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pidge-it-up-archive · 8 months

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i won't do the dance (but we can dance together)

[Good Omens Season 2 Spoilers - 2,559k words - read on AO3]

“Oh, excuse me. Sorry, I must- Oh, please be careful, sir, I’ve kept this coat in pristine condition until now, I- Oh, my.” The angel sighed in defeat. Of course, no demon would ever care about how clean his suit have been for years, or would ever do the kindness of stepping aside so he could get around easier.

Aziraphale really couldn’t blame them. He too would be grumpy if he were to live under these situations. The smell was awful, in a way no human or divine language could describe. And it was hot, but not just “temperature” hot. More like the train on a hot day with no air conditioning or windows, during rush hour, full of constructor workers who haven’t showered in forever, millennia after millennia.

The first, and only, time he was here, his mind was somewhere else entirely. He was so focused on not ruining things, on following the plan, and not being discovered that everything else faded from existence. But now he was an outsider and incredibly lost, so everything was overwhelming.

For half a second, Aziraphale thought about taking a deep breath to calm himself down — a habit he had developed after so many years living within humans, even if oxygen was unnecessary for him — but was able to stop himself by the miracle act of “thinking things through”. He settled for only counting to 7 in his mind. He got this.

He walked through the crowded corridor for… he doesn’t know how long, honestly. Time in Hell is substantially different from time in Heaven or Earth. Felt like a lot, though. Too much.

But then, finally, he reached a more open (not less crowded) space, a bigger hall that led to multiple directions. “Oh, bugger. Maybe this is a terrible idea. He couldn’t be… He wouldn’t be-”

“Angel.”

Aziraphale shuddered. How wrong it was coming out of anyone’s but his mouth. He turned around. “Hello, yes?”

“You are an angel. You are not supposed to be here” The demon was a few inches shorter than Aziraphale, skin pale like an albino lizard.

Aziraphale smiled politely. “Yes, I’m highly aware of that.”

“How did you get here?”

“You see, it was actually quite easy, I always thought it would be harder. All I had to do was take the elevator down, and it led straight here. A huge security breach, if you ask me. For both our sides.”

“Right, yeah, sure. What do you want?”

“Oh, right!” Aziraphale shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “I-”

“He’s probably looking for his boyfriend.” A voice came from behind him. Aziraphale had to give his all to now roll his eyes to the back of his head as he turned once more to face another demon, one familiar this time.

“I- I wouldn’t put it like that. He’s not-”

“Heh, of course you wouldn’t. Neither would he, I believe.” Furfur grinned, the two tips of his tongue flaring out for a second. “Hello, Aziraphill.”

The angel’s jaw locked. He didn’t like the demon’s tone. “For the last time, it’s Azirap-”

“Don’t care. So, was I right?” Furfur rounded him with a mocking interest. “Are you here for you dear, well, ex?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath, too angry to even care about the foul odor that made his eyes sting. He had to, or all his angelicness would go down the drain as soon as he closed his fist. “Is Crowley here?”

“What if he is?”

“Is he, or not?” The angel’s tone came out harsh, and as he spoke, a tiny eye opened with an incandescent blue iris staring down the demon, right below his right eye. It blinked, and it was gone just as fast. But Furfur saw the rage it held.

“Y- Yes. He is.”

“Take me to him.”

The demon grimaced. “Follow me.”

As the demon turned away, Aziraphale deflated. So Crowley is here, after all. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

For years, he had followed Crowley's steps from Heaven, looking after him the best way he could. And god, was it hard. Maybe the hardest thing he had done in ages. Because in the first few years they were apart, Crowley slept. He got his apartment back and as soon as it was all back into place, he got under the covers and slept.

It broke Aziraphale to see it happening. It broke him when he would check on him and he had tears accumulated at the corner of his eyes. But there was nothing he could do. Both have chosen their path, and Aziraphate wasn't going to back down on his decision. He couldn't, not when he knew what was at stake.

So he settled for this torturing "routine" for 3 years. He would do his work and then, once a month (or a week) (or day, depending on how anxious he was feeling), he would check on Crowley.

But then, one day, when he tuned in to check on Crowley, he was gone. He then tried the bookshop, then the park, then the Ritz, then TaddfieId, then everywhere they had the tiniest history together, then the stars. He even went as far as to check a few zoos for a particular black snake. But every time, everywhere, all he found was nothing.

After 4 years of fruitless searching he had to face his least favorite outcome (of course, his real least favorite was actually far too terrible to even think about and, therefore was completely ignored): Crowley was back in hell.

Well. Fine. Again, they both made their choice.

But then, a meeting with the archangels and the Metraton happened, and their plan was laid out, and it was terrible, and all his opinion and thoughts were dismissed as nothing, and then, finally, after 7 years, he understood. And God, how he hated himself. How he despised how stupid he had been. He had been played with beautifully, and everyone else had seen the strings but him.

"Supreme Archangel". Nothing supreme about it. He had less power than the queen of England.

So as soon as he left the meeting, he made a B-line to the elevator and pressed "Down" with a capital D.

As he followed Furfur, his mind raced with billions of scenarios, a few more likely than others. What would it be like, to see Crowley after all this time? Sure, this wasn't the longest period of time they had apart, but their separation was very… unique this time. What would Crowley do? Would he turn him away?

And what would he even say? Where would, could, he even start?

"Here we are," Furfur's voice brought him back to the present.

"Oh," The angel stopped almost too late, not bumping into the demon by an inch.

Aziraphale looked up. They were in front of an old large wooden door, with rusty iron patterns adorning it. It was antique and resembled the old doors they had in heaven before the place took a more clean design approach. It must have been beautiful, once. Maybe it was still beautiful even if it was almost falling apart, but Aziraphale didn't know if calling something beautiful in Hell even made sense.

"Worst of luck, Azripastel," Furfur grinned before opening the door.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "Okay, now you are doing it on-"

"Oh, what now, you blithering idiot?”

Oh, lord. His voice. Aziraphale didn't know what it felt like to be suffocating. To have your lungs prived from the oxygen it needs to service. So he also didn't know how it felt to finally be able to breathe again, how hopeful, desperate, and relieving that first intake of air actually is. But if he could guess, it must feel something like that.

Listening to Crowley's voice was like breathing again. But then, he looked ahead, and he was breathless again.

"Crowley?” He spoke tentatively, as if he wasn't close to discorporating. Because Crowley… God. Crowley.

He was… Was divine a word he could use? Was it allowed? No, right? Because he had refrained from even using "beautiful" to describe a door in hell, so certainly… But what else could he call him? What else would be even fitting for the scene he had before him? Of course, there were other words, but they were not words he used. He couldn't use them or else he would lose his mind and all sense of self.

Well, it didn’t matter. All he knew and cared for was that right there, in front of him, sitting shir- oh, god- shirtless and leg-spread on a throne, one leg over thrown over its arm, hiding absolutely nothing in those sinful (may She forgive me) leather pants, sipping mindlessly from a glass of red wine, was Crowley. Crowley, Duke of Hell. No sunglasses.

The demon smirked at him, and his eyes were cold. "Well, if it isn't the Ssssupreme Archangel!" Crowley hissed his title.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke again, and like an asteroid trapped in the sun's gravity, he took a step further into the room without even realizing it.

“Stop,” Crowley spat at him like Aziraphale was an overexcited dog, ready to jump. And like an obedient dog, Aziraphale stopped. Crowley shifted, sitting up straighter, and as he did, the sound of the several chains and necklaces he wore tingled. For some reason, that made Aziraphale shiver.

Aziraphale had never, in the history of forever, seen Crowley hold himself like that. Not as an angel, when he was the most adorable creature She has ever made. Not as a demon, or as the snake of Eden. Not even when they faced Satan together. Because Crowley, no matter how powerful he was, he never wore it like a crown. But here… Now? Oh, here he understood why people sinned.

“Why are you even here?” Crowley turned up his nose.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Not you, you idiot. Him” Crowley signed with his head behind the angel. “This isn’t a fucking party. Fuck off, Furfur.”

When Aziraphale looked back to see the demon leave with several complaints on his tongue, he was able to finally take a look at the place. It was crowded with stuff, but not like Hell crowded. It was… Almost like Aziraphale crowded. There were books, and instruments, and plants, and notebooks, and furniture, and ammulates, and paintings, and all sorts of things. All in bad shape, of course, it was almost like the air in Hell consumed things, but… it was there nonetheless. The style. He couldn’t help but smile when he looked back at Crowley.

“Oh, you are sssso full of nerve, aren’t you?” Crowley showed his fangs.

“Sorry,” the angel grimaced. Aziraphale didn’t remember ever even seeing them. They made him look so… Pretty. “I just-”

“Stop, stop, stop. Sssstop.” Crowley shifted again, leaning forward on his elbows, resting them on his knees, the wine glass hanging loosely between his hands. The chains tingled again. “I don’t know why you’re here, but if the best apology ever invented by… I don’t know, someone, doesn’t come out of your mouth right now, you can take your fanssscy grey suit back to where it belongs and leave me alone for the rest of eternity.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale stepped closer. At each step, Crowley’s eyes gave away a bit. One tiny sparkle, one at a time.

“I mean it.” Aziraphale was now within his reach. “And it’s not just a little dance! Because you can have the whole Royal Ballet dancing with you and that wouldn’t cut it.”

“I know, darling. I know.” Aziraphale was now so close that Crowley had to look up, but not for long.

Aziraphale was oddly proud for an angel, he would admit. But as he knelt before Crowley on that throne, he didn’t feel one ounce of pride. He knelt, one knee then the other, and sat on his heels. He gently took the glass of wine from Crowley’s hand and sat it aside, then took the demon’s hand in his.

He took his time feeling it this time. It was so fast, at the ball. But now he could feel it and see it properly. It was a beautiful hand. The black nail polish and the rings were a new addition, but it was slender, surprisingly smooth, and cold. So cold. He unconsciously tried to rub it a bit.

“Snake blood.” Crowley’s voice was low on his throat now. Quiet.

“Right, of course.” Aziraphale looked up and met his eyes.

It was like a different being completely from mere seconds ago. His eyes shone with the most pure tone of gold to exist in the universe. Hope suited him well. “Crowley, I am deeply sorry. I am sorry for the things I said. And for how I have said them. But I won’t do the dance, I’m afraid. Because I wasn’t wrong, but neither were you. But we weren’t right either. It’s a mess, really. But you were right about something. Heaven is not- Not what I thought it was. And they have something bad planned, and I- I need you.”

“So… That’s it? A couple of not-even-that-pretty words and you expect me to help you? After everything?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other’s eyes for a couple of moments before Crowley sighed, taking his hands off Aziraphale’s. The angel didn’t understand how his hands felt colder at the lack of the touch. Crowley reached for the glass of wine, and got up, rounding Aziraphale, who followed him with his eyes from the floor, brows furrowed as he tried to understand if Crowley had or hadn’t forgiven him.

Crowley went to a shelf near the exit and grabbed something. The place was so messy Aziraphale took a while to see what it was, but when he did, he sighed in relief.

“You are unbelievable, you know that?” the demon said, opening his sunglasses temples with his chin.

“Y-Yes!” Aziraphale jumped to his feet. But before Crowley could put his glasses on, Aziraphale stopped him, holding his wrist back. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Thank you. And I- I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He stepped closer and put his hand on Crowley’s chest. He was warmer here.

Crowley’s pupil widened and he swallowed dry. Aziraphale couldn’t help but follow his Adam’s apple and wettening his lips. Crowley must have noticed because when he spoke, his voice had the tiniest glint of a smile behind it.

“Oh, I’ll hold you up to that promise, Angel.” Crowley smiled, really smiled, for the first time in seven years.

Crowley put on his sunglasses and snapped his fingers. The huge door stormed open, hitting the walls on the corridor, and nearly not killing Furfur, who was stubbornly waiting outside. “Furfur! My guy!”

“Me?” The demon glowed.

“Yeah, go tell Shax she can have her room back.”

“Wh-What?”

Crowley gulped down the wine, and threw it over to the side, near Furfur’s head. “I’m off this shit hole!” He turned around with an easy smile on his face. Oh, how smiling came easy when Aziraphale was near him. “You coming, Angel?”

He reached out his hand, and without a second thought, Aziraphale took it. “Of course.”

When their hands were securely interlaced, Crowley snapped his fingers and they were out of there. They had a world to save.

END?

>> This short fic was inspired by Joops's Art.

#good omens season 2 #good omens fanfic #fic by pidge it up #good omens #crowley as duke of hell is so hot #inspired by art #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley is a simp for Aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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kalims · 2 years

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Congratulations for 3k!! ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧ i hope for more happiness and love going your way!! you're amazing and i love your work!! but if it's alright with you, may i request prompt 4 & 16 with Riddle and Deuce? thank you so much, congrats again!!

<- back to event page

includes: riddle rosehearts, and deuce spade.

4. true face — how they act around you.

16. intimacy — little intimate things.

thank you nonnie! <3 I just noticed I made a word error for the prompt and just fixed it now 💀

my fingers actually hurt writing this as I'm writing on phone + I'm a thumb player and I played project sekai 😭 save meeeee

✧ riddle rosehearts.

4. true face

since you basically were stranded in twisted wonderland with no known companions, excluding grim since you didn't even know him and he was trying to grill you alive when you met. riddle takes up the role of someone you can look up to, and rely on just like he did for everyone else.

it just to happens that you're a tad more privileged than the average student. getting off the hook earlier and easier due to his not so subtle favoritism. trust me, riddle really does try to treat everyone equally but he can't fully succumb to the wishes of his mind. the other half following his heart <3.

heart <you3

I don't really think that he acts any different but he pays attention to you in a way like actually asking how you feel, including you in conversations, and keeping your opinion known and valid. it's as though you're the sole white rose sticking out a bunch of red ones.

—unconsciously drawn by your uniqueness in general, and yes. even if you don't believe you are unique, you really are. your resolve, no matter how strong or weak opens his eyes since you always manage to come through despite the level of its intensity.

by attention I mean like noticing something new faster than someone else. maybe a trim to your hair, a change of your tie, or a wrinkle in your clothing. he will notice it sooner or later. if it's wrinkles he'll just unconsciously reach out :)

16. intimacy

fixing up your posture. i can't tell myself if it feels intimate for everyone but I imagine the feeling of a hand pushing up against your back, straightening your spine from its previous slouched position. the action alone required riddle to squeeze near you and hide it by slipping an arm behind you like some one sided quick embrace.

using his fingers to grip your wrist when he's off to drag you somewhere. you can quite literally feel the fabric of his gloves from your hand and it's hard not to get flustered when it seems to be like some unconscious habit on his end. the grip is loose, but tight enough to secure his hold on you. almost as if he's intent not to lose it.

leaning over just enough to feel his fringes brush against your forehead, or tickling yours if you have one instead. he mainly does it when he can't see a notebook from his previous position so he obliviously leans in closer, too absorbed in the notebook to notice how close he is exactly. he retreats back unaware as usual, meanwhile you're having an inner crisis.

✧ deuce spade.

4. true face

more or less. deuce himself in the first place doesn't even realize the feelings are actually well,—feelings. he's stuck somewhere between mistaking it as something platonic and borderline confused about how giddy it makes him feel, is this what having friends does? well he didn't have a lot in the past since he was basically all delinquent-like and everyone else got scared. :(

deuce just acts the way he always does and most of the time he doesn't even realize that he's forgetting about the feelings since he's too happy with you and aside from him, there's always some kind of chaos revolving around you and with all that you can't blame him for forgetting.

speaking of forgetting. if he does end up realizing it it'll be like a: "wait what the fuck." moment cause it genuinely baffles him, was it romantic all this time? god he's so embarassed.

deuce tries to set up goals, as weird as it sounds sometimes he practices things to say to you in front of his mirror and there's a 50/50 chance that ace would end up barging in and witnessing him pathetically compliment the mirror.

but actually leading up to the moment, all that confidence he tried to built up from before disappears and his mind goes blank, heart racing. basically he wimps out at the last second, he swears he blinked and suddenly he was watching you walk to ramshackle.

aaaaand back to square one. but with a little more extra cursing.

16. intimacy

not hesitating to throw a punch when he feels as though you were treated unfairly, or downright disrespected. the thing about deuce is that he's probably one of the guys in the school that has genuine kindness. other than kalim of course, with his outstanding sense of justice you bet he's pitching in some revenge for you.

letting you do whatever you want. another thing about deuce is that he can't exactly say no, so if you politely ask him to lay down on your lap he will. he will not question when you start fiddling with it and pull out a hair tie? or when you start smoothing out the middle part of his hair and twist it inside the tie. he wants to remove it to save his manly dignity but doesn't have the heart to so he walks in class with that get up. not affected by the snickers, but in fact. proud of it.

literally listens to you about everything and takes it all seriously. atleast close to everything, again I'm not sure if that's intimate for you but it's funny seeing him actually take up your advice or the times where he'd fearfully nod when you're in a mood. oh (band name) is really good? he hasn't heard of them but they must be the best if you said it. someone is an asshole?? where are they, do you need a punch for them? oh you make a joke? he does it literally.

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thegirlwhowrites642 · 2 years

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I saw a Tumblr post that says Ginny should destroy a horcrux. What's your thoughts on this? And if you agree which horcrux Ginny should had destroyed?

While I understand the sentiment behind that statement, I have to disagree, but let's see why.

In the first place, I would argue that Ginny might not have destroyed a Horcrux but she certainly defeated one, in the most contorted, darkest, complex way. Let's also not forget that if it hadn't been for Harry finding the diary, Ginny wouldn't have ended up in the Chamber. She was eleven and strong enough to win a mental war against Voldemort.

The only comparable show of mental strength regarding the destruction of a Horcrux is Harry walking to his death, but technically Harry was not a Horcrux. It's a different thing, I'm not going to count him in the Horcruxes.

Anyway, which Horcruxes were destroyed when Ginny was around?

The diadem, the snake, and the cup.

Ginny going to the Chamber with Harry to destroy the cup could've been interesting but very hard to justify narratively. And honestly, it was Ron and Hermione's thing, it was needed for showing Ron's strategic thinking, Hermione complimenting him, and their habit of discussing things alone and then bringing them to Harry that was kind of lacking for a while in DH.

For Nagini, the fundamental premise of Harry telling Neville about the snake is that Harry is not that emotionally attached to him. Plus, if Harry had tried to pull that stunt with Ginny, she would have understood what he was going to do in half a second. Also, the idea that Ginny, finding out that Harry is dead, would worry about a snake is a bit absurd.

This leaves us with the diadem. Ginny is around the Room of Requirements when it gets destroyed, the story could have been arranged for her to destroy it. But what emotional value it would've had for her? None. She didn't know what Horcruxes were. Sure, she would've found out after but it's not really the same thing. It wouldn't have brought her character development and growth.

And more importantly, Ginny has her own story. Making her just one of Harry's many helpers would've defeated the point of her being Harry's equal.

It's true that her relationship with darkness starts with a Horcrux but it's not the point, it's not the focus of Ginny Weasley's story. She doesn't even find out about Horcruxes until after the war.

I personally find so much value in the fact that her story doesn't need Harry's to gain legitimacy.

Ginny Weasley's story is one about shining brighter than the shadow other people put you in because they consider you too little, too young, and God forbid, a girl. Coming out of the shadow is the theme of her character, just as much a her association with light.

Ginny's story is the one of a girl who because she was ignored ended up a victim of unimaginable horrors and then grew up to be a defender of the mistreated. First with her friends, then with the entirety of Hogwarts during DH. And while I'm pretty sure that Ginny wasn't the official leader of the DA, the narrative, before giving Neville his moment to shine, and I'm not trying to take that away from him, makes quite sure to point out that the "frontman" (or frontwoman, I guess?) is Ginny. Something easily deductible by the personalities of Ginny, Neville, and Luna anyway. Harry continues to receive information about what happens to Ginny from Phineas Nigellius, it's only Harry who deduces that Neville and Luna are probably working with her.

“We’ve got a couple of questions to ask you— about the sword of Gryffindor.” “Ah,” said Phineas Nigellus, now turning his head this way and that in an effort to catch sight of Harry, “yes. That silly girl acted most unwisely there— ”

“Professor Black,” said Hermione, “couldn’t you just tell us, please, when was the last time the sword was taken out of its case? Before Ginny took it out, I mean?” -Chapter 15, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, JK Rowling

However, he did let drop certain snippets. Snape seemed to be facing a constant, low level of mutiny from a hard core of students. Ginny had been banned from going into Hogsmeade. Snape had reinstated Umbridge’s old decree forbidding gatherings of three or more students or any unofficial student societies. From all of these things, Harry deduced that Ginny, and probably Neville and Luna along with her, had been doing their best to continue Dumbledore’s Army. This scant news made Harry want to see Ginny so badly it felt like a stomachache; but it also made him think of Ron again, and of Dumbledore, and of Hogwarts itself, which he missed nearly as much as his ex-girlfriend. -Chapter 16, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, JK Rowling

But whatever Ginny has accomplished in those months is diminished by her being away for the last month. Protected, put in a corner, once again for who she is. And so once again, right before the Battle, she finds herself having to fight in order to be able to fight, which said like this sounds ridiculous.

She's, for one last time, put in the shadow, and for one last time forced to prove that she can get out of it, that she's brighter than the dark corner she is forced into.

And we see her again being the one that takes care of the forgotten, when just after her brother's death, she is on the Hogwarts grounds, caring after a half-dying girl.

It's this whole story that travels alongside Harry's one, and yet constantly connects with it. If Harry's story is more of a war of the flesh, starting and ending with a physical mark, Ginny's story is more of a war of the mind.

When there's the fight between the six for going to the Department of Mysteries, the fight between the three who are always involved and the three who want to be, everybody gets a word in, yet the one that matches Harry in being scornful and angry is Ginny. It's Ginny Harry's match on the other side.

Their stories are like parallel streets yet always in connection. This can be seen also in the fields in which they display their charisma and leadership abilities.

We see Ginny in the DA being able to call people's attention to herself with confidence and being able to bring people to her side, she's a charismatic person:

“Hem, hem,” said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and get Defense lessons?” -Chapter 16, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, JK Rowling

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?” There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this. -Chapter 18, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, JK Rowling

Yet when it comes to DADA, it's Harry who truly shines, it's his territory. Ginny is a good duelist and, as the Bat-Bogey Hex lets us know, she knows how to handle the dark arts, but she is not Harry.

The opposite happens with Quidditch. Harry is the captain and he's good at it, he's a great seeker. But the life and soul of the team is Ginny (Harry's words not mine). She is the one who trains herself for years, can play more positions and clearly commands attention more than anyone else on the pitch.

They understand each other and have common interests while both having their own thing. They match each other without stepping on each other's shoes.

The enemy in Ginny's story is Voldemort too in the general sense of the war, but the ultimate enemy that brought the darkness Ginny fought against in DH and was consistent with the structure of her arc is the Carrows. In fact, Ginny is not associated for the first time with the Carrows in DH but in HBP. In the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, she's duelling against Amycus.

This was a very verbose way of saying that, thank God, Ginny didn't destroy an Hocrux because her story is not at the service of Harry's one, but it's her own.

If there's something I would've wanted to happen in the Battle, it would've been Ginny defeating one or both of the Carrows. I understand why it's not in the book, JKR probably didn't want to make Ginny a killer and also for us to see that, Harry should've been there but Harry couldn't see Ginny fighting or he wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else. He probably would've gotten a heart attack in the process too. But it would be something interesting to see if they'll ever do a tv series on the books. She doesn't necessarily need to defeat them by killing them herself.

If you're interested in the concept of Ginny's own parallel story, you might also want to give a look at this

#please no more love interests who are helpers of the hero #it's a terrible dynamic #ginny weasley #harry and ginny #ginny x harry #harry potter #hinny #ginny potter #thegirlwhowrites642HPmeta

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ofluminance-a · 9 months

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what does your muse smell like?

i hate to say it, but he probably uses some kind of cheap axe-like body spray that he thinks makes him smell good. does it? yes, when he doesn't overdo it. i just googled it: blue lavender! because it reminds me of him. :)

What does your muse's hands feel like?

calloused, rough, average. they're not big, but they're also not small either. they're covered in scars and cuts. yet, they can be surprisingly gentle, too despite all they've been through.

What does your muse usually eat in a day?

asdklfjn;. at school in the past verses, bento, ramen, too much junk food. he occasionally likes sweets too. reading the manga, it's canon that his parents are present. but then in the future, at a point, he says he ran from home -- so, no home cooked meals besides like ramen that he can do himself. basic things. probably doesn't eat right at all, honestly. i've always hc'd his parents were busy people and not around much to begin with, and then later on, he did run away to protect them. so yeah, ramen or whatever chifuyu feeds him. pretty much, lol.

Does your muse have a good singing voice?

absolutely not!! lol! he would probably try singing at karaoke or the shower or something, and i am just imagining everyone boo-ing or trying to get him off stage.

Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

oh yeah, for sure. i mean we all know in the future when he's on his own, he's a slob. doesn't care much about his appearance, dress, job, etc. but i think that all stems from like-- depression? like why bother if i have no one to dress up / clean up for? and not having parents around, who would tell michi otherwise? i mean, as he grows and becomes more takemichi, that changes of course. but some habits are hard to break and i can certainly see partners, yelling at him to get a hair cut orrrr make the bed, etc.

What does your muse usually look like/wear?

there are times he overdoes it. especially when he's younger, trying to be ' cool ' takemichi, no, please stop, lol. honestly, my favorite looks for him are when he's not trying. jeans, a tee and some sneakers. a hoodie, etc. when he's older that doesn't change much.

Is your muse affectionate? How so?

ohhh yeah. too much at times. takemichi wears his heart on his sleeve, and i am pretty sure that it's plain for all to see. but, he will show his affection in simple ways that may not outright express his feelings: but, it's his own way of making someone smile: a gift ( hina's necklace for example ) as a way of showing that even when he's not with his partner, he still cares about them, and is thinking of them. it will very much be acts of service: flowers, sharing food, picking up their favorite drink / food. or more physical being: brushing hair behind an ear, soft smiles, cuddles, holding hands. and just letting them know? - he will outright tell you, and speak his mind, or show you. <3

What position does your muse sleep in?

tighty whities. i mean ... boxers. xD

Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

oh god, yes. he's so freaking loud and doens't mean to be, but have you met him?

tagged by: @prudenze / thank you!!! <3

tagging: the dash! take it if you haven't & you want too!

#dash games tag tba #⋆ ― ✧ out of chocolate. / ooc.#⋆ ― ✧ crybaby hero. / takemitchy.#⋆ ― ✧ m: takemichi hanagaki

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egg-on-the-run · 3 years

Note

How about relationship headcanon’s and yes there’s cute stuff but what about realistic shizz? The good, the bad, the ugly. The stubbornness that with time one learns the art of compromise for.

I've only ever been in one relationship and tbh it was very like relaxed??? We never argued much so I hope this isn't super unrealistic.

Leonardo:

Never tells you why he's upset. It's always a guessing game and the worst part is half the time he is not upset with you

He'll have an argument with Raphael and give everyone the silent treatment while he's huffing (and it is huffing) and you spend an hour trying to figure out what you did wrong

Leonardo's confrontational about things that Do Not Matter but avoids conversations about things that are actually important

Like yeah he'll tell you if some silly habit kind of annoys him but it takes a long time for him to confess that PDA makes him a little uneasy

That's another thing: PDA is a minimum with him. Yes he will put his arm around you, yes he will hold your hand. But please no kisses in front of his family he just doesn't vibe with it

He's very nervous about a lot of things, very nervous about going on dates, doing things with you for the first time. You do have to take things slow with him and it takes a while to perfect the art of reassuring him without making him feel patronised

His love language is acts of service and quality time.

Sometimes that quality time is napping because he's prone to overworking himself

Adores it when you take control of things. LOVES being babied and taken care of

Call him something like "sweetheart" and he becomes putty in your hands

His ideal date is he makes dinner, you buy dessert. You both do the dishes together and watch a movie afterwards 💙

Raphael:

Hahaha get ready to rumble.

King of arguments, fool of never being able to apologise

You will bicker about everything to the point where everyone is like 👀👀 but the second anyone else says something? You are both wildly protective of each other

"God you're such a prick" "Yeah screw you Raph" "Casey I swear to god if you ever say anything like that ever again I will kick you so hard in the dick you'll give yourself a blow job" "Raph you're s/o is scaring me" "Casey I'm going to put your head through the wall."

Raph likes to pretend arguments just Did Not Happen. He doesn't expect you to apologise either so at least you can't call him a hypocrite, but he just prefers moving past things. It's over now. Don't bring it up again.

And yes this does cause more conflict sometimes. But you cannot date Raph and not be stubborn. If you put your foot down firmly enough he will give in and do his best to talk about things. He doesn't necessarily like doing it, but you're both stubborn and both very much in love and he's always willing to try

Much more into PDA than Leo. Likes to hold you against him, leans on you, plays with your hair. He just constantly likes to be touching you in some way, even in front of everyone

You can pull the "because you love me" card at any time

"Can you make me some coffee?" "I'm in the middle of playing a game, why would I make you coffee?" "Because you love me."

He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends to

His love language is physical touch and acts of service: lots of cuddles, he holds all your stuff, walks you to and from work

His ideal date is just him trying to teach you how to fight

Lots and lots of gym dates, exploring sewer tunnels and the city together, him letting you win at wrestling ❤️

Donatello:

Leonardo's bad at confrontation sometimes, but Donnie? If you stabbed Donnie he wouldn't complain

Donnie is very insecure in his ability to please. So he works overtime and stresses himself out. If something is bothering him you will never find out because he would rather suffer in silence than even risk upsetting you by bringing it up

His thought process is something along the lines of he interrupts you once so he thinks he just shouldn't speak. He has not connected the dots but he's certainly jumped to conclusions

It takes a very very long time for an argument to actually happen because if you try to talk to Donnie about something he will just Immediately Agree With You, even if he doesn't

But when an argument does happen he says a lot of mean things to get under your skin and you will play the very same cards when things get heated

As time goes on you both get better at having discussions rather than arguments. But when a fight happens you can go days without speaking to each other

Very protective. Likes to know you're safe. Yes it's doting and sweet, but it's also a little annoying having text him "yes I'm still at work darling" every hour

Donnie is also an "actions speak louder than words" kind of guy. No saying sorry, but he makes you a little gift and slides it across the table. No words exchanged, but you know he's sorry for what he did

Mixed feelings about PDA. Sometimes he's more than happy to let you sit on his lap, other times if you try to hold his hand he flinches

Baby is a little touch starved. He gets overwhelmed very easily and shuts you out. Some days are better than others but again, he just doesn't tell you

His love language is gift giving and loves making you little trinkets and toys to put on your desk. But he adores receiving words of affirmation

His ideal date is both of you info dumping in your room while eating pizza. It's so simple, it's so easy. Usually whenever he starts to ramble he forgets a lot of his insecurities with touch and will let you hold him 💜

Michelangelo:

King of communication. He just does not like to argue, fighting upsets him and when you're angry with him he gets a little afraid

Even if you are very frustrated he takes you by the hand and sits you down. He has it down to a routine, there's no problem you can't solve together

It takes a good while for you to break down his walls. He puts up a very fun loving, easy going front to please everyone and even when you start dating it's difficult for him to be completely open

But when he shows you his deep emotions once he's very comfortable showing them to you again and again

Needs lots of reassurance, not with regards to relationships but with regards to himself. His brothers still treat him like the baby of the family, still make him feel stupid. You treat him like he's capable of whatever and he just bursts into tears because you have complete faith in him

You do, however, understand that his brothers treat him like the baby because sometimes he acts like it

He can be a little too high energy and sometimes you just need space and he doesn't understand that it's not his fault, you're just tired.

You have a code for when he's being too affectionate. He loves PDA to the full but it is overwhelming: a squeeze on his knee tells him to calm down a little

He's such a people pleaser that you have to make most of the decisions with everything. Where you want to eat, what you want to do, it would be nice if he took control a little more.

His love language is yes and. Jk jk he praises you 24/7, pet names, compliments, worships you. Loves physical touch as well obviously

His ideal date is something arty. He takes you to find a blank wall in the tunnels and you both just spray paint 🧡

#tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #tmnt imagines

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diavolosthots · 3 years

Note

Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!

You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things

Warning: uh.... Angst?

Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)

“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess.

And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help.

Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed.

However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!”

Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”

Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this.

“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.”

Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”

“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.”

You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #mammon obey me #mammon #mammon avatar of greed #shall we date mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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chateautae · 3 years

Text

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning?

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist

“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.”

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.”

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.”

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.”

“And why is that?”

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.”

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.”

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.”

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!”

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.”

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across.

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him.

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now.

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face.

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more.

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.”

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?”

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?”

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move.

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book.

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg.

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her?

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct.

You just seemed different.

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!”

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?”

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!”

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?”

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air.

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...”

“Marriage, huh?”

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away.

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied.

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him.

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all.

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?”

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped.

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated.

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet.

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life.

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed.

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?”

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage.

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands.

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life.

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man?

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating.

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall.

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general.

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his.

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.”

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly.

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you.

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go.

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together.

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back.

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?”

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.”

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest.

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands.

It was kinda cute.

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized.

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now?

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake.

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct.

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’.

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest.

You feel him tense underneath you.

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory.

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation.

“Yes, so you do remember!”

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding.

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around.

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait.

Oh God, not him.

Anything but him.

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was?

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be.

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear?

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something?

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name.

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!”

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking.

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem.

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering.

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead.

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable.

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself.

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong.

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold.

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong.

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep.

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Better than ever. You?”

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation.

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively.

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately.

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you.

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle.

Dear God, you took your time with this one.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream.

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for.

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips.

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore?

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you?

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours.

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief.

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise.

“So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face.

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock.

“Says the one who was thinking about me.”

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you.

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you.

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?”

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall.

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve.

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband.

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests.

It was the day of the wedding.

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today.

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony.

And none of it was your real choice.

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite.

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another.

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own.

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage.

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself.

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event.

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept.

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye.

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself.

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate.

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips.

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy.

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate.

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life.

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love.

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering.

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you.

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of.

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from.

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light.

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.

He at least owed you that.

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life.

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection.

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue.

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner.

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner.

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested.

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful.

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official.

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally.

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play.

The fool.

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so.

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again.

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous.

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains.

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think.

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe.

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one.

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move.

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either.

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him.

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner.

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room.

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed.

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him.

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up.

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?”

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions.

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so.

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush.

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed.

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight.

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look.

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting.

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly.

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution.

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar.

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things.

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself.

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked?

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute.

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss.

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange.

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it.

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you.

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve.

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened.

You took a deep breath.

Maybe Taehyung is different after all.

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

Beware the Beast

Pairing: Yandere!Philza x Reader

Request: Maybe some yandere!philza headcanons? You don’t have to!

Word Count: 2k

Warning: yandere, swearing, talk about kidnapping, depression (kinda detailed on that aspect)

A/n: I accidentally turned this into a story- i really need to stop doing that. But I just couldn't resist! Also sorry if Phil is OOC. And this isn't proofread. We die like men here. Can be perceived as platonic or romantic.

This man has lived many years, lost so many loved ones. He’s getting tired of this cycle. It’s truly exhausting. You start to care about the world less. After a while, you start to see too many similarities in things, making it hard to look at. So he starts to close his heart to others. It’s just easier that way, for both parties. Saves him from the heartbreak and them from… well, him. He also stops caring for himself. After all, he’s literally immortal. Nothing can kill this man, so neglecting some self care routines every once in a while wouldn’t hurt…

But this becomes such a bad habit of his. He barely cares for himself after a while. It’s hard to find the energy when it isn’t going to matter in the end. Nothing matters anyways. Every action will always prove fruitless in the end. So what’s the point in doing something so... small if it takes this much energy? If a past version of himself saw Phil now, they’d be disgusted. Telling him to just get up and care for himself. Come on, you’re immortal. Nothing can kill you. Just do this.

He’s a mess when you two meet. His platinum-blonde hair was mostly neat, a little shaggy. It was obvious that he just got himself cleaned up a bit. One can only do so much about deep eyebags, dull hair, and lifeless eyes on such short notice.

You were introduced to him through Ghostbur. Phil was overjoyed that Ghostbur was making more friends. Though much less pleased when Ghostbur insisted that he’d bring his new friend over to meet Phil. Oh come on Phil, you’d just love them. They’re so nice! What tortured Philza more than his first interaction with you? His conversations with Ghostbur about you. He’d just prattle on about things you and him did, about how much fun you two had and how nice you were. Always nice.

And you were nice, an absolute sweetheart. But much too perky for Philza’s liking. You two had been chatting for quite a while when Ghostbur silently leaves you two together. Well, you’re chatting. Phil is just listening to you, hoping that you’d leave at any moment. Some topics were brought up; they were mostly some small icebreakers to get acquainted more.

When your past was brought up, you’d always paint this fucking picture-perfect past. So peaceful. God, the envy he had of you, of the peace you experienced in your life- He felt bad for it, honestly, he did. But he just wished he could’ve had even a fraction of the prosperity you spoke about. For someone living in the DSMP, you had a relatively easy and steady life. No war, no major or sudden loss or anything of that sort. A perfect life.

After that, you just kept coming back. Why? Why are you coming back? Are you here to taunt him for the life he lived? For the life he’ll never have? Is some god sending you as a punishment? A living example of everything he gave up, had to leave behind. That’s what he believed, anyways.

That was far from your intentions. You saw how he was in your first meeting; jumpy yet dissociating from reality. An oppressive, glum aura seemed to just emanate him. So downtrodden and dead inside, yet so obviously alive on the outside. It hurt to see him like that, as you went through something similar. You had no idea how long he’d been like that, but you decided that you’d help him in any way that you could.

You tried to make it a daily thing. Everyday you’d go to Phil’s house around midday to afternoon. You two would talk for a bit, but you’d couldn’t help sprinkling your questions in. Have you eaten yet, mr. Philza? Have you had water today, mr. Philza? Have you preened your feathers, mr. Philza? Have you bathed today, mr. Philza?

Your questions irked Phil. Everyday, without fail, you’d come and talk to him. It’d be small talk at first; what the weather was up to that day, some light politics, Tubbo’s new adopted son. Small. Yet you’d always bring up his self care. He was a fcking grown man. He could take care of himself. What’s worse? You’d pester him to care for himself in that instant if he even showed a small sign of negligence. And you’d stay the entire time, making sure he did everything. And then you’d always add “mr. Philza” on the end. It was a sign of respect, yet it upset him so much. But he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

Though it was annoying, it got him in the habit of caring for himself. It was only to stop your pesting! That’s the reasoning. The only reason. It wasn’t because you’re congratulating and giving him treats when he remembered to care for himself. Or you petting his wings… Those were only bonuses! He swears!

It becomes more steady as time goes on; you go and visit Phil, you talk with Phil and see if he’s caring for himself, and if he was, you’d reveal a delicious treat from within your enderchest. You two would talk while munching on the food, having fun sharing what your pasts were like. Well, more like yours. Phil didn’t really talk about his.

But he still seems so cold, disinterested. Even with how long you’ve been going over for. Like he’s only listening to what you’re telling him. If he’s even listening. And seeing how he interacted with others like Techno and Ranboo, it really disheartened you. He was so much more lively with them, more natural. Loud laughing and silly little antics. It only took a few small, insignificant depression episodes for your self doubt to finally debilitate you. Though it only really affected your contact with Phil; he was a big insecurity of yours.

So you start to distance yourself. You were hurting and saw yourself as a bother to Philza. It would’ve been better if you just didn’t try to talk to him anymore. He’d be so much happier without you bugging him all the time. All of this sudden, open time gives you much more empty hours. There was nothing to do. So you did what you could; you went out to make or strengthen friendships. It was so nice. You never realized how everyone on the smp was so nice. Maybe they weren’t as bad as Phil was making them all out to be…

Philza was upset the first day you weren’t there. You were such a steady element of his day. You were like the very air he breathed; it was extremely hard to live without you. He never noticed before how much he needed you. Yes, he knew that he really enjoyed you, saw that you were a pillar, a constant in his life. He came to enjoy your visits, but hadn’t realized how dependent he became because of them. It was day three when Phil started to worry about you. Why hadn’t you come to talk with him, like usual? He’s taking care of himself, just for you, just like you kept insisting he do. And he made you some cake.

He knew he was acting odd, lovesick even. His love for you was toxic, extremely so. It wasn’t healthy, yet he couldn’t care less anymore. You were like his nicotine to a smoker; he couldn't live without you being in his life. His everyday life. So after some debating, he finally went out to look for you.

Traversing the nether wasn’t too bad, but still a tedious walk. He was stuck in his mind the entire trip there, wondering where you could be and what you could be doing. Maybe you got caught up in making something. A redstone project? That’d be pretty cool. Or maybe moving? No, if you were, you’d have told him. But that didn’t stop him from speeding up just a wee bit. Just to make sure you were actually still on the smp.

His mind was racing, thinking of any possibility of what you were doing. And his mind eventually hit something that absolutely terrified him; you could be sick, injured, or dying. It felt like the world just fucking stopped. This was a sudden loss of contact and you still hadn’t come to talk with him. So that… that means there’s a high probability of you being in danger.

He ran the rest of the way to the main part of the smp. When he came out of the portal, he frantically looked around for any sign of you. For your house. Then it hit him; he had no idea where you lived. You only mentioned it being cold where you lived, just like where he lived. So that most likely meant Snowchester. He started running toward the cold nation

On his way to Snowchester, he observed his surroundings. A little bit. He had to get to you, keep his eye on the prize. And he was glad that he looked around. There you were, on another part of the prime path.

He was overjoyed to see you, especially doing so well. Soon he came to a stop. Just floored by the fact you were there, in front of him. Frantically he tried to view you as best he could, looking for any sign of injury or illness.

Now he couldn’t come across as clingy or desperate. That wasn’t how you knew him. You know him as Philza; the kind but a mild social recluse. Not really going out to others unless he needed something or he was needed.

So he walked over to you, trying his best to look nonchalant. Like he wasn’t just desperately searching for you a moment ago. He called out to you and guess what happened? You started to walk away. He was stunned. Did you just ignore him? No, you must not have heard him. It was kinda windy out at the moment.

Logically he did the best option, following you. He had no clue where your destination could be. You were going to a different area of the smp than he had been. My how the smp changed since the destruction of L’manberg. He knew it changed, but it seemed so much bigger than what you described.

He didn’t exactly pay attention to where you were indirectly leading him. That was until a flash of movement caught his attention. Snapping out of it, he looked to see what could’ve been going on. Who could’ve been there. And what he saw before him was a terrible sight.

Quackity stood by your side, animatedly chatting with you. Phil was confused as to why you were talking to Quackity of all people. You two recently talked about how Quackity was problematic and arrogant. If you knew that, then why were you talking to him?

Awkwardly he watched you. Not within earshot, but where he could keep an eye on you and Quackity. And Quackity was looking at Phil too. His eyes spoke volumes; Quackity wasn’t pleased that Phil was there. Boy was that sentiment shared. It was tense between the two, yet you still seemed oblivious to what was going on.

Then Quackity said something, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you somewhere else. But gave one last look at Phil, one that just spoke “fuck off”. Phil wished he could’ve told Quackity the same. To get him away for you.

Quackity’s action sparked a thought in him. A reason as to why you hadn’t come to talk to Phil; Quackity must’ve kidnapped you! Yes, that’s why you hadn’t come. It makes so much sense. Quackity knows you and most likely knows you talk to Phil.

With how easily you tell Phil of the people you’re talking to, he doubts that the behavior would just change. But that’s what must’ve gotten you in so much trouble; you were too trusting, too kind-hearted. You gave Quackity a chance and he was stealing you away, imprisoning you. You needn’t worry dear, he’ll rescue you from that foul man.

#tw: yandere #c: phil #dodo writing #mcyt x reader #philza x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere #yandere philza #yandere dream smp #dsmp shipping #tw: swearing #yandere x reader #yandere philza x reader #c: quackity #tw: depression #tw: mental health

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Laisse tomber les filles 9

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon, handjob

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: You guys think Lee can’t get any worse. He can always get worse.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You were frazzled and distant as you sat beside Lee. You only returned to the present when your hand dropped and was covered by one larger and warmer. Your palm pressed against something firm and you glanced over startled.

Lee pressed his lips to your crown and kept your head down as he moved your hand over his crotch. You tried to pull away and he caught your wrist. He hummed and tutted into your scalp.

“It’s alright, honey pie,” he purred, “don’t you remember how I made you feel, hm? Don’t you wanna do the same for me?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” your murmured as his hand slipped over yours again and he made your grip the thick outline bulging through his pants, “please…”

“Shhh, honey, you just gotta do what I say,” he cooed, “ain’t nothing wrong, huh? We’re together now, you got your pretty ring.”

I didn’t ask for the ring, you thought, but he gave generously and all you could do was keep doubting him. How ungrateful you must seem.

Your hand shook but you let the tension drain from your arm. His other arm snaked around your shoulders squeezed you closer and he tickled the back of your hand as he withdrew his own and twiddled his fingers against his thigh.

“Go on, you can undo me,” he coaxed, “take it slow, honey pie, ain’t no rush.”

You hesitated and your hand trembled. You felt detached from your own body as you focused on his words. If you did what he said he’d be happy and you might even like it too. It was always weird the first time, right?

You struggled to unhook his belt and he helped with his free hand. Once you unbuckled the leather you pinched the button of his fly until it came loose and hesitated on the tag of his zipper.

“Oh, honey, you’re almost there,” he breathed into your hair, “mmm, you got me so hard for you already.”

You gulped and pushed down his zipper with a single finger. You stared at the shape of him through his briefs and your hand hovered above tenuously. He pulled his fly wide and lifted his pelvis just slightly. He hooked a thumb in the elastic of his underwear and tugged them down his hips.

“Grab onto me, girl,” he demanded as he sat down heavily and pushed the elastic down below his dick. Your eyes rounded at the sight of him throbbing and twitching, “don’t keep me waitin’ here.”

You lowered your hand and wrapped your fingers around him lightly. He shuddered and his arm slipped down and he gripped your side. His other hand balled around the corner of his pants.

“Tighter,” he demanded and you obeyed, “move your hand, honey, just up and down.”

You pushed your dry tongue to the roof of your mouth and stared at your hand. The scene was surreal to you, so odd and new. The mystery of intimacy unravelling in an act so lewd. You stroked him and the curve of your thumb caught his tip as your slid back down and he hissed.

“Oh, yes, honey, keep goin’,” he pushed his cheek against your head as his body tensed and he hugged you closer to him.

You kept your hand in motion, too afraid and dazed to stop. His groans filled your ears as his hot breath washed over you. He turned his head and pressed his lips to your hair.

“Faster,” he urged, “goddamn, honey, faster.”

You did as he said and his hand crept away from his thigh. He reached over blindly and you heard a subtle pop. He trembled as his pants grew frantic. He brought around his empty milkshake cup, the lid on an angle as it hung from the straw.

“Almost there,” he dug his nails into your side as his fingers poked through the loose crochet hoops of your sweater, “try to get it in the cup, honey, we don’t want a--”

He grunted as he quickly moved the rim below his tip and tilted the cup. He quaked as you kept on and watched him spill into the paper. Your mouth hung open at the sight as your arm moved out of habit. He swore and lifted his head and sighed.

“Enough, hon,” the cup shook in his hand, “you can… stop… ah.”

He shivered as you slowed and drew your hand away. He took a deep breath and rescinded his arm from around your back and fixed the lid on the cup. He flicked the straw with his finger and smirked then peeked over at you.

You batted your lashes dumbly and he snickered and put the cup aside. He looked down at himself and cupped his sack as he covered his shaft with his hand. He nodded and closed his eyes as he steadied his breath.

“That was good, honey pie,” he rolled his shoulder then lifted his ass to fix his underwear, “you sure you never touched a man before? Sure feels like you have.”

“N-- no,” you rubbed your warm palm with your thumb and wiped it thoughtlessly on your dress, “I never…”

“How’s that milkshake?” he asked with a chuckle and tapped his own cup, “sweeter than mine I’m sure.”

“I…” you folded your hands and bent your arms against your chest, “can you take me home now?”

“Home?” he echoed, “why’s that?”

“I-- You know it’s all new to me,” you murmured.

“We ain’t gotta do nothing else, honey pie,” he placed his hand on your thigh, “I just like being with you… god, that was so good, you know that? You make me feel so nice.”

“Mmhmm,” you twined your fingers together and bent them, resting your chin on your knuckles.

“Why don’t we go for a ride?” he asked, “it will help you relax.”

“Sure,” you squeaked, “that’s alright.”

📚

The more you thought about it, the uneasier you felt and all you could do was think about it. The man next to you, his arm around your shoulder as he drove, wouldn’t let you forget him. You found yourself twisting the ring on your finger as your nerves ran wild.

Your mind raced as the evening played back in your head and you swore you could still feel him in your hand. You resisted a shudder as he steered lazily and as you saw the welcome sign at the north end of campus, you let out a slow breath. You just wanted to go and hide and not think.

You wanted those few hours when you didn’t have to fear this man’s presence. Were you supposed to feel this way about your “boyfriend”? That’s what he was, or what he thought he was.

He drove down Greek row, some lights still on in the whitewashed houses, and onto your street. He pulled up in front of your residence and kissed the top of your head. He shifted the car into park with his free hand and ran his knuckles along your chin as he made you face him. He pushed your chin up and kissed your lips.

“You tired, honey pie?” he asked as he rubbed his nose against yours, “I saw you yawning. I shouldn’t keep ya out so late, huh?”

“It was a long day,” you picked at your sweater as you stiffened against him.

“One more thing,” he leaned against you, nearly flattening you to the seat as he reached for the glove compartment. It fell open and he grasped around inside before he pulled you back up, “here.”

You stared down at the book and took it reluctantly. The lewd image of a naked woman pouted back at you and you tried not to squirm. You’d never seen anything so explicit on the front of a book. Yours were all hardcover and mostly blank. You shifted and bit your lip nervously.

“They’re stories, since you like readin’,” he shrugged as he kept his arm lightly on your shoulders, “they’ll help ya learn.”

“I can’t… I can’t read this,” you whispered.

“Don’t ya wanna know how to keep me happy? Ain’t nothing wrong with doing all that with your man,” he said, “you know, then it won’t be so scary.”

“I just… I don’t know,” you bent the book, “I wouldn’t… it’s just not for me.”

“Do it for me, honey,” he adjusted the strap of your dress, “the next time we see each other, I want you to take the lead.”

“What…” you breathed.

“So you needa study,” he purred, “you can make a man happy, you did tonight. You just need practice is all. It ain’t so hard, is it?”

You kept your head down and said nothing. You nodded and reached for your purse to hide the book.

“Don’t mean I won’t do nothing for you, honey pie,” his hand fell to your thigh, “I got lots in mind.”

“I’ll try to… find the time,” you gulped, “good night, sir.”

“Night, honey pie,” he caught you before you could sidle away and kissed you again, this time moaning into your mouth before he let go, “you get lots of sleep. You got your book club Friday?”

“Yes,” you eked out as you wiggled away.

“Then I’ll be round then,” he said as he squeezed your hand one last time, “now don’t get carried away with that book… no touching yourself, that’s a sin.”

“Mhmm,” you uttered and stumbled out of the car, closing the door a bit too hard behind you.

You didn’t look back as you hurried up the steps but you knew he was watching you. You could feel his eyes on you in the dim and it was suffocating.

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #au #college au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #laisse tomber les filles

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notkageyamasprincess · 3 years

Text

what’s so wrong about us? | kageyama tobio x reader

characters: nii-chan!kageyama tobio x reader

genre/warnings: smut, incest, degradation, blackmail, dubcon, slight exhibitionist kink, unprotected sex

words: 2.0k

summary: you and tobio-nii don’t have a typical brother-sister relationship. how far can you go without getting yourselves caught?

notes: please please read the warnings.

“Haah…mhn…w-wait, we can’t! Mom and Dad are coming home tonight, we have to get ready.”

Your hands clutched at the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. Kageyama pulled your lower half closer to him so that your ass hung over the edge of the bed, and kneeled between your legs, fucking you furiously with his fingers and tongue. You felt his hot breath fan over you as he removed his mouth.

“That’s exactly why we have to do it now. Let me taste you and get my fill.”

You cried out when he dragged a long digit against your sensitive spot and sucked your bud harshly, making you tighten around him and spray your release.

“Ah, not so rough! I’m still…ah, so-sore.”

Your older brother wiped his face with a towel and responded by spreading your quivering thighs even wider, drinking in the view of your glistening cunt.

“Well, looks like down here is really enjoying it. This slutty pussy wants more, doesn’t it?” He plunged his fingers back inside, fucking into you, filling the room with your wet noises. “Hear that? God, your cute pussy’s just dripping all over my hand. But you’d rather me stuff it full with something else, don’t you?”

You could only moan his name, too far gone to string together a coherent sentence. He was already edging you closer and closer to another orgasm. “Mmhn…yes…a-ah… Tobio.”

He frowned, stopped completely and took out his fingers, licking them clean of your juices. “Wrong name. Did you forget what to call me?”

“Sorry, Nii-chan…”

“Good.” He resumed his ministrations, slowly rubbing the inside of your walls. “Now, how do we ask for what we want?”

“Please…Nii-chan.”

Kageyama shook his head. “You can do better. What happened to the good little whore from yesterday, huh? Begging so sweetly to cum from her Nii-chan’s cock?”

You whined in desperation. “Tobio-nii, please! Please stretch out my hole with your fat cock. Want Nii-chan to fill me up with his cum.”

He grinned and nodded approvingly. “Good girl,” he cooed, unzipping his jeans. “Time for my pretty cumslut to get her reward.”

You heard the jingling of keys and the front door unlocking.

Your eyed widened and your brother cursed. “Shit, they weren’t supposed to come back this early.”

Your mother called out first. “Kids! We’re home and we brought takeout! Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

“____, Daddy got you a souvenir on his business trip, come see what I have for you.”

“Really? Thanks Daddy! I’ll be down in a second, Tobio-nii’s uh…helping me with something.”

You rushed to put your skirt back on and made your bed while Tobio put on a large hoodie to hide his erection.

+++++

You took a sip of water, trying not to think about what you and your brother were just doing as you chatted over dinner. The conversation moved onto work-related matters, so you sat and ate quietly while your parents exchanged stories.

Kageyama leaned over to reach a dish on your side of the table. “____, give me a handjob,” he murmured in a low voice.

You quickly checked if your parents heard before whipping your head towards him. “No way in hell. It’s too risky,” you hissed.

“I didn’t get to cum and I’m hard again. It’s because of you, so take responsibility.”

“You’re not serious.”

“If you won’t do it, then I’m going to tell Mom and Dad everything we’ve been doing for the last few months,” he threatened.

You started getting nervous. “Nii-chan… you wouldn’t…”

Seeing your frightened expression, he started coaxing you more gently. “Come on, please? Help out your poor Nii-chan…he’s in so much pain. Be a good little sister for me, alright?”

You snuck a glance at your parents once more just to make sure they were still engrossed in their discussion before slipping a hand down his pants. Thankfully, the tablecloth is able to cover his lap. You felt his dick twitch in your palm as you gave him slow strokes.

“Tobio-nii, this is enough right? Let’s stop here.”

“Stop moving and I’ll lift up my hoodie and show them exactly what’s going on. You wouldn’t want to make Mom cry, do you?”

At that moment, the person in question piped up. “And what are you two whispering about?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

Tobio flashed her a sheepish smile. “Actually, we were trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday. It’s coming up soon, isn’t it? You weren’t supposed to know, though.”

“Oh, how sweet! Well don’t let me ruin your surprise,” she replied, covering her ears. “I know nothing.”

She leaned her head on your father’s shoulder as he too, smiled at you both warmly. “We did a good job with our children, didn’t we?”

“Sure did, honey.”

If only they knew.

You felt so guilty.

The irony is, you would never want to do anything to jeopardise the happiness of your family.

You tried your best to act normal as your brother somehow managed to speak casually with your parents. You felt his length straining against his boxers—he was getting close.

You heard the clatter of a utensil on the floor. “Sorry ____, I dropped my spoon, would you mind picking it up for me?”

You crouched under the table and immediately felt him nudge your head towards his crotch. He forced the head of his shaft between your lips, muffling your startled exclamations. He gave a few shallow thrusts before finishing in your mouth, and you swallowed out of habit. Tobio peered down at you discreetly, smiling in satisfaction. “Good girl,” he mouthed, patting your head.

As you shakily rose from the ground, your mother gasped sharply.

You froze. Were you caught?

“____ ____! Is that a hickey on your neck? Did you invite a boy over while we were gone? Young lady, what did I say about having boys over while we were out of the house?”

You slapped a hand to your neck in realization. Tobio left a mark on you the previous night and you had forgotten it was there. Despite still being in hot water, you were relieved that your mother didn’t seem to have an inkling of suspicion that it was your brother’s doing.

You began to make up an excuse, but Tobio cut in. “No, it’s my fault for letting her out of my sight. Don’t worry Mom, I’ll discipline her accordingly. She won’t have any more chances to fool around with boys if I have anything to say about it.”

“At least ____ has a responsible older brother like you, Tobio,” she sighed.

“It’s my job, after all. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

As if he wasn’t the one who almost revealed your dirty secret.

Your father chuckles. “Now honey, we were all at that age at one point. ____’s a big girl, she can handle herself and she knows what not to do.”

Except you apparently didn’t know not to have sex with your brother.

“Sweetie, you’re looking a little flushed, are you alright?” He cast you a concerned look.

Tobio took the opportunity to leave the table. There were other things he wanted to do anyways.

“Yeah Dad, now that you mention it, she doesn’t look very well. I’ll help her into her room.”

He guided you up the stairs and you slapped him away once you were out of earshot.

“Are you crazy? How could you do that with Mom and Dad sitting right across from us? You’re the worst. I hate having such a sick older brother like you!”

He feigns hurt but doesn’t take it to heart. He ushered you into your room and closed the door behind him. “Aw, princess, are you mad? I know I went a little too far but you enjoyed it too didn’t you? Don’t you love your Nii-chan?”

Tears began to prick at the back of your eyes. “This and that are different! You have no idea how terrible I felt when Mom talked about doing such a good job with us. We’re freaks. This…this is wrong,” you sniffled.

He caressed your waist softly and soothingly massaged your sides, rubbing circles into your skin with the pads of his thumbs, kissing away the tears that flowed down your cheeks.

“What’s so wrong about us? What’s so wrong about the way I feel, or the way you feel? Love is love, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He backed you up slowly until you reached your bed, and laid you down, all the while continuing to whisper words of comfort in your ear.

He sat down beside you. “You’re moving out for college soon and you can come live with me. I’ll have a stable job. We’ll be free.”

You hiccupped and nodded. Your mood began to brighten when you thought about your future together. You just wanted to be with him.

After a few minutes, you felt a hand snaking up your legs to toy at the hem of your panties. You squeaked in protest, but Tobio shushed you.

“You know, I was impressed with your behaviour today, you were being such a good girl for me, weren’t you? Why’d you have to ruin that? Your words made Nii-chan so sad.”

He shifted from his position to trap you between his knees. You made an attempt to shove him off, but he took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

“You know that Nii-chan doesn’t like brats. Our parents are still here, but once they leave, you know that I’ll have to punish you, right?”

“Hold on, let me check something.” He dipped a finger into your folds and smirked. “Ah, I was right. You’re wet from playing with my cock earlier. You enjoyed that just as much as I did. My cute little sister loves me this much, huh? It makes me happy.”

Tobio pulled his pants down halfway, tugged your underwear to the side and started grinding his bulge against your core. Your breath hitched in your throat. You could hear the sound of the tv and your parents cleaning up.

“Tobio-nii…hn…. s-stop, Mom and Dad might hear us!”

“Not until you say ‘Nii-chan, I love you’.”

“You said you weren’t going to do anything!”

“When did I say that?” He groaned when he felt your pussy clench over his clothed dick. “Fuck, you’re getting my boxers all damp. You shameless whore, you’re actually getting turned on from this.”

You tried squirming from his touch but accidentally grazed your clit on his erection, causing you to let out a moan. A dark grin appeared on Kageyama’s face, and he stripped off his bottoms, rubbing you with his bare cock.

“Mnh…Nii-chan, I…ah! Love you!” You panted. “I-I said it, so let’s stop already!”

Your lips parted when you felt him ease his length into your entrance.

“I changed my mind. It feels way too good when your sopping cunt is squeezing me like this.”

Your juices dripped down his shaft as he rammed himself harder inside you, hitting all the right places. “You dirty fucking slut, you actually want to get caught, don’t you? You can’t wait to see their expressions as they watch their kids fucking, huh? You just want me to drag you downstairs and take you on the kitchen table, right in front of their eyes, don’t you?”

You couldn’t think rationally, it felt so good; you were already hurtling towards your climax. He captured your lips to prevent your noises from escaping.

When he let you go, you realized that his hand was no longer holding you down. You braced your hands on his firm shoulders and your hips moved to meet his thrusts. You spread your legs open to take him deeper and he cursed at the sensation. “Shit, say it again, say that you love me.”

“Mmn, fuck…love you. Nii-chan, I love you!”

He pounded into you even faster. “That’s right. What’s so wrong about us?” he repeated. “What’s so wrong about a darling sister loving her Nii-chan?”

a/n: ngl it was damn hard to look my parents in the eye after writing this.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu dark content #kageyama smut #kageyama tobio smut #kageyama tobio x reader #cw:incest #kageyama x reader #cw: dubcon #cw: blackmail #hq smut #hq dark content #haikyuu x reader #jia writes

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ncitygirls · 3 years

Text

yours - jaemin x f reader

fluff, smut, bffs2lovers, 3k

before joining you to your cousin’s wedding, jaemin had made a big deal about not being properly invited. as always, mark kept true to his habit of innocently causing trouble when it suited him. ‘i’m like family! where’s my invite!’ but it was hard to fault mark, because of course jaemin had been invited. somehow, his parents neglected to inform him that your cousin had rightfully assumed jaemin would know he was included in the na family’s invite. you said nothing though. especially when jaemin had briefly explained the reason for his displeasure. ‘we deserve our own invite, y/n. one for us together.’ which made no sense at all, because you’re just friends. you’re not together. however you had no idea you were alone in thinking that.

you see, jaemin was more acquainted with your family than some of your own relatives. he was invited to christmases, weddings, birthdays. basically any and all occasions your family saw fit to celebrate, jaemin was in attendance. yet surprisingly, even after having grown up alongside you and mark, a few of your more distant cousins were more than happy to express their displeasure with his more forward placed seat. because, like you keep reminding everybody: jaemin is just your best friend. but apparently, best friends didn’t reserve the rights to things you gave to jaemin. not in your extended family’s eyes. not that yours and mark’s family cared.

yet in the end, like most things regarding you, jaemin knew his attendance tonight had been a mistake. but not because of the petty feud his presence birthed in the lee lineage. oh no. it’s because, unlike most nights jaemin spends in your company - with your hair strewn about, mascara permanently smudged, and a lazy grin etched on - tonight, you were his least favourite kind of y/n. the one where he can’t help but follow you with his eyes, watch the placement of your feet, enjoy the shrill tone of your cackle. throughout the night, jaemin had found himself warmed by the way you drag your balled up fist over your made up eye, how you sing along to songs you don’t know the words to, how you wobble in your heels before you cling to him.

jaemin makes the mistake of enjoying you a bit too much. how you scowl as your relatives chat shit a bit too loud for you liking, how you make a scene of conspicuously covering his ears, unaware of how unbothered he is. how you try so hard to make him happy, in the smallest and largest of ways. so he drags you into a dance when you move to walk over, ready to rip your own blood a new one. “i’m gonna kill ‘em.”

“no,” he states simply, one of his hands slipping from your hand to your waist. “dance with me.”

“who do they think they are!” your voice adopts an unsettling shrillness that he can’t help but chuckle at. it even throws his head back. “why are you so happy? you should be mad!”

“because i don’t care,” he shrugs, tightening his hold on you slightly. “i’m here- you’re here. why would i not be happy?”

“you’re such a fucking leo.”

he still doesn’t know what that means, but he laughs anyway, happy that your deduction seemed to satisfy you. you eventually calm down, a peace settling over you as he spins you lazily around the dance floor. there’s some early 2000s track playing, one definitely unfitting for the way he’s swaying you. but you pay it no mind, speaking softly as he presses his cheek to the crown of your head.

“when do you wanna head up?” up, meaning the hotel room your relatives are also wound up about. it was intended for the bridal party and far travelled guests, neither of which they are. and neither of which you are. but you were your cousin’s favourite. and so was he. so naturally, you two had one reserved. even your parents had opted to stay at a cottage a couple roads over. “i think the boys are all gone already.”

he notes the guilt tainting your tone, knowing how drained jaemin grew from both physical and social interactions of any kind. so you knew well what his answer would be. “when you’re ready.”

“okay,” slipping out of his hold, you drag him over to the newly married couple. you exchange brief goodnights and grateful tidings before he excuses himself to find the jacket of his tuxedo. the search doesn’t take long, his eyes landing on the black coat a few seconds after parting. he does give himself a breather though, his knees cracking as the seat holding his jacket readily carries his weight. he doesn’t dare shut his eyes, knowing full well he’ll fall victim to his fatigue. so instead, he let’s them follow the one thing that always occupies his mind, that can keep him up all night. he finds you far quicker than he did his coat, the pink satin of your dress falling half way down your calf as you skipped over to bid some other guests farewell. he sighs happily, glad you never force him into such tedious pleasantries. you learnt a long time ago that while impossibly affectionate, jaemin’s social clock ticked a few hours faster than any one else’s. so by your timing, it had probably expired a little after the vows. it took a little bit of getting used to, but it also meant for quicker farewells and a speedier exit.

it’s only now jaemin realises this was a mistake. because before he ever gets his breather, less from you, but all the feelings that come from being with you, you’re at his side. he’s learned how not to cease up at your touch anymore. instead, linking his fingers with yours when they rest gently on his shoulder. when he peeks up at you, his eyes blinded less by the party lighting and more by your tired smile, he knows not to sigh, forcing down his body’s natural response to your attention. but when you tug at his hands, bringing him to stand, whispering a-

“let’s go home, yeah?”

he knows this isn’t a mistake. this is torture.

it’s how you pour him a tall, ice cold glass of domesticity with every meal. your hand wrapped in his as you lead him through the hotel. you slip out of your heels somewhere between the lobby and the elevator, grinning up at him as he takes them from you. jaemin even curses himself, his body responding to your needs unthinkingly. he tries to calm his beating heart by counting the floors, his eyes following the analog dial as you lean against his shoulder, fiddling with his cuffs.

“do you want them off?” you ask softly, barely a touch louder than the elevator music. he nods, though your gel nails are already picking at the gold, removing them with ease. “gimme the other one.” he inhales deeply, cursing whoever gave you to him. well, not really. you weren’t really his. but god did you act like it.

your hands slip into his pocket for the room key before slipping back into his hand. he just follows you out, caught in a happy daze as you take him ‘home’. you struggle a bit with the key card, trying it every which way before he leans into you, wrapping his arm around you as he reaches for the card. “the arrow’s pointing this way,” his thumb nail presses on the black arrow indicating the direction you have to push it. he doesn’t see you roll your eyes, but he guesses you do. so he presses his lips to your temple in apology. “you’ll get it next time.”

“piss off,” you laugh, pushing the door open when it clicks. he throws the heels and jacket on a chair by the door before collapsing onto the adjacent couch, his body ready to succumb to his dire need for rest. he can just about hear you rustling through the bags in the bathroom, your feet padding around on the linoleum. when it muffles slightly, he figures out immediately what you’ve returned for when you stop between his thighs. “thank you,” you sigh, his fingers already pinching at the zip on your dress. it sits low at the base of your spine, the back of the dress leaving you completely exposed. he’d taken to placing his hand there all night, his fingers gliding up and down the skin whenever he got the chance. when it’s down, his eyes linger on your hips, the top of your panties peeking out before you slap his knee.

“what?”

“the necklace,” your back is still turned, hair blocking his view. “please?” you add, hand smoothing over the skin of his knee.

“come here,” he pulls you down to sit between his thighs, his legs parting to make space for you. you land with a huff, quickly realising you haven’t sat down all night. jaemin realises this too, your neck craning a bit further to the side than necessary as he tucks your hair over your shoulder. “you okay?”

“mhm,” you hum, squeezing his thigh. “just a bit sleepy.”

“a bit?” he laughs, a little breathless as he gathers the chain he got you one christmas. “i think you’ve earned a good sleep.” he surmises, hands squeezing your shoulders gently. “but you know you were a guest today, right? not the planner?”

“yeah?” turning onto your knees, you glare down at him. “someone had to sort my uncle out, he was steaming!”

“yes, true,” he laughs. “just make sure you’re not doing that at my wedding.”

you feign surprise at that, “i’m invited to your wedding?”

“of course,” his hands squeeze yours earnestly before he whispers, “can’t have my wedding without the bride, can i-”

“fuck off!” his cackles chase you out the room. while you wash up, he makes quick work of his tux, throwing his slacks over the back of the couch, his thumbs slowly unhooking each of his buttons. a true man of leisure, he’s in all but his socks and draws when you return. “all done!” you sing, throwing the dress down as you reappear in an oversized t-shirt. he recognises it almost immediately from uni. it’s his soccer team’s jersey. it has his number on the back.

“finally,” he whines, pushing you aside as he makes his way inside, quickly locking the door to avoid your attacks. he goes to reach for his wash bag just to find the reason he did already waiting unpacked. in a small cup on the side is his toothbrush, resting sweetly beside yours. he ignores the hygienic implications of this and skips right to the romantic. because, while jaemin thinks and often dreams of placing your first name with his last, and while he spends most of his free time with you, and while he would take any number of bullets for you, he still can’t for the life of him figure you out. even after he bombards you with affection, praise, teasing, flirting, kisses. you’re still just you. making him just him.

and that’s fine, if that’s what you want. but he’s not sure he truly knows what it is you want. and this gets him thinking about the little things. how his hand is seldom empty in your presence. how you never think of him second, always first. how you want to be with him always. moments like now, when he returns to find you hanging his tux on its hanger, encasing it in its protective sleeve. his arms slip around your waist, pulling you flush against him. and you melt instantly, resting in his embrace. “thanks,” he mumbles, lips pressing gently to your shoulder.

“‘is okay,” you hum, hanging it over the back of the door before resting your hands over his. see, hands never empty when you’re near. he sways you back and forth, his heart beating gently into your back as you lean into him. “did you have fun?” you ask, squeezing at his forearms, “i know we probably stayed later than you’d like-”

“it was great.” see, always putting him first. “did you want to stay longer?”

“not without you.” see, how you want to be with him always. he wonders how you don’t see it. how you don’t see you’re killing him. “come on,” you mumble, shutting off the light as you blindly drag him to bed. jaemin has an annoying habit of following you in, his body shuffling in after yours, rather than separating and meeting in the middle. it doesn’t allow you much room, by the time you reach your side, he’s encased you in his arms, legs, even his head, his chin slotting itself in the crook of your neck. “nana?”

“hm?”

“i’m sorry about today,” the apology doesn’t shock him, but rather your disappointment. “you’re more like family to mark and i than they ever were. tonight was just proof of that.”

“it’s okay,” he squeezes you a touch harder, trying to decipher whether your words harm or soothe the growing hole in his heart. “i can’t say i don’t see where they’re coming from.”

“what d’you mean?”

“i dunno,” he starts, thinking as his lips press to the back of your neck. “i guess i’d be confused by us too,” he mutters against your skin.

“how so?” you press, turning in his hold, gazing up at him. his eyes are more than used to the dark now as he gazes back down at you. you’re tucked right up to him, the covers strewn over your lower halves. he rests his temple on his palm, elbow pressed into the mattress as you fiddle with his fingers. “what’s confusing?”

he shrugs as best he can, watching his hand in yours. “i dunno,” he repeats, grinning when you huff. “i just- i think it’s hard for people to get that i’m your friend,” he tries, “just your friend.”

“what else would you be?” what else? what else?!

“i dunno,” he repeats for the third time, though he knows exactly what you’d be. but you don’t need to know that. not when you seemed so happy, so satisfied with how things are already. and that’s what’s most important to him. your happiness. and jaemin couldn’t exactly say he wasn’t happy with how things are either, he just knows there could be more to you both, more to this. more to him than being your best friend. but maybe it’s for another night. like he tells himself every time you push a topic you’re not remotely ready to breach. “let’s forget it-”

“no,” he flinches, just preparing to settle down for sleep. “am i missing something? if i am, just tell me.”

“i-” he drops his forehead to yours then. he’s so close, your eyes have to cross just for you to see him. it’s only when he rises you see a change in him. a nervous jaemin isn’t one you’re use to. it’s one that you would rather never see, it truly worries you. especially as he agrees, a small “okay,” leaving him before he kisses the tip of your nose, his lips barely puckered as they meet the skin. he grins as he does, his teeth gleaming in the moonlit room, his eyes open just wide enough to see you. his lips drop to your cheek, warming as your skin does. he hovers there as your hand tightens on his arm, clinging to him. he daren’t move, afraid the slightest jolt will wake him, drag him right out of this sleepless dream. when your grip loosens, he drops his head until he’s right by your mouth, his lips daringly puckering before he presses them to the corner of your lips. he stills as yours do too, your soft lips, now embalmed in his memory, pressing there ever so gently before he rises once more. he waits a second, watching the smallest of shivers rack through you before he dips again, lips falling to your neck. he smiles against your skin, overjoyed as you subtly crane your neck. his teeth drag over your skin as he journeys down the column of your neck, your hands gripping onto him a touch harder when he stops.

his fingers glide along the skin of your side, thumb pressing into the dip of your waist. he stops short of your chest, locked mid motion as he watches you breathe. there is no haste in his movements. no need to rush anything. no need to hurry. all there is, is a beat. a steady one in his chest. one that holds him here, one where he can’t move, can’t bring himself to test the waters you’ve just dared he enter. not even as the pads of your fingers glide along the warm skin of his neck, nails dragging through his nape, silently daring him to move. he pants over your chest, a lazy grin pulling at his mouth as you ask him again-

“what else would you be, jaem?”

he moves unthinkingly. as his dampened lips meet the hardened nub through your t-shirt, sucking on you through the aged material. his rolls his teeth gently, his fingers at your side finding your neglected nipple as you whine out for him. he feels himself slipping into delirium, caught somewhere between a dream and reality, unsure where exactly he’d rather be. he decides it doesn’t matter, not when you’re there. here. with him. letting him touch you in ways he never really thought possible. ways jaemin only ever imagined, only ever let himself surrender to in the dead of night. in the solitude of his own shameful company. he never thought of this. not really.

he had hoped, maybe even prayed, but never truly believed he’d have you whimpering for him. your fingers falling in the gaps between his own, pressing his open palm harder against your thinly veiled heat, your hips rolling against it. jaemin never thought he’d hear your whines, the sound cutting through him like knives, like ice shooting through his veins. he never thought you’d want him. not like this.

“jaem,” he’s with you in seconds, his spit slick lips an inch above yours. he watches patiently as you grind up against his hand, feeling his fingers prod at your desperate heat.

“you wanna know what else i could be?”

you nod. “please.”

“i could be yours.”

#i haven’t got the range #also i have jaemin on the brain and friendship too!#meet me at the altar #ncitygirls #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #needs another proofread #enjoy!

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