wouldn't be interfering with anything
so you agree
and they're all so happy 🥳🥳
and while everyone is celebrating
(quietly because your head still feels like shit)
bakugo comes up to you
"you better start making my items again, dumbass. those other dipshits in your class don't know what they're doing."
bakugo only said that because they weren't you but he'd never outright say that to you
OK ITS OVER OH MY
IT GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY LMAO
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skiyoosmi · 3 years
Text
if fate permits
⤷ chapter twenty six: spotlight
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It was no surprise to people who always saw Atsumu that his eyes were constantly filled with a glitter that just managed to shine regardless of whether it was day or night. Volleyball, volleyball, and volleyball - perhaps, if you take time to ask these people what they think is the reason for that glitter, that would be their only answer. To those who truly knew him though, their answer might just be a tad bit different. Sakusa YN - from the moment he met you up to the present, a certain gleam seems to appear whenever you are the center of the topic. At least, that’s what Osamu has observed.
Kiyoomi concluded it’s just him unconsciously being a hopeless romantic for you. The grey haired lad remembers him saying it was pathetic, as always. But then again, he couldn’t deny the truth behind your brother’s words.
That said, he also knows that no one would have expected the same set of bright eyes to dull its sparkle. Unfortunately for the two of them (or three if you count Kiyoomi based on how often he visits the two of them now), you managed to take it away from him. There in the couch where you once sat during movie nights laid Atsumu, staring at the endless nothing, tears occasionally welling up his eyes as he remembers you, the way you looked at him as strangers do - empty, loveless, cautious.
It was karma. No matter how many times he tries to repeat it himself, it just doesn’t ease the thorns that prick his heart every millisecond that passes and every time, he just feels so sorry because he knows you felt the same pain before. How have you managed to get through it for more than twenty years? He has no idea because he sure as hell won’t be able to last one more day with it. Still, he can’t do anything but sit, mull over his self-sabotaged fate.
As he drowns himself deeper into his misery, a series of vigorous knocks disturb the twins’ “peace.” Osamu furrows his eyebrows together, a sense of oddness and urgency coming to him because Kiyoomi doesn’t knock that way - even when it comes to announcing his presence, your brother tries to be as prim and respectful as possible, knocking only thrice before waiting for the door to be opened, another three when he thinks no one heard him from the inside. Hence why the continuous knocks annoyed the grey haired.
Still, he begrudgingly sauntered towards the door and opened it, mouth ready to scold the person in front of him but he got beaten to it, “Where’s Atsumu?”
In her usual get up, Yui stood, a very much obvious fake smile plastered on her face and Osamu wanted nothing but to grab her hair and drag her to the deepest parts of hell for making you suffer (no one gets to do that except for him, he’s the only one who has the ‘drinking buddy and best friend’ privilege’).
Mentally, he took a deep breath before mustering the most sincere smile he can give her (it’s strained and forced, he knows it deep down), “Hello, Yui-san. I don’t think today’s the best day to-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Yui shoved past him and walked inside the house, acting as if she owned it. Osamu watched her trudge her way towards the living room in disbelief, fists clenching so hard it was painful already. Oh dear lord, please… just for today, let me strangle this woman… I’m willing to spend the rest of my life in jail if it means I get to do that for YN.
“Atsumu-kun!” She squeals upon seeing the blonde, ungracefully throwing her whole body to him, much to his shock (and annoyance).
“Y-Yui? What the fuck?” He shoves her away from him and backs up, creating a space which makes Osamu cheer quietly and form a devilish smile. Obviously not expecting the unappreciated response to her actions, she huffs, “You didn’t have to push me that hard, jerk Atsumu! That hurt me!”
“Yui-san…” Atsumu sighed exasperatedly, “I’m not in the mood, okay? Just… just leave, please?”
Yui’s smile disappears from her face and soon, an angry expression replaces it, “You’re such an ungrateful asshole, Miya. I’m busy and here I am, making time for you and you’re telling me to leave? Me?! THE Yui you wanted so much before? How dare y-”
“I didn’t ask you to come here, didn’t I? Just fucking read the room, Yui. I don’t like you here, not right now, not ever. I’m sorry but whatever I thought before, I was wrong. So just fucking leave,” he spat, patience running dry because all he wanted was sulk his life away in the couch.
As if finally being enlightened by the current situation, Yui begins to laugh, “Oh. my. god. Did she finally tell you? Wait… did she actually cut your thread? That’s why you look so miserable right now?”
Atsumu stands up from the couch, disbelief all over his face, “You knew?!”
The girl continues to holler her ugly laugh, “Ah, so hilarious! Of fucking course, Atsumu! One look at her pathetic face and I knew. Hell, I didn’t even need a Moira to figure it out. It was so fun, acting all sweet with the clueless you… and there she is, on the verge of tears every time!”
She wipes the fake tears away from her eyes, “But I guess she got tired too. I mean… you’re just so dumb, Atsumu. So hopeless and so easy to play with,” her fingers trace his jawline, rolling her eyes and snickering when he slapped it away from him.
“Now that I think about it again, you two shouldn’t have played Cinderella. You fit more into the criteria of Sleeping Beauty… you’re like Aurora, was it? But like, without the cure of a kiss because you ruined your true love! That’s my curse for you!”
The blonde grits his teeth, tears uncontrollably falling down his cheeks despite his desperation to stop them. Yui sees it and lets out a fake coo, “Aww, look at you, crying. You must be feeling so guilty, huh? It’s okay, I’m here… I can be the princess you’ve always wanted. You just have to behave like the foolish little prince you are.”
Osamu curses, taking a step forward to drag the girl out of their home but a voice stops him from doing so, “Is it fun? Playing with people’s fates like toys?”
Yui and Atsumu whip their head towards the source of the voice and Osamu is filled with relief upon seeing your brother standing, an unamused look on his face. Clearly liking the attention she was getting, Yui replies, “Ooh, what are you all? Avengers for YN? Protection squad or something? But to answer your question, yes! I’m enjoying it very much… but that doesn’t concern you, does it, Sakusa-kun?”
Kiyoomi paused for a second, removing his shoes and leaving them by the door, walking nearer the two, not too close but just enough to show her his height and intimidate her somehow, “You’re right, it doesn’t. If anything, I’m glad it’s all over now so my sister doesn’t have to suffer in between your acts of foolishness. But for some reason,” he trails off, looking down at her and throwing a look of disgust, “I pity you - because your fate is just as fucked up as theirs - your soulmate doesn’t remember you too and looking at you right now, something is telling me that you regret it too… because you have no one left. No Iwaizumi, no Atsumu.”
Judging by the way she glared at him, Kiyoomi feels a sense of accomplishment for hitting right on the nail.
“You-!”
“How unfortunate, Yui-san… the spotlight is not on you anymore.”
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Silence filled the house right after Yui rapidly walked out of the house, a string of curses for your brother flowing out of her mouth. But Kiyoomi couldn’t care any less; instead, he turns to Atsumu who was already looking at him in awe before snapping off his thoughts and mumbling, “Omi… uhm… thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” is the only thing he replies, “I won’t do anything for you...”
Atsumu swallows harshly, the bitter truth making it hard for him to do so, “Right.”
“... at least not anymore after this one,” he finishes, handing the blonde some neatly folded documents. Osamu smiles from where he stood, side-leaning against the doorway leading to the kitchen, as if he already had an idea what the papers were for. His twin’s eyes scan them and as if by a miracle, a familiar glitter appears in them, accompanied by a hopeful expression as he lifts his head and looks at your brother.
“Omi, this…”
“Be ready in three months. I hope you’re not scared of riding planes.”
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note. i'm so sorry for the very very long gap between these updates T_T i swear i'll try to update more frequently now, at least school's being less of an ass these days (don't say sike pls)
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