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#a lot of my childhood was him wanting me to ‘turn on the art’ for other people and create things on demand for him.
icterid-rubus · 7 months
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My dad just gave me an early birthday present. He’d taken all of my sketchbooks, from the earliest years to college, scanned them, and created a slide show that he put on for everyone to watch together.
All I could do was sit there in abject horror as he—essentially—displayed my life’s diary entries on the big screen for everyone to consume.
He’s so proud of it and I can’t even tell him how incredibly violated I feel.
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ahundredtimesover · 4 months
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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 12k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕
Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰
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Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.
It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee. 
You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile. 
He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.
It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise. 
“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”
Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss. 
“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”
“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”
“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”
“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”
At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh. 
“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”
“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”
You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved. 
At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”
He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again. 
“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”
“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”
“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.” 
“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”
“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”
“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.” 
“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that. 
“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.
Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly. 
But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.
You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.
You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong. 
Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants. 
She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face. 
“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”
You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly. 
“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”
“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.
“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in. 
“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—” 
“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true. 
And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his. 
But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay. 
“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”
The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss. 
“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room. 
You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.
“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?” 
Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head. 
“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”
“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”
“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”
“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down. 
With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile. 
“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”
You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.
“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”
“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”
“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues. 
“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”
“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”
“But I—”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass. 
You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.
“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”
Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.  
“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.
In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala. 
As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell. 
He’s unfairly handsome. 
He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.
The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze. 
“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.
“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him. 
“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters. 
“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”
Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.
Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”
“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say. 
Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.
“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says. 
“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached. 
“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”
You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.
Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.    
Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway. 
“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”
“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”
Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.
Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok. 
Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them. 
There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point. 
“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison. 
“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”
“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind. 
“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you. 
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”
“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”
Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.
“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.
“No.”
“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”
“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”
He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.
“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”
“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”
“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.
“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”
“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”
“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds. 
“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”
“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”
“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.
“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”
“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”
You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.
But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.
“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around. 
But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father. 
You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.
“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk. 
A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”
You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out. 
As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.
“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says. 
“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly. 
“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”
“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”
You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.
“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”
“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”
“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”
You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day. 
You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day. 
All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.
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Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks. 
You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so. 
You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you. 
There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily. 
You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised. 
“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.
“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”
You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.
“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs. 
He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.
“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?” 
“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.
You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in. 
“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”
You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed. 
You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.
Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first. 
He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.
“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”
“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”
You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected. 
Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make. 
You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed. 
But of course, he has to ruin it again.
“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings. 
Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done. 
You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough. 
It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough. 
You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon. 
It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day. 
They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.
His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.
“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.
He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting. 
How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t. 
You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting. 
It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you. 
Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs. 
You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same. 
You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge. 
You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files. 
You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents. 
“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that. 
“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door. 
You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.
You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger. 
It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.
“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes. 
“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.” 
You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.
Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours. 
Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.
“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”
“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”
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Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything. 
But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.
You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.
[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you? 
You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation. 
You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do. 
It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty. 
You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.
“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”
“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more. 
“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.
He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you. 
“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.
“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”
“Well, duty calls. What can I do?” 
“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies. 
“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle. 
“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”
“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites. 
Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment. 
“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.
“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”
“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”
“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs. 
You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction. 
You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.
“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”
“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”
“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing. 
“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back. 
“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it. 
You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career. 
“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.
“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm. 
You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.
“Need help?” Yoongi asks.
“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.
“You brat.”
You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this. 
“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder. 
You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today. 
From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.
He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision. 
Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.
Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.
But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.
That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.
He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.
That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you. 
Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.
It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.
Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.
But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.
“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”
Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.
“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”
“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly. 
Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.
“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”
“So you’re actually friends?”
“Yes.”
“Were you more?”
Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.
“Does it matter?” The older man asks.
“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”
“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”
Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede. 
But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply. 
“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”
Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.
“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know?  But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”
“How are you still friends?”
“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.
“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”
“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”
“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs. 
Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”
“How brave,” Jungkook remarks. 
“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans. 
“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”
“I already do. That’s why I…”
“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”
“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.
“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”
“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.
“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”
Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.
“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”
“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.
“The cafe down the street, then?”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans. 
But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.
So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.
“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says. 
“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”
“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”
“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”
Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now. 
He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.
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word count: 10.2K
paring: Sero x fReader
warning(s): dirty talking, fingering(f! receiving), premature ejaculation, messy sex, semi-public sex (if ya squint) - you know the works here, pretty standard smut, nothing too crazy.
authors note: Happy Belated Birthday to me! Not only did the amazing Onyx give me this idea MONTHS ago about the dynamic between Sero and I, but this won the poll for what I was going to work on next - and though I went with Bakugou's story first (cause it was fresher in my mind) I have finally finished this! AND OH BOY, how self-indulgent I was with this one - I am not known for my dialog but couldn't help but put lots in here! That being said, I did try and keep this as generic as I could, just may not be AS generic, ya know? Anyway, I hope you all love this glorified tape dispenser as much as I do~🔮
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Sero had always loved to draw, even when he was a little kid. What started as scribbles covering the walls of his home turned into small doodles - those that filled his notebooks more than his writing and school work turned into piles and piles of sketchbooks that were filled with intricate drawings and were stacked high within the confines of his room. 
He remembered being little, using washable markers to doodle fun patterns and designs on his arms and the arms of his friends, remembering how most recess breaks were filled with doing a doodle request for several fellow classmates. To being older, and having those same classmates come up to him to see if they could utilize his skills to make projects look nicer; to make epic banners for school events, or to make posters pop in his signature way. Even while he was in college, next to a prestigious art school that only accepted a handful of creatives a year, he had people beg him to create designs for tattoos they were wanting to get; willing to pay lots of money so they could forever have a drawing of his on their skin.
And that sparked something inside him. A passion to turn a hobby into a career.
It took years and years of effort, of schooling, of practicing, of littering his skin with designs both good and bad - and subsequently spending more time fixing his faults - and then shadowing those more experienced, to be taken into their shops and under their wings, so he may draw on the bodies of those that were hoping to decorate their skin. Not all patrons were ideal; some were not hygienic, and others moved too much and then complained of sloppy work, demanding a refund. And not all shop owners were pleasant to work for; many accepted clients even when they shouldn't, often dismissing those beneath them out of pride and a superiority complex, and always taking the side of those patrons trying to scam him and his time. But there were a few people that made it all worth it in the end, a few colleagues turned friends that made ‘sticking it out’ much more bearable.
And without all the bumps and hurdles, Sero would not have become as confident in his abilities and his worth, and he would not have had the chance to meet so many amazing people and artists - some of which had the same goal and ideas in mind as he did; who would follow him wherever he went. Before he even knew it, Hanta Sero finally achieved his goal, of making his childhood dream and hobby into a reality. He finally owned his tattoo parlor. 
He found a little shop within the city, perfect enough for him and a few friends to call their own, to create their own brand, and to make their own living; to finally call the shots and have complete creative control. The building itself was a little run down - something to be expected with the small price tag attached - but it was the ideal size for all of them and in the perfect location. So no one cared that it needed a few months of intense TLC to get the building up to code, it was more than worth the effort. And before anyone knew it the inspector came to claim the building was up to standards, giving the business license and the all-clear to start accepting patrons; it only took a few days before people heard the news.
When word got around that Sero and his business partners had finally opened their shop, to start accepting clients and creating art on their skin that they would enjoy for a lifetime, so many jumped on the chance to get an appointment with them - Sero especially. Some were people he had known for years, eagerly awaiting another drawing of ink, and some were those that saw his work on the many social pages advertising the business that wanted to add another to their growing collections. Whatever the case was, once he turned on the neon ‘open’ sign on the day of opening, he and his friends were booked for months in advance.
And the cherry on top of all of this? Another wonderful addition to the streams of success he was facing, was the bookstore that sat just across the street from him. 
Not because he was into books, though he did read from time to time and enjoyed it when he did, but because of the owner that bookshop had. At first, he couldn’t be sure you were the owner, but day in and day out he watched you show up at opening and leave at closing, and unless you were an incredibly dedicated employee, it was an easy assumption to make. And Sero couldn’t deny that he thought you were pretty when he first caught sight of you through his window after closing on his first day; and he couldn’t deny that he would wait with anticipation when you closed your shop and would begin making your way home, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute face.
He wished he had the free time to go and speak to you, to see you up close and hear your voice (which he could just tell was adorable and sweet), but his clientele made it nearly impossible for him to get the chance. By the time the last client would leave, your shop would already be closed, and for some time, with you nowhere in sight. There were just simply not enough hours in the day for him to spare to meet you; as well he was terrified of canceling an appointment or rejecting a client so early on in all of this, afraid that one bad comment could ruin the shop and cause it to sink.
But Sero always made the best of any situation, that was part of his charm. He figured that if he didn’t have the time to go in and speak to you, to properly act on his little crush, he would let you know who he was and his existence through different means. 
Romantic gestures that could be seen as small and friendly - those that wouldn’t scare you off or have you become afraid. He started by sending you flowers; a small bouquet to help liven your shop if you wanted; which you did if the vase by your check-out counter was any indication. Next were chocolates, all bundled in pretty wrapping paper for you to carefully tear away. Then balloons, attached to a small gift basket with quality skincare items that could be found at his shop with his business card nustled amongst the jars and tins to ensure that you knew who sent them and that it was from the new neighbor across the street - not some strange admirer. 
He could tell that you liked them, given the delight that bloomed on your face whenever you received them - the bright smile as you brought those flowers to your nose to inhale their earthy scent, or when you eagerly started to open up some of the chocolates to enjoy, or when you carefully inspected each tin of cream; placing a small dollop on the back of your hand before putting them aside and back to your work. Sero especially knew you liked them when, a week later, you sent a gift basket back to him filled with artisan treats from the local farmers market; with a card welcoming the new store to the neighborhood.
After a while of staring hopelessly at you, to the point where all his friends were relentlessly teasing him, Sero finally made the decision to meet you properly; to make his way over to your shop to say hello. 
“And it has nothing to do with Kaminari!” he exclaimed at Kirishima and Mina, ensuring they could hear him over the snickering, as he grabbed his jacket to sling over his shoulders.
“Sure, whatever you say, big guy~” Mina sang as waved goodbye with a wink, clearly not buying it - especially as Kaminari just got back from your shop, book in hand that you recommended.
Sero shook his head, out of frustration at Mina’s words knowing that she called his bluff, as he slammed the door shut behind him and briskly walked across the street; breathing a sigh of relief, one that made the tension in his shoulder slack, when he stepped foot into your shop. It was everything he thought a bookstore should be; it was cozy and warm, the kind that would make anyone instantly at ease and would spend hours just curled up to read; which he assumed the patron he walk passed had been doing all day.
“Welcome! Can I help you?” A voice sang through the air, causing his head to turn to face a young woman - sadly not you - wearing an apron with the store's logo on it.
“Uh, not sure.” Sero smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment, and as a polite hello, before gazing around.
“First time here?” She inquired, moving behind a nearby counter to grab a stack of books.
“Yeah, pretty obvious huh?”
“A little, many have the look on their face when they first come in. It’s a little overwhelming at times, the place is a bit bigger than they assume.”
“You could say that again…” Sero could hear her airy giggle, watching in the corner of her eye as she began to sort through the titles.
“I can give you the run down if you like?”
“Please, if you don’t mind.”
“Not a problem at all, sir.” She smiled, pausing her task to free her hands for gesturing with her explanation  “This place is a lot like a library, people can come and go as they please, staying all day if they want to, without the pressure of needing to buy something. They can also borrow books for a small fee if they want, to ensure they don’t waste their money on a bad book, or they can obviously purchase them if they want.”
“A safe haven for those that love books, huh?” Sero chimed with a smile, taking another glance at all the sitting areas close to him - the plush pillows and fireplace inviting for those that would want to curl up.
“Pretty much, that was the idea” The employee agreed, already starting to sort again “Have a look and take all the time you need.”
Sero left her with a ‘thank you’ and another nod before venturing further into the store - taking stock of what sections of books there were and all the small cozy nooks for people to curl up in; taking his time to explore the entirety of the shop before leaving. “For research purposes, in case I wanna go back” he would mumble to himself, ready to defend his actions from his teasing friends upon his return. It was for those reasons, and those alone, not at all because he was trying to find you.
He finally did come across you, after what seemed like hours of searching, hidden away within the Historical Fiction sections tucked near the back walls, shelving some books that were stacked within your arms and reorganizing the ones that had been misplaced. To say Sero was smitten with you would have been an understatement before, but now? Seeing you so close? Smitten would not even begin to compare to how love-struck he was; one so strong it struck him dumb and left him unable to do anything but look at you.
“Sir?” 
Sero couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not to have your voice call out to him; luck that it broke him out of the stupor he was in, unlucky that he was unable to say or do anything more than gaze up at you with his mouth agape.
“Do… do you need help with anything?” Your sweet voice called out to him again, though clearly confused, and it made Sero look away to try and gain his thoughts once more.
“A-art book.” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning hot and red as his eyes did their best to look anywhere but you “Looking for one of those.”
“Well, which one?” You smiled, biting your lip to hide it as you gently placed the books you were holding down.
“Art, The Definitive Visual Guide” Sero blurted, voice sounding rushed as he named the first art book he bought when in college; watching as your brows furrowed as you took a moment to process what he said.
“By Dixon?” 
“Y-yes!” Sero exclaimed, eyes brightening and heart swelling with pride when you giggled over his excitement.
“Well, that would be in our art section, which would be…” You began to lean forward, carefully perching yourself on your ladder to see past the bookshelf currently in your way “Ah! Just over there!”
“O-over there?” Sero nodded, trying his best to not be affected by the smell of your shampoo as it lingered in the air as you moved to stand upright again “T-that’s perfect thank you!”
“Oh, no worries at all! You just let me know if you can’t find it okay?” You smiled, already picking your books back up.
Sero smiled back, giving a wave goodbye, before almost scurrying away; head hanging in defeat once he knew you were out of sight. A small part of him hoped he couldn’t find the book so he could talk to you again, but he knew that would be a mistake - especially as the spine of the book stared right back at him when he first began looking in the section you sent him to. Begrudgingly he accepted his fate, bringing the book up to the front cash and paying the borrowing fee to the employee he met earlier.
He came back to the parlor feeling like a complete idiot over messing up his first proper encounter with you, not doing at all what he planned to do - not being the effortlessly charming and fun guy he knew he was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep stopping by. 
After all, he had to return the book he borrowed.
~
Sero waited a week, in his mind if he went back the next day it would cause him more harm than good; would lead to you asking him way more questions than he would want about the book itself - and well, he already made a fool of himself once. Besides, the week-long buffer would allow him the chance to clear his head and come up with a game plan, so he could be properly prepared himself to see you again.
Because this time he wanted to start an actual conversation with you, one where he could learn about who you were, why you opened this store and everything in between that led to this moment in time. He wanted to know if his crush on you was justified, or if he should just cut his losses now before he was in too deep. But to be fair, based on what all his friends have said, he already was; even so, he couldn’t hold onto that book forever.
Regardless of what the outcome may be, he had to see you again; even if it meant rescheduling a client for a Sunday to make up the lost time, he just had to get to you and your store before closing.
And it was the perfect time to go he found. The store was almost completely empty, with seemingly no one else in the building but you as you began your usual routine for closing - so dutifully organizing stacks of papers and placing books that needed to be returned into a neat little pile; he almost felt bad for clearing his throat and breaking you out of your stride.
“H-hi!” You exclaimed, your body jolting in surprise when you regarded him, clearly not used to anyone being here so late “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner, I hope you weren’t waiting long!”
“No you’re fine, I just walked in,” Sero reassured, taking a step closer to your counter.
“Oh, are you here to return that art book? The one by Dixon?” You asked, back straightening as you smiled up at him. “I hope you liked it!”
“I did, it was a great read.” Sero mirrored your smile as he handed the book back over to you, enjoying the way your smaller hand brushed against his briefly “Though I was wondering if you could me find a similar book?”
“Sure, of course! Do you want a recommendation or are you looking for a specific title?”
“Uh, Creatives on Creativity is what I am looking for,” Sero said, breathing a mental sigh of relief over remembering the title - one he only heard of a day prior when searching for art books to ask you about.
“Creatives on Creativity…” You mumbled, turning to your computer to check if you had the title in stock - the sound of a keyboard clacking could be heard, filling the silent space briefly “By Steve Brouwers?”
“Yup! That’s the one” Sero confirmed with a nod, perfectly hiding the fact he was completely unsure as he watched you round the counter of the counter with a wave.
“Yeah, we should have a few in stock if you would follow me!”
You took him back to the Art Section, your stride confident as you weaved your way through bookcases and magazine towers, as you began locating the book in question; trying to remember where exactly you cataloged it - whether it was with the Art Help books or the Art Education ones.
Sero followed behind you, keeping his stride to a more casual pace to avoid possibly stepping on your heels, as he regarded your profile; enjoying the concentrated gazes, those mixed with slight perplexity, as you looked from shelf to shelf trying to help him out. Never before was he grateful, and possibly will never be again, about having trouble trying to find a book.
“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke, watching as you began to stand on a small stool to look at a higher shelf, figuring his time was running out.
“Uh, sure?” You muttered, voice soft as you continued on your hunt. “Go ahead”
“I’m sure you get asked this all the time, but I’m curious as to what a bookshop owner's favourite book is?” 
“Oh! Wow, that’s a great question!” You said, finally sparing him a brief glance with a smile “And one that’s kinda tough to answer. I love books from all genres for different reasons, so to compare one that’s horror to one that’s fantasy is a little difficult to do.”
“Well, what are you enjoying right now?” Sero asked, body leaning against the bookshelf so he could continue gazing up at you.
“Uhh, wow what am I reading right now?” You chuckled nervously as your mind began to race, feeling your cheeks heat up as you heard him do so as well “Let's see… probably The Historian, it’s a thriller mystery kinda deal - involves vampires and stuff - it’s proving to be quite fun” 
“Vampires?”
“Yeah… it’s historical fiction. It blurs the lines of what happened with whatever our imaginations can think of with the folklore of Vlad Țepeș and Dracula. Partly why I like it I guess…”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sero hummed, watching as you scanned the titles before you, almost as if you were counting each one for inventory later “Take it that’s why you opened this place? Fell in love with reading books from far and wide?”
“Something like that” You agreed with a shrug of your shoulders “Wanted to be a librarian, always thought they had a great gig going on, and one thing led to another and, well, here we are.”
As you spoke your deft fingers delicately pulled the book you both were looking for from its place in the self, where it was hiding. Once you secured it in your grip, you slowly descended from your stool handing the book out to him once your feet were securely on the ground.
“And here you are.” You smiled, watching as he stood upright and uncrossed his arms.
“Thanks, for finding this for me” He gingerly took the book from you and tucked it under his arm, smiling wider at your cheery response back; following you obediently back up to the cash to once again pay the borrowing fee.
“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Sero began, fingers tapping nervously against the wood of the countertop “I have one more question to ask ya.”
“Sure, go ahead!” You giggled, amused by his polite curiosity as you began the transaction of payment.
“Would you want to go for some coffee sometime?”
His question made your fingers fumble on the touchpad, causing an error screen to pop up and for you to almost frantically try to fix, and you nervously cleared your throat; face going hot in surprise and embarrassment over your stumbled, and failed, answer back.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or make you uncomfortable” Sero tried to soothe, hands raising up and away from the bubble around you to prove he meant no harm “Just think you’re cute and would like to treat you to some coffee, that’s all.”
“W-well, that’s um, very sweet of you, I just um…” You floundered, doing your best to finish quickly so you could hide away from him - to shield him from witnessing your embarrassment further “Just don’t think that would be a good idea?”
“You don’t? Why not?”
“Y-you know, we’re strangers! We only met a few days ago and all….”
“Actually we’re neighbors, good ones at that if our gift exchange was anything to go by.” Sero clarified, watching as the realization of who he was crossed your face, his hands lowered to shove themselves in his jacket pockets before shrugging his shoulders “But hey, not gonna pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to that’s cool, I won’t pressure you!”
“I’m flattered, believe me, just….” You countered a sheepish look on your face as you passed the book back his way for him to take “Maybe some other time.”
“Sure thing, thank you again,” Sero said, giving you one last small smile before taking his book and leaving; wishing you a good night as he walked past the threshold of your store with a wave.
A few things were certain that night; the first being that you were worth having a crush on, and he would love the chance to treat you right. And second, you were not used to the straightforward approach, and if he didn’t want to screw anything up, he would have to be patient and go about things slowly.
But Sero Hanta was up for any challenge, and you were more than worth the wait.
~
After that night, Sero found himself stopping by your shop a few times a week; to return a new book he borrowed (and spent the night before diligently reading), and to further chat with you. The conversations were always led by a question or two before it sparked into something beautiful - he loved the way you would ramble, talking with your hands, as you explained something, how passionate you got over the things you loved, and how blessed he found himself when you tried to tell a story from when you were younger but couldn’t over your laughter of remembering it all.
And after each night, when the conversation had reached its end and the book he had paid for was tucked snugly under his arm, he would, without fail, ask you out on a date as he was leaving your shop; in love with the smile and the amused shake of your head when you bid him a simple goodnight, to - “try again some other time” - before shutting the door behind him and switching you sign to closed.
Slowly but surely you were coming out of your shell, becoming more than eager to spend the last hour in his company; you didn’t realize it right away, but soon you found yourself noticing how excited you got when you would greet him. Or how you would try and keep the conversation going just a little bit longer as you walked to the cash, not wanting the night to end so soon. And how you would linger close to him before closing the door and saying good night. He was fun company, some of the best you ever had, and you couldn’t deny that you were starting to catch feelings for him too; to slowly become as enamored as he was.
Sero noticed this little factor as well, after a couple of months of visiting, when it was you who ask him a question; as you gingerly took hold of his arm to get a better look at the intricate tattoo that was perfectly placed on his forearm after handing him his recently purchased item.
“Did you do this yourself?” You whispered, almost in awe, as your fingertips barely brushed over the details of the design.
“Yeah,” Sero breathed out, quite taken aback by your bold action - though nowhere near complaining. “Took a while, but I think it turned out great.”
“Did you design it too?”
“Mm-hmm, designed all the tattoos on my body.” His eyes shifted their gaze from his arm to your face, “Wanted to work on my skin first before anyone else’s, just in case I wasn’t good at it.”
“I think it’s safe to say that you are, it’s beautiful work.”
“Do you have one?” 
“N-no…” You broke your gaze away, taking a step back from him - completely aware of how close and possibly inappropriate you were behaving.
“You want one?” Sero inquired with a clear of his throat; wanting nothing more than to move closer to you again, to gain that moment of intimacy once more, but knew he couldn’t
“Well yeah,” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “But I just never really know what to get, and I don’t wanna regret getting something cause it’ll be on my skin forever, you know?”
“I can design something for you if you want?” 
“You would?”
“Obviously, wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to!” He smiled, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a marker from your countertop “Just tell me some things that you like, and I’ll come up with something! See, I already know you like owls, and foxes, and of course historical fiction and fantasy books…”
“Sero, listen this is really sweet! I am honored you would do this for me and all but….” You began, cutting him off from his parade of knowledge of all things you loved - heart swelling almost uncomfortably with the attention - “But really, you don't have to do this for me.”
“You kidding, I would love to! If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done this for a living; hard to make a career out of something you hate!”
“Yeah, clearly, I obviously get it. But even so, you’re booked for months! You got plenty of other clients that need your attention and designs a lot more than I do.”
“Oh ho~ How do you know I’m booked for months?” Sero teased, enjoying how you looked away in fake annoyance as your shoulders raised in embarrassment “Even if I was, which you’re so cutely right that I am, I would reserve a spot for you regardless.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it can be after hours too, if you wanted.” Sero offered, with a shrug “Ya know if that would help put your nerves at ease; less people and all that stuff. And it could help make you feel better about accepting my offer~ I wouldn’t have to cancel on a client if you did.”
You sighed, shoulder slumping as you weighed his very tempting offer. You had been wanting a tattoo, ever since the new parlor opened across the street; and especially so every time you looked in Sero’s direction - the ink that was littered across his skin was beautiful - now here was the most perfect opportunity to finally get one and to get some more alone time with the artist himself; you knew you would regret it every day if you said no; despite your nerves telling you otherwise.
Squaring your shoulders you finally looked back at him, giving him a nod of approval over his proposition.
“Yes!” His fists thumped the counter as he proclaimed his excitement over your acceptance “I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll start working on the designs tonight and will have them done A-S-A-P!”
“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at his childish behavior “Sounds good to me.”
“Oh! One more thing!” He passed the marker over to you, his palm slayed out as if acting as a canvas “I’ll need your number so I can both let you know when the design is done and so I can book you in for your appointment.”
“Okay, well then hand me the paper you were just scribbling on” You pointed and the scrap paper, brows furrowing when you watched him shake his head ‘no”. 
“No can do babe, it’s covered with stuff already. Just write it on my hand”
“Sero, this is a permanent marker, I’m not going to do that!”
“I think I’m more than comfortable with permanent ink on my skin,” Sero winked, moving his palm closer to you “It’ll come off in a few days, but hey, if you don’t want me to leave you could just say so~”
You couldn’t help rolling your eyes again, hating that he was right and you were wasting time yet again to have him stay longer. You acquiesced, taking hold of his hand to keep it steady as you carefully wrote your number, being sure it was as clear as possible to avoid any confusion or mishaps that could be caused if you didn’t.
You watched as Sero left, head held high and chest filled with puffed-up pride as he sauntered back to the parlor; clearly happy with himself at winning you over and gaining your number.
~
It only took four days before you got the message from Sero; stating, with plenty of exclamation marks, about how your design was done and to stop by at any time to come and review the sketches - he was more than happy to squeeze you in at a time that worked best for you; whether that be between a client or after-hours.
And well, the thought of coming after hours was tempting, your confidence in quelling those nerves that swam in your stomach wasn’t strong enough yet; you were already pushing your limits when it came to the tattoo appointment. But the thought of you extending your lunch break by a few minutes seemed like a good idea.
The sign said ‘Closed for Lunch’ when you finally made your way across the street, and though Sero was insistent that you could come in regardless, you were still a little hesitant; standing by the door debating whether to knock or just walk in.
The decision was made for you when a woman with beautiful soft pink hair opened the door, startling you out of your thoughts as she asked if she could help you with anything.
“I-i’m just here to review some sketches…” You mumbled, hands playing nervously with your phone that still had the messages from Sero open “But I can come back if you’re closed!”
“It’s with Sero right?” She inquired, golden eyes squinting at you as they scanned you from head to toe; 
“Yeah..” You nodded your head, trying your best not to shift your body in reaction to her gaze.
“Oh my gosh! So it’s you! The librarian across the street!” She squealed, wasting no time in taking your arm and pulling you into the shop  “I’ve heard so much about you! Just been dying to meet you! I’m Mina, one of the artists here.”
“Bookstore owner….” You mumbled, casting a shy smile her way as you gave her your name “Heard about you as well, it’s really nice to meet you too”
“Right, bookstore owner, sorry about that!” Mina waved in apology, taking a step back to appraise you once more “and I gotta say, super jealous of Sero that he snagged you as his client; you’re a total babe! Like, that outfit is to die for! Where’s you get it?”
You could feel the blood rush to your face at her statement, her brazen compliment both flattered and embarrassed you as you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as you gazed down at what you were wearing.
“And oh my god, your nails!” She exclaimed again, taking hold of your hand to inspect closely inspect your delicately painted fingernails “These are so pretty! Where’d you get them done?”
“Uh, the spa a few blocks down the road” You answered with a breathless laugh at her enthusiasm “They always do a good job.”
“I can tell! I’ve always wanted to check them out, but was a little unsure, but now I’m definitely gonna go as soon as I can!” She squealed, squeezing your hand in delight “Oh, but you’re not here for me, which is a total bummer. Sero’s station is just back here, I’ll let him know you’re here!”
You gave her your thanks, appreciating her help and unknowingly helping you become more at ease, as she led you to Sero’s area; leaving you with a wave and a promise he’ll join you in a few minutes. 
His area was quite spacious, possibly the largest out of the others you passed, and the furthest from the front door. His chair and equipment sat near the center of it all, just slightly off to the left for others to pass by, and looked clean and organized as you peered around the room. He had a work table as well, pressed up against the wall, with a book of design and sketches.
If you were braver you would have opened it and gone through the slightly worn pages to see what they contained. But instead, you opted to scan the wall before you, taking in the fun, wild, and beautiful designs that were taped to them; staring in awe at just how beautiful they all were. Masterpieces in black and coloured ink, ones you were sure some lucky people got to wear proudly on their skin.
Or perhaps they were littered on his…
Sadly, you couldn’t allow your mind the chance to wander to such thoughts, to wonder just how much of his body was covered in ink and how low some tattoos would travel, before you hear his footsteps approaching.
“Hey! Admiring the wall?” He greeted, his smile as bright and friendly as always when he greeted you
“Yeah, the designs are beautiful” You glanced back at him with a smile “But I think you already knew that.”
“What can I say, just like hearing people sing my praises!” He joked with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before walking up to you “But we’re not here to talk about these, eh?”
You watched as he gently, smoothly, pulled open a large drawer at the table you were currently standing at, one you didn’t realize was there given the sleek design. Carefully he pulled out a tiny stack of papers, laying them out before you to inspect and admire, as his arm kept him leaning over the table, and more importantly, you.
You tried your best not to be affected by his voice, how his breath tickled your ear, as he spoke about the direction he went with the designs. Some larger, more detailed as they encompassed all the things you loved - like the barn owl sounded by flora and books before a full moon - and some that were smaller, simply beholden of a single item you loved, like a sitting fox amongst fall leaves; and where on your body each tattoo would be placed.
He left a pause when he was done speaking, allowing you the chance to mill over what he said; to further inspect his designs, and to take your time in picking out what you wanted most; unable to help himself from staring at you, eyes half-lidded, as you bit your lip in concentration.
“I like the fox,” you finally whispered, pulling the sketch closer to you to admire it further, already imagining where it will sit on your arm.
“Yeah?” was all Sero could breathe out as he leaned in closer to you
“Mm-hmm” You nodded, finally turning your head to face him; watching as his eyes gazed at your lips, causing you to do the same “...h-how much will it be?”
You could feel your breath catching in your throat as Sero ignored your question, instead taking the opportunity to lean his face closer to yours; feeling his breath gently fan against your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation; wanting nothing more than to feel what his kiss would be like.
“Sero, delivery is here!”
A gruff voice is what made you turn your head away; face scrunching in frustration over the unwanted interruption. You heard him sigh; feeling cold and a little disappointed when you felt his warmth pull away from you.
“Yeah… I’ll be right there Bakugou…” Sero spoke firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding frustrated and annoyed as he looked back at his friend “Just finishing up here.”
Sero took another deep breath, one that turned into a loud sigh, over the now-ruined moment as he pulled the fox design from the pile of paper; taking a step away from you with a shake of his head.
“Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.” He gave a pained smile, slowly backing his way towards the backrooms, to where Bakugou was waiting “Just pick a day with Mina and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”
You simply nodded your head, giving him a small smile and wave as you watched him disappear; taking the time to finally release the air you were holding as you clenched your fist in anger over your ruined kiss; at how perfect Bakugou’s timing was in all of it.
But after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh; shaking your head in amusement as slowly made your way back to the front desk to book your appointment; knowing you had to get back to work soon and relieve your assistant.
~
It wasn’t long before the day of your tattoo arrived; the Saturday you booked it for came faster than anticipated, though the entire day felt like a year as you kept glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed, only to groan to yourself when it showed a mere 10-minutes.
Cataloging books did help with your dilemma, taking your mind off the many hours between you and seeing Sero again, as you continuously went up and down your little ladder to put the many returned books away. And before long, it was 9:00 pm, and you could flip your sign to ‘Closed’ and make your way across the street. 
You were surprised, given that the parlor was supposedly closed - or at the very least seeing their last clients at that point of the night - to see all the artists by the front desk chatting away; almost as if they were waiting for you to arrive.
“There you are!” Mina exclaimed, making her way from behind the desk over to where you stood, taking your jacket, and hanging it up for you “Thought you got cold feet on us!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that” You smiled, allowing her to complete her courteous gesture “And if I did cancel I would make sure you knew.”
“Are you excited!? First tattoos are always the most fun!”
“I am! Been looking forward to this all week!” 
“Oh, I’m sure you have~” Mina winked, “Now, let me introduce you to the other artist! Well, we’re all friends here but ya know.” She guided you over to where the three men stood, pointing first to a blonde with an unamused expression “You already met Bakugou last time you were here, I think you met Kaminari when he was at your store a few weeks back. And that giant redhead is Kirishima - he looks more scary than he is!”
 “It’s really nice to meet you!” Kirishima smiled, nudging Bakugou to acknowledge your presence - which he did in the form of a nod - before extending his hand out to you to shake “Heard a lot about you, been meaning to stop by your store for a while now. Apparently, you give good recommendations!”
“Oh, I do?” You asked, gingerly shaking his hand with a confused expression
“Of course you do, babe! Why else would Sero keep bugging you~” Kaminari jumped in, winking as he took your hand in his own and squeezed it “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods finally.”
“Okay okay! That’s enough, you guys!” Sero finally emerged, walking his way in between the group to disperse them; pulling Kaminari away from you to force him to let go of your hand “You should all be getting ready to leave, as you said you would!”
“Oh come on man! We just wanted to say hi to her!” Kaminari whined as he, and the rest of the group, were huddled towards to back of the place while you stood in place, fighting off a wave of giggles that were threatening to overcome you over the whole scene.
After a moment Sero returned, smoothing out his shirt as he tries his best to act as nonchalantly as possible; an act you could see right through given the blush that was dusting his cheeks but decided not to comment on.
“Sorry about all that, you ready to get started?” He asked, hand running through his hair nervously.
You hum in agreement, head nodding as you let him guide you back to his station; once there he motioned for you to get comfortable on the plush leather chair as he got his equipment ready.
 “Your friends are really nice,” You commented, tugging up the sleeve of your shirt for ease of access.
“Yeah, they are” Sero admitted, chuckling to himself “Pains in the ass half the time, but they mean well”
“Well, that’s how you know they love you” You chimed, sitting more upright as you watched him press an alcohol swab against your skin for a moment
“Guess you’re right.” He shrugged, holding up the stencil of your tattoo next to your arm “You want the tattoo here or a little lower?”
“No, there looks good! After all, you are the expert” You smiled, allowing him to press the paper against your skin; feeling him pressing down on it, before removing it to showcase the temporary art that was to forever be marked on your skin.
“Yeah that looks good,” He murmured, taking his tattoo machine in hand and dipping it in ink “Now, you let me know if this hurts, or becomes too unbearable okay?”
“Okay..” You bit your lip and nodded your head as you stared at the machine.
“Don’t worry, on arms you normally can’t feel anything” Sero reassured “ and I’ve got a steady hand which helps. All this just looks more scary than it is.”
“Like Kirishima”
“Yeah!” He laughed, shaking his head at your silly, but accurate, comment “Just like Kiri. Now, take a deep breath for me, kay?”
You nodded and did as you were told, taking a deep breath as his machine whirled to life; you watched with bated breath as it approached your skin, letting out a large sigh of relief when it finally touched you and no pain could be felt.
“See? Not so bad, yeah?” Sero smiled, slowly beginning to outline his design.
“Yeah…”
You didn’t converse much after that, not because you didn’t want to, but rather because you were blown away by Sero’s skills and concentration. You had never seen this side of him before. Normally he was goofy, animated, and fun, which you thought was endearing and cute; gave him his boyish charm. But now? As you watched his brows furrow and eyes look at you with such steely focus, you couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive. Choosing not to break the silence in fear of breaking his concentration, and thus this newfound allure, or embarrassing yourself.
Though he did make it difficult.
Throughout the entire session, every time he needed to shade something or thicken a line, he would always praise you after; claiming you were doing ‘such a good job’ for pushing through it; or for being called a ‘good girl’ when you took a needed deep breath at the right moment in time.
He said it so often that you can’t tell if he’s being reassuring or doing it to get a rise out of you; to tease you to see you get all hot and bothered.
Whatever the case was, it was affecting you way more than it should have; lighting a small fire deep within your core as you tried to rub your thighs together without him noticing to relieve some of the newfound pressure, as you suppressed all the small squeaks your wanted body wanted to let out every time another praise left his mouth.
It was agonizing torture in the best possible way; and when the session was finally done, when he was gently placing cellophane wrap over your fresh tattoo, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that it was all over.
“How much…” You gently cleared your throat, voice a little raspy over underuse “How much do I owe you again?”
“I already told you, babe,” Sero chuckled, carefully putting away his equipment “It’s on the house, my treat for you allowing me to borrow all those books.”
“You paid for those, Sero” You shot back, legs moving over the side of the chair as you leaned closer to him; showcasing your cleavage further from the lowcut hem of your shirt “I can’t just let you give me something like this for free - it’s not fair.”
“I told you, I like doing this.” He shrugged, ignoring you and your subsequent subtle attempts of seduction “More than happy to do this for you, think of it as a first-timer bonus!”
“There must be some way I can pay you back”
It was your tone that made Sero’s back straighten, clearing his throat he carefully placed what was in his hand down to turn and face you - breathing ceasing when he saw you sitting so pretty for him; the dark look in your eye making this cock twitch to life in his pants.
Sero couldn’t help it when his tongue poked out to lick his lips, unable to stop his eyes from trailing over your figure sitting before him; his own legs spreading further apart as he shifted a little closer to you; making you bite your lip. 
“How about finally going on that date with me?” He offered, hands twitching in his lap as he tried his best to restrain himself from touching you without permission.
“Payments happen immediately after a service…it wouldn’t be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job” You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his “I prefer to pay you back now, kay?”
“Kay…” Sero barely even had the chance to whisper the word out before your lips pressed firmly into his; hands fisting into his shirt to keep him from pulling away.
As if Sero even wanted to move away, his own hands reaching out to pull you closer to him; closing any inch of space between him and your soft body. His hand cupped your face to deepen the long-awaited kiss that he dreamed about for weeks, as he slotted between your legs, groping and pinching the meat of your thigh as he hiked your leg up to wrap around his waist as he placed more of his weight onto you; groaning into your open when your clothed cunt brushed against his hardening length.
Your sweet, breathless, mewls were addicting and it made his mind dizzy with lust as his lips descended down your jaw and onto your neck; licking and sucking on the sensitive skin you so graciously barred to him, biting down on your pulse to hear you cry out his name into the heated air as he continued to grind his hips against yours.
His kisses continued downwards to your chest, pulling your shirt down - not bothering or wanting to take a mere moment to part from you to properly rid yourself of the article of clothing - before his lips began to suckle at the plump flesh his found; moaning into the heated flesh as he relished the way your hand began to tangle and tug at his hair.
It was all so much, and yet not enough for you; the fire that slowly emerged in your core was raging for me, not being fully satisfied with his sweet kisses or the grind of his hips. You needed more, been craving for more for hours, and you were starting to get a little impatient as you guided the hand pinching and stroking your thigh up to your core.
“Sero, please, touch me more,” You sighed out, legs widening to give him better access as held his hand against the damp cotton of your panties
“Hanta,” He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit “call me that, and I’ll do what you want, you needly little thing.”
“Hanta, please? Want you…” You whined, arching your back in an attempt to get more friction; unable to keep the smile off your face when you heard him groaning; clearly loving the way his name sounded off your needy tongue.
“That’s a good girl, hips up” He gently coaxed your lower half off the chair to pull your panties down your leg; pocketing them for later, before slowly guiding your legs to spead even wider for him “Already so wet after a few kisses, hm?” 
You looked away, face buried into his neck, the heat burning your cheeks in embarrassment over his teasing, as you nodded your head - unable to muster the courage to say the truth - as your heart fluttered over his rumbling chuckle.
“Aw, are we shy now?” He teased even more, deft fingers spreading your lower lips apart to gently stroke at your hardened clit “You weren’t shy a second ago when you asked me to play with this pretty pussy, want me to stop?”
He felt you shake your head, a sweet little whine accompanying the motion, as you continued to cling to him; your warm breath, coming out in pants, next to his ear made him slow his pace to one that could barely be considered movement.
“I dunno, it sure seems like you do” 
“N-no!” You mumbled, gripping his shirt tighter; biting your lip to suppress another whine threatening to escape. “Please don’t stop..”
“Then let me see that pretty face, hm,” He asked, tone still mirthful as he watched you slowly come out of your hiding spot “There you are, look at you, huh? All cute and flustered, you like what I’m doing that much?”
You nodded your head, once more, voice squeaking out a ‘yes’ as you felt his fingers resume a faster pace - swirling your bundle of nerves before slipping into your wet heat; your own hand coming down to grasp his forearm over the sudden intensity.
“That feels good, baby? You like my fingers?” Sero hummed, lips grazing your ear as he leaned closer to you, gazing down to watch his fingers go in and out of your drenched hole.
“God yes, Hanta!” You couldn’t help but cry out, throwing your head back, as you felt his fingers curl; stroking that sweet spot within your gummy walls that you made you see stars.
“Yeah you do,” He groaned, feeling your slick drip down his wrist as he repeated the motion “you wanted this, didn’t you? That’s why you wore that cute little skirt, huh?”
Sero watched you nod your head, though the blissed-out look on your face made him question if you even heard what he said as your hips began to wiggle, legs shaking as you neared your release.
“Can feel you twitching around my fingers, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?” He asked, as his free hand pushed down your squirming hips “Hey, hey, don’t whine! I’ll give you what you want, promise”
His swollen lips brushed against your collarbone, a subtle gesture to prove he meant what he said - that he wasn’t going to tease you or stop you from going over the edge; his thumb twisting up to rub at your clit to help ease you over the edge you were climbing.
“That’s it, cum for me, god you sound so pretty, keep twitching for me.” He groaned, fingers working frantically as your cries grew higher in pitch.
Everything went white for a moment, an end to the mounting pleasure he was giving you, the world was forgotten for a brief moment as you succumbed to the pleasure; your back arched almost painfully as your legs clamped around his wrist; your entire form shaking from the intensity as eyes rolled back into your skull. The only thing that kept you in the realm was his deep voice cooing down at you as you felt your juices run down your thighs and stick to the surface of his leather chair.
“There she is…” He mumbled, lips kissing all over your face and chest to slowly help ease you back down “Slowly, that’s it, you did so good for me…”
“Hanta, s’too much!” You whined, bucking your hips away from his still-moving fingers; ones that were still slowly stroking your soaking cunt; hissing when he finally took them out.
“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, hands returning to stroke your thighs and hips as he gazed down at you “You certainly know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh? Never had a girl do that from my touch.”
You groaned one that turned into a giggle, as your hands came up to your face to hide from another wave of heated embarrassment “Well, to be fair, never had a guy touch me like that. Can’t blame a girl for enjoying it!”
“No I can’t, glad you liked it so much, baby” He murmured, pulling your hands from your face to kiss you once more, murmuring sweet nothing to you between each small kiss as his hands wandered again, up and down your body, smiling into the kiss when he felt your hands do the same.
“A-ah!” Sero moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking to your small hand that started to stroke at the large bulge in his pants; another one choking out, ending in a whimper, when you applied more pressure.
“Can I return the favour?” You asked, voice sounding so saccharine and confident that it made his head spin at the total 180 you just pulled with your demeanor.
“N-no,” He whimpered out, hand grasping at your wrist - just as yours did before - to stop you from continuing your sinful motions.
“Why not?” You whined, the pout you gave almost made him regret his choice, “Wanna make you feel good…”
“I know you do, but I won’t be able to last long if you keep that up” He reasoned, clasping your hands in his to bring them away from his twitching, aching cock.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“God, you’re too much…” He mumbled, head shaking in amusement as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to let you get the best of him as he watched you squirm.
Your pout was still prevalent on your swollen lips as you gazed up at him, calling out to him once more in that saccharine sweet voice “But I wanna make you cum.”
Sero couldn’t help but groan again, head turning away from you as he thought of anything else at that moment - things that made him cringe in his past - to try and stop himself from creaming in his pants like a teenager. With his voice strained, hoarse with effort, as he instructed you to lay back.
You do as you are told, heat in your belly igniting once more when you hear the clinking of his belt unbuckling; bending your legs up, to get betting frictions on your tingling nub, as you waited as patiently as you could for his return.
The chair groaned, squeaking slightly, at the added weight Sero provided, as he situated himself between your legs once more. You gasped, one that turned into a moan, when you felt his cock head tap at your entrance; his hard length sliding up and down your slit - teasing you as he coats himself in your juices.
“Hanta…!” You groan out, hips bucking to try and slip him inside; groaning once more in frustration when you feel his hands pin your hips down once more “Hurry up!”
“So impatient, naughty, naughty, naughty ” He clicks his tongue at you, chuckling at the frustrated glance you cast his way “Just give me a second, don’t wanna hurt you after all”
You huff, brows furrowing further as acquiesced; knowing thing it was for the better to have him take things slow - but the burning in your core was making it difficult for you to have a clear and level head; wanting nothing more to feel him fill you up.
After another agonizing minute, you slowly feel him sink into your heat; feeling his fat cock stretch you out so agonizingly slow that it makes you throw your head back and moan; mouth agape as you feel every inch bury itself deeper into your core.
“God, you’re tight!” Sero hisses, body taut as he holds himself above you as he continued pushing into you “Already milking me, baby, damn!”
You both groan when he finally bottoms out, breathing labored as they mingle together in-between tiny kisses as you both try to adjust; legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to you, as he begins his slowly thrusting into you.
His thrusts were almost teasing with how slowly he was moving, dragging his cock out languidly from your gummy walls before slowly returning back into your warmth - but they were precise, with each thrust hitting every sweet spot you had; making your eyes cross as you fell into the throws of pleasure over his slow lovemaking.
Over time though, Sero could not keep up the unhurried pace; what was once a tactic to ensure that he didn’t cum too early, to properly worship you and your perfect body, was now not enough - his body needed more. His lips attached to yours, kisses muffling the sweet moans that you were making as he slowly picks up his pace; thrusts turning sloppy and hurried, a fair cry from before, as Sero now becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure; frantically trying to chase his release.
The sloppy, wet, noises of your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the  sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it was becoming overwhelming - his thumb joining his frenzied hips as he rubbed at your clit; trying desperately to get you up and over that edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp his weeping cock as it did his fingers before he spilled into you.
But he failed, your wanton moans as they called out his name, and the sharp sting of your nails and they dug into his back pushed him too far; quickly pulling out with a choked wail he came; spilling his hot seed all over your thighs and stomach.
“I-I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to regain his breath - body, and cock, still twitching over the intensity of his organism; leaving you for a brief moment to get a clean rag from his equipment table to clean you up.
“Why are you sorry?” You asked, voice still raspy and sore, as you watched him methodically clean you up.
“Well, you know, about getting you all messy. And…. yeah…” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, too embarrassed to look at you or saw the real reason he apologized.
It made you smile, though you did your best to contain the giggles that threaten to pass your lips as you watched him. Sitting up, you pushed the hand that was cleaning you away, pulling him back down into you for a kiss.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind getting messy. Part of the fun, right?” You giggled, nudging your nose with his trying to lighten the mood; effectively making a small smile tug at his lips as he returned your kiss.
“Besides…” you whispered, hands coming down to teasingly stroke his chest “My place isn’t too far from here. If you wanted, you could spend all night making it up to me”
“Aren’t you a naughty girl,” Sero smirked, hands grabbing the meat under your thighs as he picked you up from his chair; moving your legs to wrap around his hips to keep you upright and in place “But, I think my place is closer.”
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multifandomwhore-003 · 5 months
Text
Deal? —Scrap
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x female! reader
Genre(s): smut, fluff, a bit angsty if you look closely
Summary: Finding a past love in the bedroom of your best friend's parents can lead to a lot more than just a quick catch-up.
Warnings: smut, fingering, no condoms (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, a bit of breeding link maybe.
Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 join taglist here
A/N: As much as I wanna be proud of this for being smut and therefore out of my comfort zone, I can't, you see this is what made me realize just how rusty I am in writing,like the fingers are creaking an screeching. Anyways, I tried my best, so... enoy?
Gif credits to whom it belongs
REQUESTS CLOSED
THIS IS NOT FREE USE,YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK
You could say it began right this second, finding yourself wrapped in a perfume that no longer had notes of peach and pear, the hours you had spent wandering around the crowd salted it with cigarettes and perhaps a vodka you shouldn't spending time thinking where it proceeded from. Taking a deep breath to relax was, a bad idea, was it the alcohol or this newfound smell that produced that wooziness? It was just for a couple of seconds at least since you could focus more clearly on the four walls you just stepped in, far too big for it being your old best friend's childhood room.
Reaching the windows to scan the city through the glass, glistening with passing cars every once in a while.
"Julie, you crazy bitch," you chuckled remembering how she had just recently bought the whole place to herself, including everything inside it, wanting to neglect her parents as much as they did her back when she was far too young to thirst revenge.
You could tell she hadn't changed anything, the side tables slightly covered with dust still, and the framed pictures of the "happy" couple on the shelves. She hadn't even dared to pull out her father's Cuban cigars she was always so curious about, the plastic around the rim being intact. Your curiosity peeked remembering her mother this time, the beautiful clothes that adorned her seemingly flawless frame, you paced quite rapidly to the walk-in closet, flicking through the infinite number of shoes and bags, finally reaching the hangers.
You didn't think twice before pulling out the most exquisite structure you ever laid your eyes on, lines curving in all the preferable places, covered in red hand-sewn crystals that matched the rest of the smooth fabric, invisible stitching, it was art. —It could pass as a Mugler— you thought, perhaps it was knowing none of Julie's things were ever cheap. You hesitated for a second contemplating your next actions.
"Fuck it," you began getting rid of the pink that had been covering your body the entire time, "She did say she was gonna gift me some anyway," you murmured. You could jump in excitement seeing how absolutely mesmerizing you looked, reflecting light that could easily be produced by your smile alone.
Before you had time to reach your phone from the bed the door closed, followed by rapid exhaling, you furrowed your brows, worrying more about the posible anxious someone.
"Are you okay?" you stepped out slowly.
The man jumped slightly, "Sorry, I'll leave," he began his exit.
"Don't, it's okay, you can stay here," you lowered your voice placing a hand on his arm carefully, "Do you need anything? Do you wanna leave?"
"No, I'm fine, I'm just-" he tried recovering his breath.
"It's okay take your time," you granted him a slight smile.
"I had to get out of there," he grinned, slightly more relaxed.
"What happened?"
"I was being ambushed,"
"By who?"
"Everyone,"
"Oh shit," you said a bit shocked, "What are you famous or something?" you tried to joke.
"I- I don't like using that word," he finally turned around.
"Okay, we'll use popular then, how's does that sound?"
"Way better," he was fully comfortable now.
"Ok Mr. Popular, do you wanna stay here the whole night? Or I can take you to the stairs and call you and Uber to be more discreet,"
"In that dress?" he pointed out.
"Oh! This isn't mine I kinda just borrowed it for a second, I'll take it off then," you simplified.
"Please don't, I was just messing with you, I'm Oscar by the way," he extended his hand as a motor raced by lighting his face.
You widened your eyes in a very pleasant surprise, "Oh my god, I knew the voice was familiar, fucking Pastry you should've started there asshole!" you pushed his chest.
With no time to ask you where you knew to call him that, his mind also clicked, "Y/N?"
"Yes, bitch! Oh my god!" you hugged him, "It's been so long, what are you doing here?! How did Julie even contact you?" your smile grew wider.
"Instagram!"
"Makes sense," you laughed embracing him again, "Look at you! You're a man!" you grabbed his shoulders, "Still got a baby face I see," you moved your hands to the edges of his face.
"Rude," he playfully pushed you away.
"Who am I kidding, back then I defended you to death whenever anyone pointed that out," you shrugged.
"They did?!" he found a new offense to that statement.
"Of course they did! Especially my parents,"
"Oh yeah, they never liked me did they?"
You just shook your head making him smile more.
"I would aks you how you've been but I already know, Mr. Rookie of the Year," you mocked, flipping your hair.
"I've been great, you? Did you end up marrying Zach Efron in the end?"
"Hilarious, truly," you squinted your eyes.
"You used to cry laughing at my jokes," he passed by you to sit on the bed.
"Yeah, well," you followed making him move to sit by his side, "In my defense a) I was madly in love with you," you rolled your eyes, "and b)My sense of humor was simpler at the precious age of 15"
"You were crazy about me," he nodded.
"Okay," you placed a hand on his face, "At least I didn't dedicate you a race on international TV which let me remind you! You lost," chuckled at the hilarious memory.
"Oh, I'd forgotten about that!" he slightly slapped his thigh.
"I sure as hell didn't! It was the last race I ever watched,"
"Really?" his head turned suddenly.
"Yes, really, by the time you were on the next one we were beyond over,"
"That's right," he closed his eyes, "I'm sorry for ruining motorsport for you,"
"It's okay," you slapped the air, "The heartbreak was far worse than never having to watch you again,"
"You broke up with me I was the one who was completely shattered,"
"Hey! So was I,"
He crossed his arms, "For how long exactly?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, "A week," you looked away.
"Ouch, I suffered all summer Christmas thanks to you,"
"I'm sorry," you scrunched up your nose.
"Wanna know something embarrassing?"
"More embarrassing than losing that race? I don't think there is anything that can be better than that,"
"What if there is?" he cocked up his head.
"I'll ..." you thought for a second, "I'll tell you my most embarrassing story, deal?"
"Deal," he accepted, "When I wrote to Santa I told him to gift me the golden locket you saw in your favorite movie, the Nutcracker one with Barbie so I could give it to you because all I wanted was your heart back again. Imagine how much I cried when instead all I got was an Xbox,"
You placed a hand to his heart, "Aw, that's adorable, but yeah it sounds pretty embarrassing considering your parents had to read that,"
"Your turn now,"
"Okay, but after that you can't tease me about it,"
"Alright,"
"After we broke up, the first time I kissed someone else, we were at a gas station, and when he bought me some gummy bears as I thanked him I said 'thank you, Oscar'"
He tried to bite down his laughter.
"He absolutely flipped, and dumped me that night in front of my parents who were waiting by the window,"
"Wow," he gulped clenching his jaw, "That's- That's rough," he cleared his throat.
You nodded slowly, "Humbling experience for sure," you sighed resting your head on him, "So, let me guess, you escaped the people who wanted to take pictures with you," you pointed at the door.
"Don't tell me about it,"
"I thought all you wanted was to be The Great Oscar Piratri," you exaggerated with your hands.
"Not great at all to be harassed all the time,"
"Yeah, sounds awful to have so many fans and money..."
"That part's fun," he admitted, "But everything else is just a bit of a nightmare,"
"I'm sorry, but you know what," you tried to lighten the mood, "What I'm absolutely most sorry about is that we..." you stood up taking his hand, "Never ended up living right... there!" you pointed at the most beautiful building of the view.
"Well for starters, you never married me,"
"I did! Well not legally but we had vows and everything,"
"And my cousin as our officiant, what a mess that was,"
"And all for a wedding night, that we never had,"
"I still can't believe we faked a wedding just so we could have sex,"
"To be fair, back then we were good children who followed God's rules," you whipped your index finger dramatically as you turned to see him.
"Your parents were awful,"
"About us yes, but you have to admit they weren't too bad about everything else,"
"No, they just made you break up with me after three years, nothing big really," he pouted sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, really, I never wanted that to happen, I was just- Young and brainwashed," you cupped his face, "And also, the next three years we spent hating each other didn't help your image so much," you tilted your head.
"Yeah, sorry for egging your house those Halloweens,"
"Don't apologize, me kidnapping your dog for a week was way out of line,"
"Archie is still alive, you know?"
"Really? That's great!"
"He's a bit old, but staying strong,"
"He better be, he tackled me down a couple of times when I visited you,"
"I still have those videos," he said proudly.
"No, you don't,"
"Yes, my mom still has my old phones,"
"Why though?" you complained.
"It's never been easy for her to let go of stuff,"
"Yeah, I remember she always invited me over to yours while you weren't around, but I just couldn't do it, I felt way too guilty,"
"I have to ask," he let out, "If it weren't for your parents, how long do you think we would've lasted?"
"I'm not sure, but I can tell you that back then I wanted you- I- I wanted this," you signaled between the two of you, "Forever," you grinned, nostalgia and regret adorning your entire semblance.
"I can rest peacefully now," he caressed your forearms.
"Why?"
"I had a piggy bank for our future engagement ring,"
You opened your mouth slightly, "I had a savings account for that Rolex you always wanted,"
"Guess what?"
"What?"
He showed you his wrist, "I got it on my own,"
"Show-off," you spat.
"It's better than stealing," he looked down at the garment adorning you, long forgotten under this conversation.
"I wasn't stealing, I was just- trying it on," you defended.
"It looks good,"
"I know,"
"Now who's the show-off?"
"At least you get to keep it,"
"Hurts doesn't it,"
"Fuck off, you can win all the races you want, but I bet you still can't beat me at wrestling," you got close to his face before walking slowly to the other side of the room.
"Is that a dare?"
"I don't know, if you're brave enough it is, if you're a coward then it isn't," you crossed your arms.
"I have muscles now, it wouldn't be fair," he added with cockiness.
"Don't patronize me, I do ballet, my legs are far stronger than your arms,"
"Bet," he stepped closer.
"Yeah, bet!" you clapped your hands before giggling as you began this ridiculous dance.
If you both hadn't been laughing the entire time you probably would've seriously hurt yourselves given how careless you were being, throwing each other on the bed and the floor over and over again. After a couple of minutes, the laughter stopped leaving you as panting messes still struggling for dominance, it wasn't until he laid on top of you that you considered giving up.
"I told you, I had muscles," he paused in between words.
"And I-" you gathered yourself as quickly as you could straddle his legs and with much adrenaline and heat flip him over, pushing his hands down to completely immobilize him, "I told you I did ballet asshole," You grinned devilishly in victory, "Ready to surrender?"
"Yeah, fine, I'm done," he truly wasn't, yet the sight of you in that position alone told him to stand down.
"All that driver training for what? Still, lose to your ex-girlfriend?" you let go of his hands only.
He chuckled under his breath, struggling to stand on his elbows, "Well, when she's the one that goes away, you have to let her win, right?" he confessed.
You licked your lips without knowing how to respond, however, being fully aware that something about you not removing yourself from his body told you that this was no longer part of a friendly conversation, perhaps it never really was.
—The one that got away— he had just described everything that needed to be said in one simple phrase.
"Sorry," he began to realize his words getting  his back to straighten up, "I didn't mean to make it awkward,"
"You didn't," you were incredibly doe-eyed as you met his gaze, "Just shut up before you do," you pulled him by the collar of his shirt kissing him. He knew how to respond, as he immediately hugged your waist with one hand, resting the other one on your thigh right before the hem of the dress.
"Carry me to the bed Oscar," you gasped in between his mouth, to which he obeyed, carefully lying your bodies to fir perfectly, like you always knew they did. Your tounge slipped in between to which he groaned in your mouth, fingers begining to inch closer to where all his teenage wet dreams met.
"Do it, please," you whispered, "Don't wait longer than you already have, just do it,"
As much as a part of him wanted to treasure this moment as much as he could, his more carnal side acted on behalf of your encouragement, circling your clit with his thumb as you moaned into him. You slightly thanked you were fucking him until now, a way more experienced and knowledgable version of the man you'd thought to be the love of your life.
He traveled to the back of your ear right, knowing more than guessing your sweet spot was still there, confirming it by how you lightly arched your back, pulling on his hair as he left a mark you were probably gonna regret so much later, pulling back to allow him access to your neck and jawline.
"You're so fucking wet,"
"Proud of yourself for that?"
"A lot,"
You could feel him grinning against your collarbone, slowly feeling the purple stamps, trailing to the top of your breasts that the dress ever so slightly allowed out, he contemplated his options for a moment, admiring your body in such a piece.
"Rip it off if you want," you mumbled.
"As tempting as it sounds, I want you to wear it for next time, then I'll rip it off, deal?"
—Next time— what twisted grave had you dove yourself into?
"Deal," you nodded.
"Now be a doll, and help yourself out of it,"
"Jesus Oscar, did you always have that under your sleeve?" you unzipped the sides.
"I saved it just for you," he pressed his thumb harder making you moan louder.
You slipped it over your head, tossing it away, "Keep saying stuff like that and maybe I'll marry you for real, deal?"
"Deal," he said against one of the nipples before beginning to suck on it.
"Multitasking motherfucker," you groaned feeling his middle finger pumping slowly into you, he moves his hands around for a living, of course, he was good at fingering, way too fucking good.
All kinds of sounds bounced off the walls and into your ears, sounds you only ever imagined on those lonely nights after the breakup, and so did he. More of your moand as he added his index finger drowned in the vibrations of the music for the outside to never find out how awfully loud you being for him, just for him; especially if his thumb switched to eight circles as he focused on your other tit.
"I'm close- I'm so close Oscar," you begged, "Go faster," you gulped, "Please,"
The most pornographic sound escaped his lips, "Beg again, beg for me," you obeyed without a second thought as he also did as told, keeping his pace as you reached your orgasm, whether you screamed or just raised your voice, no one will ever know, the music from outside and the cars rushing by braiding it in. By the time you realized, his belt clinked on the carpet floor, feeling as if in one motion everything in between you two was now discarded.
"I'm on the pill by the way," you whispered.
"Wasn't planning on having children until that wedding of ours, deal?" his tip rubbed against.
"Deal," you answered without ever crossing your mind how actually terrifying the idea of being pregnant was, just to have him inside you you would've signed a prenup right then and there.
He joined your lips again as he slipped inside, filling you up to the brim, with an unnecessary elevated ego that this whole situation resulted in, he thrusts into you mercilessly, you couldn't complain, his hands supporting his body on your hair, tangling all around the cover and his skin. Now being completely shameless it seemed as if you were competing to see who could make the most noise. You both came undone almost at the same time, Oscar having to battle with himself to get hard again as you followed his lead.
"I wasn't joking about next time," he mindlessly whispered in the crook of your neck.
"Neither was I, my place next time, deal?"
"Deal"
413 notes · View notes
relatableblorbopoll · 5 months
Text
Round 1 of preliminaries, group 11
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The first two places get a place on the bracket
Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket
Propaganda under the cut
Mae Borowski (Night in the Woods)
"Spoilers! She's a college dropout in her early twenties, who suffers from untreated mental illness and dissociation and had a complete breakdown at college, causing her to come home. Now she's living with her parents again, but life in her dingy little hometown went on without her. Her friends are adults now - in a relationship and planning on moving to the big city, or having to waste away in a dead end job instead of following their dreams. Mae is the only one without a new adult role in life. She's not great with people either - she's blunt and often doesn't think things through, and in many ways just doesn't get the world of adults. She's also prone to petty crimes and general anarchy. She's kind of lost and purposeless, and trying to find meaning in life by desperately clinging to the past. Her decision to drop out of college probably saved her life, but it's also put her family in a tough financial situation and is viewed by most people as her just thoughtlessly doing whatever she wants. She's also kind of shamed a lot about not having a job or other productive role in life, despite the fact that her untreated mental issues are actually disabling for her. She also plays the bass real bad. Anyway, i love Mae a lot. Playing this game as a college dropout in my early twenties, sitting in my childhood bedroom in my mom's attic, back in my dingy little hometown, desperately missing my old friends who have all moved on to better, resposible things in life... yeah, it felt like the game was pointing dead at me. Given tumblr's general demographic, i figure i must not be completely alone in this"
Shigeo Kageyama / Mob (Mob Psycho 100)
"autistic. likes milk. if we reach a certain level of emotion we turn into a psychic bomb. cool brothers :)"
Barry the Quokka (The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog)
"Their only skill is working the microwave, they're non-binary, when seeing a trash bin their first instinct is to look through it, they're always the most normal person in the room, they can beatbox, and they were only hired due to being the only one who applied."
Kaveh (Genshin Impact)
"In a fantasy world, be a guy with a regular profession losing his goddamn mind. Poor guy has a guilt complex, (so true) and a lot of deep embarrassment regarding his life.(ehe) He just wants to do what he's passionate about but capitalism is evil and also he keeps getting scammed. Claims to not want anyone to know Things, goes into depth about these Things anyway. Is probably most definitely gay. Can be found face down on a table lamenting his fate. Terrible sleep schedule. (HA) He is such a guy. Wants to believe the world is a good place and people are inherently good. And wants to help people and do good himself. It's just hard. [And he has a roommate. Oh my god he has a roommate]"
"He was, and still is, regarded a genius. He aced his Akademiya days, he has the admiration and appreciation of so many people because he is oh-so remarkable. But what for, when reality is that he sits at home depressed and with guilt consuming him, faking the image people have of him, not only broke as fuck but actually in debt, drowning his sorrows in wine."
Yusuke Kitagawa (Persona 5)
"highschooler who wants to spend the rest of his life doing what he loves. is obsessed with art and beauty and it's on his mind 24/7 received help from his now friendgroup to break from his abusive foster father who he still have complicated feelings with had to move into school dorms and am struggling to live independantly since he'd rather spend money and time on his art but he's still surviving and enjoying the good times id say also ends up saying whatever is on his mind and is pretty eccentric. very passionate about what he loves. doesn't want to do anything else."
Nanami Kento (Jujutsu Kaisen)
"Ex-salaryman, now jujutsu sorcerer. During one life-and-death fight, kept talking about how it was almost six pm with is when he is getting off work at 6pm no matter what because he hates overtime. While his opponent repeatedly almost kills him. Normalest adult in this shonen anime. Teen MC: "Let's go all out!" Nanami: "No. Where moderate effort will suffice, use moderate effort." Some of his quotes from the anime: "I studied at Jujutsu Tech and one thing I learned is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit! Then I worked at your typical company and one thing I learned is that work is shit! If both are equally shit I'll take the one I'm more suited to." "You've faced several life-or-death situations, but that does not make you an adult. Finding more fallen-out hairs on your pillow, watching your favourite stuffed bread disappear from the convenience store... The accunulation of these little despairs is what makes a person an adult." "I don't praise or disparage anyone. I adhere to facts and judge on that basis. That's who I am. There was a time when I mistakenly believed society operated the same way." "
271 notes · View notes
bakerstreethound · 8 months
Text
Etched in Stone
Relationship: Benedict Bridgerton x afab!reader
Warnings: 18+ spicy times (MINORS DNI), flirting, fingering, mutual pining, childhood friends to best friends to lovers, exposed ankles, fluff, softness, gentle/possessive Benedict, brief mention of alcohol and slightly tipsy momma Violet Bridgerton makes an appearance
Summary: Bored at yet another party hosted at Bridgerton House, Benedict seeks solace (and a strong drink) in the quiet of Anthony's office only to find you there, one of his oldest friends and buried feeling resurface.
All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT copy, repost, claim, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username) 
Word Count: 4.1k+
A/N: I wrote this fic for my lovely friend @frostandflamesfanfic a while back but wanted to take my time posting it because this was such a joy to work on and wanted to savor every moment. El was there for the beginning of this story so it's only fair I dedicate it to them as well. Thank you for trusting me to write one of your beloved fictionals. I drew a lot of inspiration from both book and show Benedict. Any era inaccuracies are fault of my own as well as where Benedict's room is located in the house. Graphic by @firefly-graphics . Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!!
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His piercing gaze hadn’t left you all evening, making your shoulders rise on the verge of danger, but the way his gaze bore into yours, and you couldn’t deny the shallow thrill or the pulsing in your heart. 
You hadn't wanted to come to the ball and despite your family’s protests and prodding you found yourself at the Bridgetron ball, dressed in the prior season’s attire, not caring about the gossip. It wasn’t like you had anything to prove to the ton or Lady Whistledown. A soft smile graced your lips at the thought and you round a corner, sipping on your lemonade, weary and the night was still young. You longed to be reading one of the adventures in your novels, whisking you away to another place and time, holding hands with your beloved. 
******
Benedict sighed for the third consecutive time in a row, making Eloise roll her eyes. “Brother, surely you can find some enjoyment from this party.” 
“When I tell you, I’ll let you know,” he grumbled, watching the couples swirl along the dance floor, his eldest brother Anthony pulling Kate close in his arms, a bright smile lighting her face. Benedict tried to hide the disdain, the ache resounding in his chest. He’d rather be locked away in his room, working on his art, perfecting the curve of a hand, the slope of a shoulder, silk between thighs. He shook his head, groaning before tossing back a glass of lemonade he’d picked up during yet another turn around the room. 
It did little to cool his blood. 
When he made his way to the study, he half expected to see Colin there sneaking a glass of Anthony’s secret stash, however, he didn’t expect you draped across a chair, nose buried in a book, legs curled over the arms of the chair, exposing your ankles. The smirk crawled along his lips for a fraction, enraptured by your stone-cold expression and you flipped another page, not uttering a sound.  He poured himself a drink, trying not to chuckle, and watched you intently. 
“Do you intend to stare at me all evening, Mister Bridgerton? Or are you going to ask me to pull myself together to dance in front of the entirety of the ton?” 
The drink almost lodges itself in his throat as he choked it down, the bewildered expression on his face the cause of your pursed lips. For the love, you were laughing at him! 
“Cat got your tongue, Benedict?” 
Oh, it was more than the cat that got his tongue, he wanted to swallow yours, combat your wit, fill himself with your words and beauty tenfold. 
Good gracious, what had become him? 
Here you were and he’d been watching you like a hawk all evening barely making a move and your ankles were there, tempting him, tricking him, enticing him. How ready he was to fall, the hold you had on him was indescribable. He’d been this way since he first laid eyes on you all those months ago. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on you. But how he wanted to fall with you, drag you along the dance floor show you off for the world to see. No, he would do no such thing. 
He would enshrine you in a painting, etch you into stone, a carving upon his heart. 
Warmth flooded your body as you continued watching Benedict pace around the room and you doubted he realized he had done so. A bedraggled state was becoming of him, accentuated by his ruffled hair as he muttered under his breath, stopping to refill his glass with something stronger than lemonade. 
You smirk, perusing the pages of your novel, which sparked an idea. 
“Benedict?” 
Your voice, oh your voice was a guiding light, his anchor, steadying him through the whirlwind of a storm conjuring in his head. 
“Yes?” His gaze met yours, and he stopped pacing standing before you and giving you a good look at his chest, the rise and fall of his breaths, reminding you to steady yours. 
You crane your neck up, looking him in the eye. “Read to me.” It’s a simple request, but you hide the quivering of your lip. He leaned in closer, engulfing you in his scent, causing you to bite your cheek to keep from groaning. It was heady and intoxicating and it was all him. 
“What?” 
Focus, you ninny! You cursed softly to yourself gathering your thoughts as you clung to your novel. 
“I asked if you would read to me. Literature is the art of words is it not?” You shifted in your seat, your feet now resting flat on the floor as any respectable proper person would have done from the start. You let out a soft groan when the balls of your feet touch the floor, and he leaned down further, his index finger barely stroking along your jawline. Your ankles were definitely covered now, but you suspected his reaction didn’t stem from that. 
He cocked his head. “You would prefer me to read romance to you rather than show you firsthand?” 
“Why ever would I need to experience such things firsthand? I have everything I need here.” Your stomach fluttered, almost dropping when he kneeled before you, his fingers brushing along your sides before grasping your thighs and squeezing gently. 
“You do have one thing right for this evening. We have everything we need right here.” Another squeeze of your thigh sent your mind reeling. 
“Does one intend to enact upon such desires, Mister Bridgerton? Or does one who reads such novels suppress them?” 
His hands traveled further up your thighs a silent challenge, one you were not backing down from despite the pounding of your heart. You were here with Benedict Bridgerton alone in Anthony’s study, someone you had known for years, a constant fixture throughout your youth, the source of countless daydreams and now, rather passion-induced dreams. 
“Do you know how long I’ve imagined this?” He growled low in his chest and you forget to breathe. None of the books you read prepared you for reality, not that you would confess. Benedict didn’t need his ego poked any longer, the more he knew he could unravel you slowly. 
You squirmed against him, tugging his vest. “I’ve wanted you for years but denied myself. I didn’t - couldn’t- imagine you felt the same,” your voice came out as a whisper, a plea for him to see you and he did. Benedict saw you and gazed at you with hope and adoration. 
He growled low in your ear, sliding his hands around your waist, rising to his feet pulling you against him, the racing of his beating heart restarting yours. He was your desire, your soul ached for him, knowing he was the only one you could ever hope to give yourself to. 
No one else in the world was meant for you or could compare to him. 
His heart beating in tandem with yours, clinging to each other, a lifeline. It felt like a lifetime before clarity finally made its way into the world, making its intentions known between you. It was more than the slow-burning passion and affection blossoming between each other.
His lips brushing along yours sent your heart soaring, connecting your souls and you welcomed him, and you were home, he pulled you flush up against him, groaning softly, digging his hands into your waist. He couldn’t breathe, utterly weightless, intoxicated by your scent, everything. He was high on you, your touch, oh how lovely it felt your fingers digging into his back, melting against him, needing him as much as he did you. 
This was love. It was Benedict in a new form, one you awoke, taking him back home, a home he’d always known for you were there through it all. He wanted to give you everything you desired, everything you deserved. And you would receive the best in return. But not in his brother’s study on his favorite reading chair. 
“Anthony will kill us if we do anything here,” He pulled away in a moment of clarity, holding you close, your legs trembled, overcome with your passions. You ached for him dearly, more than you knew possible. 
“I’ve done worse, I assure you,” you snicked, gathering your bearings, brushing off your outfit, ruffling out the wrinkles as if that cleared off any evidence of Benedict having his hands over you wasn’t obvious. “I’ve defiled my mind with notions of unrealistic nonsense.”
He raised a brow, looking unamused, a flicker of amusement flashing before boisterous laughter, likely caused by Lady Featherington passing by the door and you inhaled sharply, the anticipation ticking by each moment. As soon as it came it went, hopefully, spurred on in good spirits. Lady Featherington surely didn’t have half the mind to break into Anthony’s study.
Benedict cracked open the door beckoning you over, taking your arm by the elbow, “Up the stairs, second door on the left. I’ll knock three times so you know it’s me.” 
You nodded, taking in his appearance, his disheveled hair, mused vest, and undershirt beneath. You would be lying to yourself if you denied the excitement of what lies beneath but the other side of you was equally terrified. 
******
Dashing up the stairs was easier said than done, the events of the evening causing your head to spin in a mixture of wonder, anxiety, and borderline delirium. You were sure you were dreaming but the stairs beneath your feet are solid, beckoning you up to the elegant quarters where the Bridgertons slept. You glided your hand along the banister admiring the railing, willing yourself not to fall, raucous laughter closing in, dangerously close by from the sound fluttering through the halls.
Perhaps Lady Featherington sought to uncover your dalliance after all. That would be the talk of the ton, however, you knew the Bridgertons could afford some slander from Lady Whistledown, but fortunately, all she commented on was the growing size of the family, the lovely grandchildren Vicountess Bridgerton had the pleasure of seeing when Daphne and Simon returned to town. 
You silently cursed your attire and its restricted movement when you made it to the landing, stopping for the briefest moment to catch your breath. You didn't bother asking if his younger siblings were asleep, but he didn’t seem to care at that moment, the way his eyes glanced along your body, and the smile along his lips was far too distracting anyway. 
Your minds were busy with other thoughts, the taste of his lips still freshly imprinted into your memory. You did everything as he instructed, the door to his room groaning on its hinges making your heart race, but you peeked out the door to be certain.
No maids padded down the corridor, the only sign of life was the music and laughter intermingling for what you could imagine would be all hours of the night. The Bridgertons could throw a grand party, no doubt about it. 
Benedict's quarters greeted you with the scent of him, masculine and comforting. It felt like home, the furniture dark and handsome, the shelves lined with countless books, figurines along his desk not to mention his infamous sketchbook lying on his desk in the corner by the fireplace. Charred pieces of crumbled paper jutted out from the embers. 
Curiously, you reached out for it turning to a page. It didn't take you long to figure out the odd figures as you pieced each frame together, a culmination of finished pieces, sketches, and half-started attempts, frustrated pen strokes deft in their quest to uncover the beauty ready to bloom. 
Hands. Intertwined, graceful elegant, smooth lines, hardened ridges, callouses palms, delicately resting ones. Upon further inspection, you noticed the tried and failed attempts at an all too familiar pair of hands. It was odd to look at how he depicted yours, strong, yet graceful, adept at anything you put your mind to between needlework, horseback riding, the leather a fine feel in your hands.
You had to admit some were quite good while some lacked depth and luster. Practice made it worth it in the end, some of the figures he drew resembled a striking resemblance to his family, almost as if he were imitating the artist of the figurines, which when you looked longer were small likenesses of his mother, father, and siblings. The sight warmed your heart. 
"Benedict! You're missing the partyyy!" A shrill giggle outside the hall pulled you from your exploration, your heart racing in tandem. You hoped and prayed it wasn’t Gregory and Hyacinth. From your previous encounters, you knew they were sharp, keen-eyed, and inquisitive about a multitude of subjects on top of their general mischievousness. Plus, you weren’t in the mood to ask any questions, but where the hell was Benedict?
Despite yourself you began pacing, desperately trying to avoid glancing at the bed draped in fine sheets, a fine rich deep velvety blue coverlet gracing it giving the piece a regal appearance. You wanted nothing more than to lose yourself between the downy softness of it all and fall into blissful dreams, and yet, there are other pressing matters to attend to. 
The giggling resumed and you sighed, thinking better of yourself, not wanting this to be a joke.
You found yourself opening the door, greeted with the voice of none other than Violet Bridgerton whispering, on the verge of a quiet yell to her second song, grasping onto his elbow at the lower landing of the stairs. “Benedict! Good heavens, you’re to retire so earlyyyy???” 
He rolled his eyes half in amusement and exasperation. “Mother, I have matters to attend to, plus the other mothers merely want to hunt me for sport and pair them with their retched daughters.” 
His eyes flashed, glancing up, his gaze boring into yours, flooding your body with warmth. He quirked a brow, challenging you while his mother rambled drunkenly along, still grasping his elbow while he shifted his weight on his feet. 
Shut the door, he mouthed to you, causing your lips to quirk in the barest hint of a smile. 
“Quite right, you have a fair point. But there was that one lovely person you danced with twice back in the orangery perhaps…” 
At that exact moment, you opened the door further to grant yourself a better view of Benedict’s struggle and also partly in retaliation to his protests, only for the grand door to let out a massive agonizing wail. The giggle left you of your own volition at Benedict’s bewildered expression rendering you completely helpless as Violet looked up at you, the same Bridgerton eyes, older, wiser and so kind smiled at you, albeit borderline tipsy. 
“I see now I see. That’s the pressing matter you have to attend to. Don’t mess it up dear boy,” she slewed, chuckling to herself, before whispering in his ear, his face flushing in response. Violet released his arm, winking up at you before traipsing down the stairs, leaving a flustered Benedict behind to collect his thoughts before he came back to his senses, scurrying up the stairs while you slipped back into his room, posting yourself right in front of the door, keeping it cracked just so. When he arrived you only catch a glimpse of his eyes flashing before the door sealed you completely from his sight. 
Silence greeted you and you feared you might have ignited his wrath, alas you merely wanted to tease him.
The seconds tick by then three knocks follow. 
Were you going to answer him? Oh, he was going to make you pay for this with many kisses. He huffed before composing himself. 
You still didn’t answer. 
“Don’t play with me, dear unless you wish for them all to hear us when we should be dancing.” When he knocked for the second time, you decided to open the door, the scowl imprinted on his face illuminating a side of him you desperately wanted to see. You did this to him. Without hesitation, he locked the door behind him and immediately pressed you against the wall, a scowl forming along his lips. 
“You wouldn’t dare flash me before the eligible men of the ton tonight if you had to.” You whispered, brushing a stray hair off his forehead. “I belong to you, Benedict. Even if I am an old maid.” Your heart thundered in your chest. You were home, you belonged to no one else, nowhere else but here in Benedict's loving arms. 
“I am yours, oh love I’m yours.” His voice cracked, overcome with realization and the emotion of it all, his scowl replaced by pursed lips, wandering hands, lavishing your body in the simplest yet heat-induced touches and you wanted - craved - more. More of him. Benedict. Your Benedict. 
“Benedict, Benedict…Benedict,” Your was all you can muster with the meeting of his lips upon yours, feeling the depths of him, pulling to you crashing over you like a tidal wave. You were a sailor lost at sea who made it to the safety of the harbor and oh, it was blissful beyond anything beyond your wildest dreams. 
“Say it again,” he pleaded, each kiss awakening desires long suppressed, ones you hadn't acknowledged since they only came about throughout the course of your friendship with Benedict. Only he could put you under his unique spell, craving his lips, the brush of his hand against yours and here you are getting more than you dreamed. 
“Benedict,” You sighed blissfully as he kissed you once more, kisses languidly savoring the feel of you as he guided you up onto the bed, the coverlet as luxurious as you surmised. You’ve not come close to feeling something so heavenly as this and Benedict, oh, he was more than you ever dreamed. The novels you’d read didn’t hold a flame to each sensation buzzing through your body, the magnetizing gaze of his upon yours, already undressing you with his eyes. You wanted to take your time, alas it was getting harder to resist. Benedict was one thing if not impossible, but he was yours, irrevocably so.
A fire in the fireplace crackled to life, startling you for a moment, while Benedict caressed your jaw, memorizing every inch, and you selfishly wonder if he'll draw your portrait one day, trying to capture the first moment he had you to himself in his chambers. He moves his exploration from your jaw to your shoulder, then your hands, leaving kisses where he can, murmuring sweet nothings, soft praises that have your knees weak and you wanting him all the more.
“Your hands are lovely, nothing can compare to me holding them,” he whispered, caressing them softly, continuing to place kisses of adoration along them while you gazed at his soft loving eyes. “I cannot capture their beauty, their essence onto the page. I’ve tried and failed for months.” 
You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’ve done a fine job, Benedict. Your art is beautiful, never lose that passion inside you, it’s ethereal strong, spellbinding, and magnetic.” 
“As are you. You’re everywhere in my waking hour, in my dreams and sleepless nights. You’re my muse. You inspire me.” His voice wavered, a tear sliding down his cheek. Every bit of him belonged to you, there was no question, no doubt about it. 
Without another word, you tug on his vest, a beautiful shade of the signature Bridgerton blue, his shirt embellished with small bees. Everything looked wonderful when it was on him, but you wanted more, to lose yourself to him countless times throughout the night. 
“You’re pretty much the only reason I get out of bed most mornings,” You swallowed as he turned to face you, his hands cupping your face. 
“My love, oh my love,” he kisses you softly, in equal parts awe and reverence intertwined, making you forget where you are, the time and place. It’s you and him safe in each other’s embrace. His kisses trailed from your hands up to your neck, nipping softly, eliciting soft groans from you and you returned them in kind, his fingers stroking along your back, pulling you closer in his embrace. 
You brushed away another tear from his cheek, one falling from your eye as well and he wiped it away, kissing you gently before wrapping around behind you, desperation, adoration, awe, and passion guiding him. His lips connected with your neck, and you sighed in satisfaction, his hands wandering down your torso, lighting you up on the inside and you groan leaning back into him, leaving your mind to wander while you savored his touches. 
“Good, you’re not thinking, that’s right. Much better see?” His hand wandered lower, down stroking you just so, warmth blooming through your body. He relished your moans, biting into your neck as he watched the effect he has on you, wishing he could have done this to you earlier all the wasted time you have to make up for now. 
You urged him on through desperate kisses as you pull clothes from your bodies, every inch of him visible to you, eagerness and passion alike driving you both. 
“Keep going, please.” The last of your clothing fell to the floor and he pulled you back onto the bed while assuring him you have all the time in the world. “I want you, Benedict, always have, always will.”
He needed nothing more but your constant assurance, his fingers dipping into you, gliding along your body making you fall into his ministrations, your breathing ragged as you fell into bliss, his fingers replaced with his tongue sending you soaring into another place another time and it felt so irrevocably right, your fingers digging into his mass of curls encouraging him along, more than eager to assist your release. And when you were spent, his lips met yours hunger and desire battling, intertwined as you tasted yourself on his lips. You wanted more, you wanted all of him, however, in the midst of it all you found yourself asking a question as you kissed him once more, this time slower, unrushed. 
"What did your mother say to have you flustered as you are?" You batted your eyes, casting an impish smile, a look you know he couldn't resist. He hummed, his free hand stroking your side, his voice low in your ear. "My dearest mother told me to treat you well and that we best enjoy ourselves a little bit before our union. Told us to enjoy ourselves."
“Her intuition is uncanny, I never want to be on her bad side.” You huffed as Benedict groaned, pulling you in for yet another kiss, trailing down your body, making you squirm, not listening in the slightest, for he was far too distracted, focused on you before him. He would never tire of the sight, thanking his lucky stars. 
Finally, after years of yearning and pining when you’re joined, it’s a bliss, unlike anything you’ve known. You stifled a moan at the feeling, Benedict brushing a stray hair from your eyes, trapping you against him. “Love, I want to hear you, alright? Can you do that for me?” Your eyes widened at the request but when he moves against you, pleasure filling every fiber of your body you cry his name to the heavens.
Oh, how he loved it the soft whimpers, you begging for more and your name sounding just as sweet and sinful falling from his parted lips, swollen from your nipping and kissing. You want the moment to last for oblivion yet when you both lose yourself to your bliss, delirium hits and you pulled him closer in your arms, his face resting in the crook of your neck, the bed and sheets in disarray. You smirked to yourself more than pleased with the outcome. 
He continued to kiss your neck, nuzzling more, your hands stroking his curls. “I love you, Benedict.” 
“I love you more, my love.”
“I’ll love you forever.” 
“How about eternity?” He intertwines your hand with his own, kissing your ring finger. “Will you marry me?” 
 Your heart thrummed erratically but warmed at his loving gaze full of joy, hope, and wonder. It was a face you wanted to wake up with a kiss and love for all your days. 
“Yes, Benedict, a thousand times yes.” 
The smile that shot across his face kickstarted your heart and he kissed you for the thousandth time of the evening, not that you were complaining. For you have an eternity to kiss, love, and be loved by him. You settled against his chest, his embrace warm and reassuring, his hands settling on your belly soft and warm, while you drift off to sleep of bliss thinking only of Benedict and what the future holds.
******
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islayhawkin · 3 months
Text
Sleep
Ominis gaunt x reader
Based on my headcanon: At home ominis had to sleep on the floor as a punishment so he still feels safest sleeping on the floor.
Hurt/comfort
A/N: maybe part 2 is coming. Requests are in the making but struggeling rn so please have patience.
Art by @SHIMAUMAko_BH
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You had witnessed ominis sleeping in unusual places on multiple occasions. There even were some rumours from younger students that 'the gaunt boy is a vampire'.
Though you were always quick to shut them up if you came to hear one of the remarks, sometimes you wondered what he did at night to be so tired during the day. Or rather- you worried. Sometimes you found him crouch his long limps into a armchair in the common room and you always picked up a blanket to drape over him. A lot of the times he was sleeping in the back of the class or fell asleep on top of a library table while you were studying.
You kind of whished you could carry him to bed at those moments. And if it was night and no one was around you did levioso him at least onto a more comfortable place.
Ominis relished the feeling of a blanket over him every time he woke up. The thought that you tucked him into a blanket while he slept made him feel safe when he woke up. It was wonderful that you cared for him in such small actions. He never experienced it throughout his childhood.
It's not as if his mother would look out that he was comfortable.
You were just finished with your classes and walked into the undercroft when you noticed Ominis on the side of the room. You stopped short a bit startled at the sight. From what you saw ominis was sleeping. Or he wasn't feeling well at all.
You quickly made your way over to him and dropped to your knees in front of the rolled in ominis. After seeing him breath with a relaxed expression on his face you sighed in relief. He always looked oddly vulnerable when he slept. His hair slightly more unruly , his eyebrows not creased together, his lips slightly open.
"Ominis..." you whispered softly and caressed his cheek gently.
His eyelids fluttered open slowly and his unseeing eyes darted from left to right to see something he'd never be able to register. Even though he lived with the blindness his whole life it was still a natural habit of his body he always did, especially when he hadn't had the situation under control or he didn't know what was going on.
"Hey it's me. No worries." You stroked your hand over his head before pulling away as he sat up.
"Hi. What are you doing here?" He muttered, still a bit out of it.
"What am I  doing here? You were sleeping on the floor. I thought you were hurt." You smiled amused.
"Oh right. Apologies. It seems I've fallen asleep." He swiftly stood up and you followed.
Ominis combed a hand through his hair to check if it was still decent. "Let me do that." You chuckled as you rearranged his hair to look like it normally did.
"How can you accidently fall asleep on the floor?" He muttered a thanks but stayed silent otherwise. You raised your eyes to his. Your brows raised questioningly.
"I was...tired." he said quietly after the moment of silence. There was that frown on his face again. You knew there was more to that but you didn't want to press him.
"Okay." You scanned his face as the flickering light of the fire in the room illuminted the side of his face.
"I was just about to take a restful afternoon. You can gladly join if you're not too busy sleeping."
He smiled softly and joined you on the couch. You packed your book out and made yourself comfy next to him. Ominis relaxed on the couch too and let himself fall against the armrest.
He heard your pages turning. "Can you read aloud?" He asked.
You grinned. "Of course. I'm in the middle of the book though."
"Mhm. Doesn't matter." He let his head fall back and closed his eyes. He just wanted to hear your voice.
You read aloud for him and sometimes made different voices with different characters. Ominis loved these moments. Listening to you and not having to worry about anything. Relishing the warmth and familiarity of it. He thought that this was probably what most people felt at home.                                
***
You had a sleepover at the boys dorm that day. Actually it wasn't planned. But you had a lot of last minute work to do with sebastian (ominis had finished already but enjoyed laughing at his friends frustration) so it got late and you decided to stay.
Gladly the two boys were the only ones in their dorm at the moment so that you could easily take on of the beds.
You stirred awake in the middle of the night, the only sound in the room was Sebastian snoring quite loudly. Your gaze wandered to the bed beside you where Ominis should slumber too but you didn't see his silhouette in the moonlight.
You sat groggily up and searched the room for the blond slytherin. A frown made it's way on your face as you didn't see him anywhere else in the room either. You quietly got up with the intention to go to the common room in search for him but were stopped short when you almost stumbled over the ground.
Ominis figure lay cowered on the floor in front of his bed. His form trembled a bit on the cold ground and if you weren't mistaken small whimpers left his mouth, which made him almost look like a hurt puppy.
You presumed he had been sleepwalking though you never heard Sebastian complain. On the other hand Sebastian was still sleeping soundly in his bed.
You kneeled slowly down in front of him and gently touched his shoulder. A flinch went through his body and he cowered even more into a fetal position. You quickly took your hand back.
"Ominis..." you whispered.
His eyes flew open. He tried to feel on the ground where he was but didn't dare move with his body. His eyes darted nervously from left to right.
"Ominis." You gently lay a hand on his messy hair. His whole body tensed up and he curled in on himself. His hands shot up to cling to his head as if to protect it.
"I apologize. Please. I will behave better." He mutters with a strained voice.
You frowned deeply. "Ominis. It's me. I don't understand- you don't have to apologize."
His limps loosened slightly. "Y/N?"
"Yes. Yes it's me. I'm here." Your hand twitched to touch him but you didn't dare after his last reactions.
He slowly uncurled himself out of his position and sat up slowly. His hands searched his surroundings.
"Are you hurt? Wh-what are you doing here? Did they hurt you?" He asked slightly panicked.
"I'm not hurt. I'm perfectly alright. I was just sleeping in the bed next to you."
"You need to go. She'll come back. There is a window somewhere." He quickly stumbled up in search of the window but you pulled him back before he could bump into Sebastians bed.
"Ominis what are you doing? What's wrong with you?" You whisper softly. Your hand still holding onto his arm. It was now in the moonlight that you could see tears brimming in Ominis' eyes.
"She'll come back. They're going to hurt you. They're going to make me hurt you. I'm sure of it. You need to go immediately."
You firmly took his hand in yours. "Ominis. Listen to me. Nobody is going to come. We're safe here. You probably had a bad dream."
He shook his head and went through his hair. He stilled at the feeling of his messy hair hanging down into his face.
"It's not supposed to be messy...I need to get it straight..." he muttered hectically as he desperately tried to pull his hair back into it's usual slicked back position.
"Stop it." You grapped his hand and held both of them in yours.
"Ominis you are at hogwarts. In your dorm. Sebastian is still snoring in his sleep as always. Your wand is laying on your bedside table. Your hair can look messy. You were sleeping."
He blinked confused. "I am at hogwarts?" He asked meakly. You guide his hand to his familiar bedpost.
"Yes love. See, that's your bed. What is going on? Did you have a bad dream? You were sleeping on the floor."
He relaxed at the feeling of the familiar surroundings. "Is Sebastian alright?" Even if he knew he was at hogwarts now he still couldn't shake the feeling of fear.
"He definitely is. Listen." It was silent for a moment before a small snore came from Sebastian.
Ominis sighed out in relief and swallowed. "I- I'm sorry. I just had a bad dream I suppose."
"Did you think you were at the gaunt mansion?" you whispered.
He lowered his head. "Yes."
"Oh ominis." You guided him to sit onto his bed with him.
He was quiet for a moment but you could see his mind reeling. You on the other hand thought back to last time were you caught him sleeping on the floor in the undercroft.
"Why were you sleeping on the floor?" You asked quietly.
He turned his head slightly away from you.
"I- I don't see how that's any of your business..." he snapped but the guilt was immediately visible on his face.
You recoiled slightly from his tone. You knew not to take it personal, it was ominis way of defending himself, but it still didn't feel nice.
"If you don't want to tell me it's alright. I don't want to push you. I just...worry you know." you muttered.
He sighed and pinched his nose in frustration. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"You don't want to tell me?"
"You'd think me pathetic." Ominis frowned.
"I won't. Never. You know that."
He did know that. He still didn't want to tell you because he felt pathetic.
"At home, they- they'd use it as a punishment. To let me sleep on the floor. The ground was always cold stone. But when I slept on the floor it was safer for me. The possibility that they'd do something was less. So I did it out of free will often. The cold floor meant safety. I seem to have held that habit."
It took you a moment to register those horrible images in your mind.
"Merlin, ominis that's terrible. Does Seb know?"
"Mhm yeah most of it."
"No wonder he's always dragging you with him to feldcroft." You muttered and looked up at the side of Ominis again. The moles on his face now evident to your view.
"May I hug you?"
Ominis stiffned a bit but gave a nod. It wasn't as if you hadn't hugged him before but you knew he was sensitive with touch so especially in such situations you at least allerted him to your actions.
You gently placed your arms around him and rested your head against his shoulder. You squeezed him slightly against you and though he sat stiff at first, he relaxed into the touch after some time.
"There no need for you to be afraid anymore. You're safe now. You'll never have to go back there ever again. I'll make sure of that." You rubbed your hand against his waist. He felt even skinnier when you held him so closely. Ominis smiled sadly.
"Thank you. But you can't know that. You wouldn't stand a chance against them. And I wouldn't want you to...I'm still grateful that you're here though."
"I cannot make promises. But I will do everything in my power to prevent it. And I know I'm not even pureblooded but believe me if your safety is at stake I can make things happen." You gave him a playful nudge to lighten the mood.
"Thank you." His head was tilted to you. It was his way of showing that he was listening while his eyes stared at a spot to the right of you.
You both sat like that for a moment, leaning against eachother. Your arms around his waist holding him close. With every breath he took your arms moved a bit too.
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep again?" You whispered.
"Yes..." his quiet voice was barely audible.
"Okay. If you need anything I'm right next to you. And Sebastian is on the other side of you." You gave his cheek a kiss and left him alone on his bed as you snuck under your own covers again.
He sat there for a moment and listened to your shuffles but got in his own bed when silence settled over the room. You watched his silhouette before closing your eyes and falling into sleep again.
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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months
Text
There’s a Certain Slant of Light.
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Yan (Soulmate) Chrollo x F Reader.
Synopsis: Something is different. But what could it be?
Warnings: Yandere themes, the reader is unwillingly a Spider and from Meteor City, mentions of religion/religious imagery, implied drugging, manipulation, and unhealthy relationships.
Word Count: 1k.
i’ve been seeing a lot of chrollo being paired with a phantom troupe member reader and i just think that the concept is very interesting! :D
credits for og art piece here!
*~*~*~*
Your sword, while having the ability to stab and slice just about anything, is still by far the most frail weapon at your disposal. It is a slight sadness that fills Chrollo’s mind, then, once he realizes this. The feeling is small, minuscule, just like most of the other emotions Chrollo’s heart cannot beat with, the blood that flows through his veins frozen with the concept of what he wants to be. He feels next to nothing as if he were a walking corpse, a prisoner who has just been released from the deepest depths of hell, not once being able to see twinkling eyes and shining stars. Light is a concept unknown to people like him, and people like you, foreign, as alien as a coup made of peasants storming a palace larger than ten of their villages combined. 
Your two true weapons are your lips calling out his name, and the thin red string that connects your little finger and your fate to his thumb and his future. Despite the thread being wispier than that of paper, it has a will stronger than one forged in diamonds and never had to be a carbon crystal to be so. Chrollo is thankful for it, more so than he is for most things that he would rather leave in the past. It has linked you two together for so long and has been the key for chaining down your animosity towards him whenever he had gone too far. All he had to do was tug, and you would be right back wherever he had placed you. But even diamonds can shatter when a love made in a less-than-fortunate childhood turns more and more into hate.
This entire act is like a balancing beam. He must not be too loud, but also not be too quiet. He must always have cards up his sleeve for any potential mishaps down the line. Inside one hand is the key to your freedom, but inside the other is the key to a false route to such fantasies, the trap of reality. Even Chrollo does not know which is which, for he is a dreamer himself at heart.
“Good morning, sir,” It is a rare sight, you yawning, your posture nowhere near how put together it usually is. “How are you today, sir?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“I must have been quite exhausted last night; my apologies, sir.”
“I told you if you ever wanted to take a break here, you are more than welcome to.”
“I’ve always declined such an offer for a reason, sir.”
“Just as I’ve always told you that you may call me just Chrollo for a reason, [First]. I think I haven't heard you say my name without an honorific since we were both still children if my memory serves correctly.”
“...”
The provocation of the past seems to hurt you more than him it seems, from how you flinch at the word children, and from how he smiles at your discomfort. 
“We are not with the rest of the Troupe right now, it is quite alright if you want to relive prior times, wouldn’t you say?” He asks, and with his eyes appearing to look back at his books, he sees yours darting around the room, looking for an escape route.
They move left, to the tables at the back of the sitting room which hold lamps and framed photos and paintings. Then right, to the fireplace and the large but still solitary couch, covered with leather and embroideries. Then up, to the crackless and spotless white ceiling, and then down, to the wooden rosewood planks of the floor.
“I saw a book in your satchel. Crime and Punishment, hmm?”
“Yes. Please do not say how ironic it is, sir.”
“Very well.”
To you, perhaps the room feels deathly still. To him, it feels like the scene right before the climax. Slow, steady, full of tension and dread. Though Chrollo will never let the curtains that cover your very soul close ever again. It would not be hard to get them to open up again, you have known each other for so long after all, but regardless he needs you to stay within the palm of his hand forevermore. Only then will he be able to feel something so warm and soft once more.
Oh, how he wishes that he could open the floor below you and trap you there. But he cannot. At least not yet.
“...Where is my bag?” At your question, Chrollo pulls his thumb towards him, and you move accordingly. “It is not in the room.” You continue, your eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to resist. “Sir?”
Desperation. Then a hand raise and a pause.
“Stolen treasure from the last meeting.” Chrollo begins curtly. “A contact list full of people I have not permitted you to speak to. Keys to a car that is not mine.” He proceeds to say. “Tell me, [First], what is all of this, hmm?”
Something akin to a mix of a horrified chuckle and a choking sound emerges from your throat as if his hands were squeezing and squeezing until you burst. He sets the book he was reading down, and without his hands covering both the front and back of it, you see the title, the synopsis.
“Crime and Punishment, hmm?” He repeats, and for the first time in what must be a few years, he sees you terrified, shaking, and near to tears. “A clever way to code your plan.” Chrollo crosses his legs. “By the way, it is an hour or so past sunset by now.” He hears a small gasp from you. “You missed your flight a long time ago, sweet thing.”
“...I… I…”
“You were planning on leaving us, weren’t you?” When you don’t answer, instead looking straight towards the door, he raises his thumb again. “I know you never wanted to join the Troupe, per se, but still… this hurts.” He pulls and pulls, and being forced to be a puppet for the umpteenth time since the soulmate string has appeared in Chrollo’s vision, you are placed where he wants you to be. 
Close to him.
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cedarxwing · 14 days
Text
The ending of Hannibal the novel explained
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(aka the breastfeeding scene)
Here's the passage (end of Chapter 101):
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I thought everyone was kidding about the breastfeeding kink jokes until my partner read Hannibal and the whole ending flew over their head. Their main takeaway was "that was weird." When I checked reddit, it seemed everyone was confused there too. I was gobsmacked to see one guy say that Thomas Harris was playing some cruel joke on the reader by writing an ending that didn't make sense!
How many people are reading Hannibal like this, completely missing the resolution to Hannibal's character arc? They must finish the book confused about what it was all about in the first place. So here's how I understand it!
First, I need to get this out of the way: a lot of people hate this scene, and from what I understand it's because they're weirded out by the "breastfeeding kink." Which is fine, but it makes me want to gently hold them by the hand and tell them that it's ok for someone to suck on a nipple. It happens all the time. Sometimes it just feels good, sometimes it's part of a breastfeeding fantasy, and sometimes it's literal breastfeeding. Between consenting adults, this is all fine and normal. Let's all move past this knee-jerk repulsion (or alternatively, sit in our discomfort and expand our horizons) so we can analyze this piece of art together. :)
Next, authors LOVE Freudian psychoanalysis. Even though it's all nonsense, it's full of literary allusion and makes for compelling narratives and character studies (childhood maladjustment, repressed memories, etc), which is basically catnip for a writer. Thomas Harris was no exception, and probably creamed himself (as I did) when he learned that Freud's oral-sadistic stage was also termed the "cannibalistic stage," referring to the time when an infant is growing teeth and begins to bite at the breast--the psychosexual urge to devour and destroy the thing you love. What could be more appropriate for Hannibal?
Next, consider the pattern of Hannibal's Il Mostro murders. He killed young couples in one of the most romantic cities in the world, then arranged them as Chloris and Zephyr from Botticelli's Primavera, exposing Chloris's left breast just like in the painting. In classical art, an exposed breast is often a symbol of fertility. Chloris is associated with spring, new growth, and transformation.
Perhaps, at the time, Hannibal rationalized these murders as retribution for rude behavior. Maybe the couples were performing disgusting PDA. Maybe they were obnoxious tourists on their honeymoons. Either way, it's clear to the reader that Hannibal has some deep-seated hang up about sex and romance.
The particulars of this hang up are open to interpretation, but based on Hannibal's obsession with the rape and transformation of Chloris as well as his embarrassment at the paintings of Leda and the Swan in the German's house, I think it's safe to say that Hannibal feels like any relationship he has with a woman who isn't aware of his true (monstrous) identity would involve a degree of violence/lack of consent. He is forever barred from normal romance.
Having given up on sex/romance, Hannibal is unable to consciously recognize his desire for Clarice, so he sublimates it into a more general familial love. He longs for a return to innocence, to return to the time before he ate Mischa and became an unlovable monster (cue the teacup metaphor).
But even familial love seems like too much to hope for, so he sublimates it further into something that seems more attainable: resurrecting the person whom he loved and devoured, and who loved him in turn (Mischa) through Clarice.
So we have the breast as a symbol of sex/fertility (Chloris/Clarice), as an object that is loved and devoured (Mischa), and as a literal source of sustenance that must be given up during infancy (mommy).
Big brain Clarice connects all these dots and, in the very same style of therapy that Hannibal has been using on her, distills Hannibal's psychological problems into a single poetic gesture that completely fixes Hannibal in an instant, proving that she's not only his intellectual equal, but is, in some ways, his superior.
When Clarice asks, "Did you ever feel that you had to relinquish the breast to Mischa? Did you ever feel you were required to give it up for her?", she's ostensibly asking Hannibal if he's stuck in the oral stage of childhood development (which yeah he probably is). On a deeper level, she's asking Hannibal to consider if he's given up on love.
When Clarice exposes her breast in the same fashion as Chloris, says, "You don’t have to give up this one", and suspends the drop of wine from her nipple, she is shifting his perception of her breast from familial devoured sustenance to a sexual object. Basically, "Why do you want me to pretend I'm your sister when we could be banging?" Hannibal is being aged out of his childlike mindset, not regressing into one.
There are other layers of meaning in this act. The hedonism of using thousand dollar wine for food play is a sign of Clarice's character development. The way Hannibal kneels before Clarice is a position of subservience, but could also be interpreted as devouring Clarice in a way that's new to him. It's the most self-actualized thing Hannibal has done since escaping prison (LOL) and marks the end of his hero's journey (as one of the first things we see him do in Hannibal Rising is nurse).
Personally, I don't read this scene as breastfeeding kink. Yeah, Clarice talks about breastfeeding, but that was more a metaphor for other stuff. Considering the direction of Hannibal's character arc, I understand this scene as him briefly licking the wine off before they have sex. But to each their own! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
ANYWAY, yeah, it's unsettling. It's obviously meant to be. But it's beautifully unsettling! Hate it all you want, but this is peak cannibal romance, to me!!
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poppy-purpura · 3 months
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Hello! I’ve been thinking after seeing your art, and I’m just a little curious about something.
Do you ship Five Pebbles and Unparalleled Innocence romantically? I’m asking because it’s actually a concept I’ve been considering for a bit, and some of your iterator art just seems to suggest that kind of relationship between them, at least when I see it! Is that intentional, or am I misinterpreting your art? And if it is intentional, are there any other ideas you have for this pairing?
Hi :) Well, first of all, I have to tell you how I see their relationship. I drew some doodles so that it would not be so boring to read the text from the Google translator :)
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I have been interested in Innocence for a long time and have always maintained her stalker trait. It seemed funny to me to think that there was an iterator next to the Pebbles who just liked stalking him, so she noticed his problems first, but did not tell the others about it. For one reason or another. I've always seen her as a frivolous girl who just has a hobby of getting into the insides of iterators and admiring them.
Of course, he wasn't thrilled, but, you know… I always took it that FP was just someone who just accepted it, because despite this strangeness, Innocence is an iterator that was also created for entertainment, and therefore it was interesting to communicate with her. She is that childhood friend who is obsessed with the main character, but, unfortunately, she will not be his chosen one... Who knows. Then she becomes a pop star, and he works in the office. Strange friendship.
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He was supposed to be her mentor so that she would turn to him for help (and not to the eternally tired Moon).
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In general, I developed the idea that Luna was in a rather difficult situation due to work workload, and Pebble had to help her, so he could ignore UI at the most inopportune moment.
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I think it upset her a lot, because she really didn't know how to react to some of the antics of the residents.
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But because of her personality and the "Smile and Entertain" setting, she had to deal with it. But I think that made the obsession worse.
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However, this led to the fact that she was stalkering FP quite a lot and this is how she learned about his rot.
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Thanks to her, the rest of the iterators found out about it. Even if she wanted to keep him just for herself, she still wanted to help him. In addition, she was asked to find out about the state of FP.
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In my story, Pebble stopped communicating with everyone, but not with Innocence, because she was quite persistent and he eventually gave up, besides it helped him not to be so lonely.
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Well, it turned out very well for her, because she likes to watch Pebbles, even if he is in the worst situation.
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I usually stick to this story, and it doesn't have to be in a romantic context. But I always saw Pebbles as the kind of character who could date someone just because they were asked, so sometimes I ship them romantically. I think this is funny mostly.
I hope I've satisfied your curiosity. These are my old ideas, and I've never really developed them to make their relationship really work.
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Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.
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He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.
It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.
With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”
He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”
“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”
He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.
“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”
“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”
“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”
‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”
“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”
Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”
They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”
“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”
He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.
“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”
They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”
He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.
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shuchu · 7 months
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im not even a kyo stan but like 😳 imagining the trope where childhood friends get seperated for a while and when they reuinte again, person a is shocked at how much person b has changed and now person a is confused and flustered around person b 🥺
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ different but familiar ₊˚ෆ
character(s): kyo kaneko
note: gn!reader ; fluff ; not proof read!
a/n: oh gosh i haven't written a proper fic in ages... i apologise if this is sloppy ;w; but hey, my first kyo fic o_o despite being a kyomie for a while now lol oops. i actually really enjoyed writing this, it made me feel all soft and warm on the inside hehe. this kinda ended on a cliffhanger, let me know if you guys want a part two!! thank you anon for the idea!! enjoy lovelies ♡
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art credit
you were on your way to the coffee shop nearby to get your coffee before heading to work. you take a deep breath of the crisp autumn air as you walk through a carpet of leaves, hearing them crunch beneath your feet. you swing open the door and hear the little jingle of the bell before the delicious smell of freshly baked pastries mixed with the fragrant scent of coffee wafts towards your nose. a faint smile graces your features as you walk towards the counter to order.
"hi what can i get for you today?" the cheerful cashier asks.
"i'll have an oat milk cappuccino with 2 shots of espresso as well as a croissant please." you respond, giving the cashier a friendly smile.
"will that be all?"
"yep! thank you!"
just as you were about to pull out your card to pay, you see someone reach forward to tap their card on the machine. you turn to your left to see who it was. a guy with light blue hair smiles at you and says, "my treat."
as you walked over to the collection counter with him, you were trying to figure out why this guy looked so familiar. did you know him?
and then it hit you...your eyes widened as you looked at him
"kyo?"
he turned towards you with a soft chuckle, "took you long enough."
"oh my gosh...i haven't seen you in..." your voice falters as you try to recall the number of years
"thirteen years." he says as he looks at you with a small smile
"oh wow...it's been that long huh? how've you been? i hope mr. and mrs. kaneko have been well."
"oh yeah i've been busy, got a job that literally takes up all of my time. my parents are doing good though, thank you for asking about them."
"so...what brings you back to our quaint little town?"
"well...my mom and dad wanted to meet some old friends and catch up with them. i've been working tirelessly for months without a break so i decided..."
kyo's voice drifts off, melting together with the background ambiance of the coffee shop as you stare shamelessly at him, noticing the changes in his appearance since you last saw him.
oh wow, when did he get his ear pierced? his face changed a lot...it's a lot more defined now. also, he shot up so much what the heck?! i was taller than him when we were kids...that's so unfair, why do guys get so much taller after puberty...wait, was he always this handsome...?
"hey...hey y/n...are you done checking me out?" kyo's voice gets clearer again as you snap out of your thoughts. you feel your cheeks heat up after getting caught staring at him and because of the close proximity between the both of you. he leaned in to get your attention and now both of your faces were just a few inches apart.
you avert your gaze to compose yourself and mumble, "i wasn't checking you out..."
he leans back and chuckles, "uh huh...so tell me what i said then." he teases, a smirk evident on his face.
you stay silent because obviously you didn't hear what he said, he chuckles and flicks your forehead gently, "you haven't changed a bit, always spacing out."
you move your hand to rub the spot he flicked with a pout, "quit it, you're still as annoying as you were back then." you giggle after and he laughs too. it felt nice to joke around with him again. your heart swells with happiness, you've missed him — more than you thought you did.
the barista calls out your name and you go to grab your order.
"i'm assuming you're headed off to work now, where do you work by the way?"
"oh it's just 3 blocks down, that massive office building?"
"oh yeah, i know which one you're talking about. what time do you get off work?"
"6pm."
"oh perfect, i'll see you then. we need to have a proper catchup. dinner's on me too." he says with a boyish grin.
"no that's okay, i can-"
"nuh uh uh, no can do. um...i'm sure you have to start walking, it's almost 9am. you don't wanna be late to work do you?" he says as he places his hands on your shoulders and swivels you around to face the direction of your office.
you click your tongue and start walking, turning your head back to respond to him, "we'll see mr kaneko. i'll have my card ready this time."
"byeee! good luck at work! i'll see you at 6!" he calls out as he waves at you
you wave too and turn back around with a sappy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed. well that's something to motivate me to get through work today
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happykinzz · 4 months
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Marble Hornets as Parents Headcanons
welcome to my delusional ramblings
Jay
Is defiantly one of those nervous Dads
He'll turn around and his kid will be on top on the kitchen counter and he'll have to use all the life force in his body to run over there and stop them from falling off
Listens very intently to his baby's rambles and often responds with general feedback
"Gago babwa chuuu" "Yeah that's a pretty weird dog isn't it?"
You know he signed up for one of those "Mommy and Me" classes where the parents and the baby do arts and crafts and stuff together
He's a regular at them and all the Moms there enjoy his and the baby's company
Alex
Is very hands on with his parenting
Diaper need changed? Done. Baby's crying? Bring them over here. You want a cookie? Take two.
Some may think he's not enthusiastic about his kid but thats further from the truth.
He just wants the absolute best for his baby.
Many times he'll over work himself with the baby and someone (usually Jay) will have to step in and try to get him to rest.
He will be like this during the child's baby phase, but as the child grows older he'll loosen up more.
Maybe he'll even crack a few corny Dad jokes ;)
Jessica
Also a very nervous parent.
But a very good one at that!
I think she would take her baby on long car rides just for the heck of it.
Also takes her kid out to a lot of fun stuff like Children's Museums and Aquariums :)
Is big on her kid having imagination and creativity in their life
Will spend a lot of time playing with her kid to encourage this.
Also reads to her kid a lot, they have a little "library" at the house where her kid will "check out" books
Overall a very good Mom who is giving her kid a great childhood :))
Tim
Papa Bear
If you even mildly inconvenience his baby he will at the very least give you the stink eye
Like Jessica, he's big on his kid having a childhood where playing and books are a big thing
When his kid is a newborn, 9 times out of 10 you will find him lying down with his baby sleeping on his chest, will also act like you're interrupting an important meeting as well
"Do you mind?" "You're gonna wake my baby."
Has his kid "help out" with chores when they're a little older ( they picked up little pieces of dust off the floor )
His heart breaks whenever he hears his little baby cry, many times he'll end up crying too
Has a tender voice when his talks to his child
Brian
A very cool Dad
Plays with his kid a lot, and like Alex he will meet his baby's needs in anyway possible
Has a sixth sense when it comes to his child, like he'll know his kid will need something before they even ask
Has one of those baby carriers that go on your chest and uses it all the time
Will crack Dad jokes before his kid can even comprehend the concept of human language
If his kid gives him something he will most defiantly keep it, he ends up having a whole box full of the little trinkets and drawings the kid has given him over the years.
Is super supportive of whatever activity the kid wants to pursue,
Just imagine one of those toddler flag football games where no one knows what the heck they're doing. and you jut hear the most elated man ever cheering from the crowd like it's the NFL
"THAT'S MY KID!!!!" "DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!" "MY KID MADE A GOAL!!!"
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astralm00ns · 3 months
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WXS CYBER AU (my takes on it)
feel free to use these au ideas with credit! (if you decide to please tag me i’d love to see)
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SHIBUYA, TOKYO | CYBER UTOPIA - 20XX. shibuya, tokyo, for the most part, has remained one of the most bustling and important parts of society as a whole. it’s many products, businesses, and overall heavy advancement in technology have made it a staple in the world, especially those looking for business partners. it’s technology has absolutely exceeded many, turning it into a cyber utopia.
though, what hides is the corruption underneath all of this cool tech and beautiful cityscape. crime is a regular, mostly by rogues who want to fight against businesses, who have turned creativity and art into nothing but a huge money making scheme. the higher ups always consider rogues as criminals, as they would prefer siding with the people who would give them money.
rogues for the most part, spread around their creativity without the form of payment, without needing to think of it as a cash grab. also engaging in fights and crime for the sake of defending art over fame. rogues typically act late at night, since ordinary folks are typically distracted by the cityscape and flashy products being shoved right into their faces. while they fight, they do have good intentions. merely wanting to put a stop to cash and fame grabbing scenes, and return to art being a form of expression.
companies released these power hungry robots to combat rogues. selling them in mass, disguising them as “protectors.” it’s gotten to a point where these robots have taken over a huge portion of shibuya, and it’s starting to become a major problem to the cityscape.
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KAMISHIRO RUI
a vigilante who works alone in the shadows, though also once a well known figure in local parts. thanks to his past of showing off the inventions he made.
in his youth, his inventions were ADORED. absolutely loved by people, and that made him happy and all that. he wanted to keep making more such things since it’s something he really likes doing
though as he got older, he noticed people trying to buy his inventions off of him, saying how he’ll make it big and that he won’t ever need to worry about living his life the way he does anymore. and it gets consistent too. like, REALLY consistent these offers, when rui’s just really trying to enjoy making inventions for enjoyment and artistry. he doesn’t ever want to see his inventions as products that can be sold.
it starts infuriating rui since he thinks that these rich companies just want to get his inventions in their hands to make a quick buck, and it gets him really pissy and shit. so he stops showing off his works, keeping it private and only showcasing it to people he trusts. only works he does show off publicly are the ones he uses when it comes to combat, like his drones.
rui wants to find others like him. others who have seen through the minds of these other companies who are supposed to focus on art, not actually doing so and instead using it as a way to go viral and get money. he is a firm believer in using art to express, not to sell. he’s typically either working on inventions or out fighting, though alone most of the time. occasionally going out to combat with nene, a childhood friend of his. also since she’s really the only person he knows now that he still trusts a lot (prior to meeting emukasa)
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TENMA TSUKASA
a well known rogue, at least around other rogues. he keeps himself undercover when not in public, but he goes full out flashy when engaging in combat. tenma tsukasa style and all that idk. he buys his tech, especially his combat ones, from other rogues, mostly to help them out. also to put it to good use. when it comes to being out in the city, he’s mostly hidden. watching over the cityscape overtop buildings and planning, or walking about scramble crossing. he really can’t deny that despite the amount of advertisements being shoved everywhere, all the lights do make up for a beautiful looking area.
tsukasa was often seen doing play battles as a kid, especially with little abandoned robots he had found laying around in parks or other public spots. taking them home to keep playing with them. his little friends that kept him entertained while his sister, saki, was in the hospital. he gave some of these robots to her so she could also have someone with her. tsukasa often prioritized going whenever his parents gave him the opportunity, doing anything with those little robots to make her happy. tsukasa then started going out more as he got older, starting to see rogues doing their thing. he believed it was one of the most amazing things he ever saw, and agreeing fully on their motives. he remembered saki talking to him once about them before, but never would’ve have believed he would see some in action. he wanted to do just that to make saki happy. once he was of age, he became a rogue himself. though forgetting his original motive, wanting to climb ranks, he moved up extremely quickly. now being one of the top rogues out there. both to his amazing ability handling tech and physical combat, his lack of identity in public too.
he met rui while taking down some robots. his ass was getting whooped by some robots, but rui found him, going in and dealing them off. tsukasa thanks rui for the saving and decides to ask him about his inventions, mostly since they caught his eye. something he’s never seen before. after rui explained to tsukasa that he made all of them all on his own, tsukasa was immediately taken back and impressed. he offered rui to join him, in which he was first denied. mostly since rui still had trust issues at that moment. eventually the pair kept running into each other, until finally rui gave in, seeing what this “oh so great tsukasa” truly had potential for. proving to be a great partner in combat.
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KUSANAGI NENE
a not so active rogue, mostly spending her time in arcades. either for fun or for tournaments. though she does manage to get herself to go out whenever rui decides to ask her to. while she doesn’t go out as much as rui at all, she certainly knows her stuff. especially with robo-nene, a robot rui made specifically for her as a friend. also so that way she had someone to play games with. nene over time requested features for robo-nene, and now she often uses her as some sort of side kick when fighting other robots. thanks to robo-nene’s analyzing, it allows nene to act fast and prove to be a very strong opponent, whether it be human or AI she’s fighting.
she typically avoided being flashy and showy, mostly since she didn’t want to bring any attention towards her. mostly for safety reasons. she prefers keeping herself much more secluded, especially since it makes everything easier. it’s been like that since she was little, only exception being when she was with rui. often being shy and not really talking to people. she started fighting after rui introduced her to it, seeing it as a good way to bond with rui again after growing a little distant. often going on little side missions just to keep her busy, though she did eventually find enjoyment out of it. often thinking about it like playing a game. where the objective was to destroy as many robots as possible. she and rui complemented each other really well with each other’s fighting styles, the pair always working well the few times they fought together. though for the most part she fought alone with just robo-nene.
it was through combat where she tsukasa, seeing him do his thing. at first she felt second-hand embarrassment at how extra tsukasa was acting when talking about himself, at least before seeing him whoop ass. she couldn’t help but be impressed, then deciding to occasionally watch him fight. until eventually he noticed her, introducing himself and inviting her to join him. she decides to, occasionally fighting with tsukasa now as well. nene decides it’s best not to tell rui about him yet, just to be safe. besides, rui would eventually catch a guy like him anyways, considering how easy that man would be to spot. she met emu in an arcade tournament. watching her talk to one of the players about plans. then occasionally running into each other in rogue safe spaces. she came to grew an appreciation towards her after seeing her contributions towards rogues, despite not even being one at all.
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OTORI EMU
her family owns OTORECH, one of THE most largest businesses in shibuya. they sell out a whole bunch of devices in mass, ones that supposedly are supposed to make things easier for people. emu, being an otori, knows what goes on behind the scenes. she often overheard her brothers and father discussing their sales, and how they only keep trying to come up with more products to make even more. emu believes the money her family makes could go out to other people rather than blowing it on even more products, but her proposals never end up getting to her family. 
what emu does instead is give insight for rogues. she delivers information about OTORECH and other companies they have partnered with, mostly to allow them to plan ahead of time which areas they need to deal with in terms of savage robots. she never asks for anything in exchange, other than the ability to either watch or help fight said robots. rogues have come to respect her a lot, always looking forward to what she has to bring. in turn she also keeps the rogue’s plans as secrets, that way they won’t be caught. enjoying delaying some of her brother’s plans so rogues could do what they need to do much quicker. she’s very skilled in using weapons way larger than her size, carrying them with ease and also using them to beat down robots. always wanting to go on combat missions solely because of how much she enjoys them. she’s hoping that one day she can be the one running her father’s business, that way she can put a stop to all the unbelievably pricey items her dad and her brothers decided to put out.
tsukasa was the one that introduced emu to rui. nene had already known her for a bit from the few times she encountered her at the arcade or at some vacant places with robots, but it was her first time meeting rui. emu was quick to like rui’s presence, not really hearing much about lone vigilantes, let alone ones with all of their gadgets being self-made. also trying to see behind rui’s serious exterior. she and tsukasa both then decide to take rui out to fight. eventually nene joins as well, the four of them forming their own small coalition with one another. each using their own unique skill sets to take down robots much easier, for the sake of bringing back art in its purest form.
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melonminnie · 1 year
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Hello! I'm back, hehehe well I came to ask you something, would you be willing to write for action manhwas? Sorry is that I am addicted to them, blame daddy sung jinwoo.
Leaving the topic, can I have more yandere platonic but this time from Who made me a princess? I have a scenario, maybe the reader was a girl fed up with her life, so you know, she killed herself and ended up opening her eyes in this manhwa and worst of all, she is a rejected daughter of claude.
So in order to survive, she hides from him, contrary to what Atty would do, she decides she doesn't want his attention. She already suffered a lot in her other life from being ignored and crushed by others, as if her feelings were nothing more than garbage and dog poop. That's why this time he doesn't even try, like have you seen the female leads in almost every manhwa quwrer to live and shit? Well, our dear reader DOES NOT WANT TO LIVE, she is tired and fed up with everything.
But imagine if, by chance, an old diary is found in an abandoned library in the ruby palace (forgot to say, but this is 4 years before the initial story, so my reader is 7 at the time) going back to the diary, she He finds it and it turns out that it is magical. So somehow he travels to the past through this book and without thinking he wanders through the old palace finding Claude crying as a child. Because the reader doesn't give a damn about her life, she begins to establish a friendship because if she was already here, why waste this opportunity? he also hates the adult claude ironically he is his dad.
All that shit from his childhood happens and for 4 years the reader goes back and forth from the past to the future, we reach the point where the adult claude remembers that girl a lot and becomes obsessed with finding her since she was his emotional support. Sorry for all that stuff, now imagine that the plot begins and our reader knows it, that's why she decides to run away taking some money (for some reason she became friends with Felix and he gave her 500 gold coins so she can run away) Like reader hates attention, leaves the palace and lives in a cabin, now we move on to claude still having those dreams with that little girl who was becoming a woman, this was always platonic but he is obsessed with finding her, he promised as a child to return all his care and comfort.
She's the only one who knows him best, but we know the reader doesn't care about anyone and just wants to die in a quiet place.
Annnd, you can develop this better, in the end I would like claude to find out that his daughter has always been his best friend in some way and end up locking her up to prevent her from leaving again. I do not know
And I leave you a gift again, hehehe I edited it for a fanfic that I will never finish or publish
(PS: I traced the lineart of the official art, but the coloring is mine and it is based on that scene, this is already old so it has errors)
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YAN! CLAUDE X DAUGHTER! READER (platonic)
-Hihi I’m glad you’re back!! Unfortunately I doubt I’ll be writing for adventure manhwa at the moment sense I only read romance at the moment but maybe in the future! Reader has the same appearance as athy, fyi your art always amazes me!! Thank you for requesting mwah 🫶🫶
WARNING EXTREME WARNING CONTAINS SUICIDE DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE this is also extremely confusing I tried making it sound normal 🫶🫶🫶
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“Why would she want to die?” Asked one of the dead girls friends, “dunno she had everything yet she became greedy” said the other, standing in front her grave, if the girl was still alive she would’ve choked her, only a pathetic person would be able to make fun of a person in-front their own grave.
Well it’s not like she heard it anyway, and frankly if she did at the moment she wouldn’t care, “I mean she was pathetic with her reincarnation thing and reading fake stuff about it” the friend continued her rant, As she woke up in a non existent body in one of the first novels she’d ever read, but knowing where she was and who’s daughter she was.
To tell the truth, she had reincarnated as the non existent oldest daughter of claude de Alger obelia, the same person who almost drowned his daughter the first he hung around with her, the same person who also killed said daughter in her point of view before she reincarnated, Now she didn’t want the same path, of course she didn’t do the same thing as athanansia did with the rubys, money and gold.
Instead she opted to just hiding away from everyone, it was almost like she was purposely isolating herself, but the maids took it as a joke as she was still a young kid, almost anytime she tired hiding away, one of the maids would find her and then take her back to her room, So she started exploring the entirety of the ruby palace, from up to bottom every bedroom and bathroom.
So of course she soon found the abandoned library, sure it was hard to open the door, but she managed!.
Upon entering said library, it was clear it hadn’t been touched nor used for a very long time, as she took steps her shoes would leave footprints from the dust on the floor, every book she touched had collected dust, While looking around her eyes seemed to wander to a nearly unheard of twinkling sound coming, it sounded sweet almost as if it was luring her in, she searched everywhere to find the source of the sound, which she did!.
It was a old diary frankly she didn’t know it was one till she opened it and read the contents of it, it didnt have a label only twinkling stars surrounding it, of course as a curious 7 year old who can read, she decided to read it.
At first it was boring, the handwriting was messy, as if a child was writing it, it started as writing about what they did throughout the day, it was clear that this diary belonged to someone who had a high noble status.
Soon the soft twinkling noises became cackling noises, it was extremely loud to her ears,but she nonetheless continued, flipping it till she reached a point where the cackling noises sounded so loud that it resembled gun noises, she slowly covered her ears and tried running away from the book.
But she couldn’t, why?, the dust had become fog, just slightly more browner, so with her still covering her ears, coughing sounds erupted from her throat, her eyes becoming watery so she had to close them, she kneeled to the floor continuously coughing as the dust began entering her nose.
Her hands quickly moved from her ears, to her mouth and nose, once everything had settled, and the blonde could finally breathe properly, she slowly opened her eyes, they were met with greenery instead of a dusty library, now this was confusing, as she knew she didn’t walk out of the library.
Because of course she couldn’t, and to her knowledge she didn’t inherit any magical powers, of course it no longer looked like she was in ruby palace, this place was way to extravagant to ruby palace!.
Now she couldn’t go back unless she finds out a way, so she decided to wander around for a bit!.
The blonde haired girl was getting tired, usually she would walk longer, but her legs were giving out, she of course was scared of getting noticed by who ever owns or works here, she’d already worked so hard to not die nor meet any important character, why does she need to die now after being alive for 7 years?.
So she opted to sitting behind a tree hiding her body from everyone, “I’ll just sit here till I gain my strength back!” She thought, she’d lived quietly her entire life, of course this would’ve been easy.
If she wasn’t a noisy person, not even a minute had passed before she started hearing hiccuping noises, it sounded like a boy was crying, whether she wanted to know who was crying or didn’t, it see,ed like her body was punishing her as it started moving by itself to the crying sounds.
There was a boy who was older then her maybe 10?, his appearance matched Claude’s appearance exactly!, but then there was his brother, who looked the same, the girl was standing behind him obviously just starring at him, of course he felt a sudden stare on him, so to his surprise he finds a tiny girl with blue eyes gawking at him.
“What are you staring at?!” He asked slightly embarrassed that someone had caught him crying his eyes out, “Well obviously you your the only person here!” She answered back deciding to sit next to him, “So what where you crying about also what’s your name!” She asked not really caring about what he was crying about, wanting to find out his name only.
“Claude” he mumbled turning his head the other way to whip his tears away, “O-oh” frantically she was quite disappointed, but if this was her hill to die on so be it!, she died once she wouldn’t be scared of facing death again right?, “Well?, aren’t you going to tell me your name” he demanded, “Name..” she answered.
“Then claude, do you want to be my friend?” She extended her hand to his smiling, “W-what do you know who you want to be friends with?” He asked, “yes I do know so do you or do you not?” She asked again, clearly nervous of getting rejected again by the same man who rejected her as a grown adult, being friends with your dad isn’t the best especially when you’ve never personally known him.
“Fine!” He accepted the seven year olds request shaking her hand in confirmation.
“Great” she whispered smiling happily.
“Great..” he said glancing at her hand then eyes.
Of course she found out that by simply it turning night she would return to her original world, the world where the only people who knew of her existence were the maids and lowly knights assigned to the ruby palace, It was good opportunity for the girl cause returning from both worlds affects the timeline greatly, when she’d go to child claude and return at night, It would also become night.
Which meant the maids could leave her alone for days at times, so that’s how the cycle continued, of course every time she returned claude would age up continuously he’d age up a lot in the four years she’d been with him.
In those four years, claude had told her about every aspect of his life, the way his step mother treated him, his brother, family issues, favorite food, Felix, claude slowly realized he’d grown a fond of his friend, he felt like she was a mini version of him, he didn’t notice the way she still looked younger while he looked older, he’d never notice that.
At some point the blonde haired girl knew she needed to stop being around him, it was so that so she doesn’t affect the story line, she’d never want that of course, and so when y/n turned 11, she’d known she’d need to stop, as the storyline was so close to happening, she slowly forced herself to forget she’d ever meet her father as a kid, she knew she needed to stop when he mentioned that his newborn daughter looked like a split image of her.
Now claude would never forget about the friend he made in the garden, how could he?, the way he met her to him was fascinating, he was determined to find her, As the now older man ran a hand threw his hair, he didn’t remember much of you, he remembered how you looked like, he’d know you if he spotted you anywhere, but he just can’t seem to find you anywhere?.
Were you a fairy or an angel?, or were you the ghost of his daughter from another life haunting him as a child.
“Felix!!” The young girl yelled running up to the red haired man, “y/n how are you?” He asked bowing to her, Felix never met you as a child he’d found you behind a tree asleep and took you back when you were eight, ever since he’d been giving you gold to help you escape, as he knew you’d never want to meet your oh so scary dad that you accidentally met when he was a kid.
He just presumed you’d heard rumors about how he killed his own lover afterbirth alongside all his concubines in the palace you’d been at your entire life.
“This time” she breathed heavily as she’d been running, “give me 500 gold please” the blonde begged clasping her hands together mustering the cutest face she could pull off, the red head chuckled softly before handing you 300, “hey! I said 500 not 300”
“Y/n come on what do you need 500 for?”
“Why are you asking please just give it promise you won’t ever see me again” she pleaded with him, “fine don’t let anyone find out though” , he sighed before handing an extra 200.
“Of course I won’t!” The girl replied before running away waving him off with a smile.
“His majesty must never find out..” he mutter returning back to his duties or precisely to Claude’s office.
Y/n kept her promise, she had snuck out in the middle of the night leaving almost everything behind except things she held dearly, and had bought a cabin far away from the capital.
As the years passed by y/n turned 22, it had been a long time sense she’d seen Claude, she’d heard of him of course and her sister athanasia, sense the two had a huge age gap, her younger sister had turned 15 recently, she’d wished she could’ve celebrated with her but she knew if she ever went back there something she’d never want to happen will happen.
Claude had frequent dreams of his childhood friend turning older, claude was forgetting her appearance, it was irritating to him, So the man knew that she wasn’t hiding in the capital she was on the outskirts of it.
He’d heard her say she’d hope to get a cabin on the outskirts of the capital in one of his dreams, Felix knew what was happening to claude wasn’t great he’d tried to stop him multiple times, “are you telling me what I can and can’t do?” Claude asked Felix as the redhead had held his body forbidding him from escaping.
“Your majesty your losing your mind over a nonexistent person” Felix yelled at him, “nonexistent? Felix do you know what the fuck your telling me right now?” The man replied, he cursed him out to no end that night, Felix was getting tired of it, the emperor was going insane over his daughter whom he hadn’t talked nor seen for 22 years, yet now he wanted to talk to her?.
Felix knew where you lived as you made the purchase with his money and he got mail saying he bought a cabin, he threw it out not caring what you did with the money.
Claude was smiling manically the day he knew where you lived, “your highness are you sick?” Felix asked, “No why would you ask that” he replied leaning his head on his hand starring at the paperwork.
Of course, claude knew who you were now, that you were his daughter, that you were the same person who he had met as a desperate kid with no friends.
Claude’s obsession was growing out of proportion, when claude found out where his precious daughter was, he stormed over there an hour later, Felix tried everything possible in his ability to stop him.But he couldn’t.
In those years that you had lived in the cabin your only thought, that was to die, but you couldn’t. You lived in a cabin for no reason, the purpose you couldn’t complete anymore.
While you were asleep, you heard a huge bang at you door, quickly getting up, she opened the door, revealing a tall male with blonde hair and diamond like blue eyes.
Claude starred at his daughter, daggers almost, “I’ve finally found you y/n” he smiled, it was terrifying, how did he find you?, how did he even know who you are, this was absolute hell, the girl tried shutting the door but his grip was stronger then hers, “you can’t run away from now” he said “my daughter” he pushed. The door open and pulled her into a one sided hug.
It was terrifying being held by the same man whom you have been trying to avoid for the past 22 years of your life, he found you like it was nothing, the way he was hugging you was almost bone crushing.
He swiftly knocked you out, knowing the moment he left go of you you’d try to escape.
And he’d never ever let you leave his side ever again, you’ll be forced with the title of the princess whether you like it or not.
Befriending claude de Alger obelia was the worst mistake you’d ever made.
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On a side note my request are always open! I don’t bite 🫶
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From Sarge’s kids I think I’m (as of now) excited to learn more about Daisy. She’s got a lot of Elvis in her and she witnesses Elaine go to hell and back to help him beat his addiction and although she’s independent I hope there’s gonna be someone who will be able to do the same for her or stand by her. Not to mention she’s got a twin who they come off as polar opposites (what with Rosalee being a huge Daddy’s girl) and her comments towards her older sister Ella’s marriage - I get the feeling there’s a lot to unpack there.
I think sometimes Elvis felt like he was too much to love and I see a lot of his personal insecurities in Daisy, she even is a popstar like him and that’s a lot of people loving you with maybe them feeling like they aren’t really known for who they are deep down.
I am so happy to hear this, I’ve got a little started on each kid’s own fic (I want one for each like I had for Jesse, just to establish them and then let loose with the intermingling) and I really think hers is compelling. It’s been truly a blast to get to know her and I’ve gotta be honest she may be the most Lisa-like of any Sarge kid in many ways, partly because she’s so Elvis incarnate. It took awhile but me and my scheming buddies have cooked up a good partner for her and she will always have her family as backup and even her godfather Marlon. I think she will, as you said, be publicly adored but can be rather offputting one on one, even though she desperately needs connection. I think eventually, and not after too long, all these relationships get far better, and Daisy finds her little nook in the family easily. She is the one to go to for the zero bullshit takes or help hiding a body. Loyal and fierce that one.
And here, since you made my day asking about her, have a little random snippet I’ve written about her first big debut recording which came from her rehab scribbles and, unfortunately for the family members her lyrics feature -becomes a sensation.
Era: 1978-9ish??
Warnings: moderate…mentions of past divorce, infidelity, a daughter sorta writing a hit tell all? remincence of a one off threesome and Elvis having straight man panic for it (I’m afraid this couple is polyamorous central I’m the 60’s but nothing explicit) big ole family chat with the grown kids, chaos as can be expected…
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What about Wendy?
“Daisy Mae!” Elvis bellows her full name because the crime warrants it, and from behind him, her voice answers, not in person from her place sprawled on the couch but behind him, coming through the stereo in a clear cadence that his creative side must acknowledge is skilled and evocative. What Elvis doesn't find so praiseworthy is his Dear Daughter hanging the family laundry out for all to see with lyrics like:
—“So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC, You'll throw your rocks, and you'll scream that you hate me, But it gets old being forever 20, And what about my wings? What about Wendy?”—
out on a clothesline for all the world to commentate on his failings and his marriage.
The music video coming out tomorrow on MTV, teased as featuring a fresh faced Daisy in a montage of her mother’s most iconic looks -including that secretive wedding gown so few of the nation ever saw, rather hammers home the not so subtle point. As far as Elvis is concerned this is about as disloyal as it gets.
And he is having none of it.
“It’s art, Daddy.” Daisy murmurs, utterly unphased by the hurricane of wrath she can match once she gets that cup of coffee Rosalee is making her.
“Is this how you see us?” Elvis demands and Jesse winces to the side, things had been going so smoothly after Danny was born but lord, the Presley’s just can’t manage to be calm for long, Daisy had to record that stupid black book she scribbled in during rehab and, my does it have some choice takes on the events of the last decade. “This how you see your childhood?” Elvus goes on, “Where we loved ya like no one’s ever loved any kids and gave ya everythin’ and-“
“-and slammed a buncha doors in between.“ Daisy shrugs, not meaning to be cruel, but it’s the truth and she’s never had her sibling’s affinity for the affection that the rest of the kids take as blood money for the insanity they got put through. Daisy doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for her childhood, in fact, she’s thankful for the writing material. But she’s not gonna be sorry for writing shit as it was.
Which was mama playing a haggard Wendy while Daddy flitted in and out of the window at whim like Peter Pan.
“Girl,” her daddy begs her to understand as he takes his seat next to her on the sofa, big ringed hand familiar and pleading on her bony knee, as if somehow this appeal of his will lock the song back into her diary and out of the radio -or maybe he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, he’s gotten lax about that after the divorce, maybe he really is seeking after his child’s good opinion this time when he continues, “I’m all for art’n’shit but have I not taught ya nothin’ bout-“
“Daddy, ya didn’t even write your own songs.” Daisy gently tries to get him to see the difference in their art but Jesse gasps out in horror:
“Daisy!!” like she just shot their father instead of stating the truth. Which is kinda her problem with her family, they can’t take straight facts.
“Alright, alright then,” Elvis simmers a bit but his tone is restrained as he presses his point, “so ya write from the heart and ya wrote about life, I get ya. So then why’d you call mama Wendy when, w-w-when she’s -she’s my Tinkerbell?”
“You’d rather I used your pet little name in public?” Daisy scoffs at his muddled logic and feels bad for the first time after -soon as his brow furrows in genuine hurt. Daddy loves mama, he loves her again like a new man and Daisy doesn’t get how that works but it’s the truth and she’s got no fight to pick with the truth. It makes her admit with a shrug, “I used it ‘cause Marlon always says she’s Wendy.”
You could hear a pin drop the way everyone’s chatter in the living room stops, even the coffee maker stops spluttering in the distance and it’s highly likely Jesse isn’t even breathing as everyone’s head’s swivel, Daddy’s slower but more intent than any, to look at Elaine where’s she sits in the white arm chair, blanket cast over her where Danny fell asleep while nursing. She’s as white as the rocker she sits in.
“Oh does he now?” Elvis rumbles and Daisy feels the unintentional bite of his nails on her knee.
“Well yeah, he does and -always has.” Daisy insists as if the past and present existence of Brando’s opinions on Elvis’ wife makes shit any better, Daisy knows it the second she lets it out that it’s not exactly balm on the scab.
Her voice doesn't make anyone look away from mama and her perfect, frozen face, carefully neutral and soothingly disinterested in the topic.
“That man has only ever called me, Elaine.” mama laughs an airy, dismissive little thing and the bite of Daddy’s rings on Daisy’s knee loosens their grip. “And if he thinks i'm a Wendy -he should say it to my face.” she jokes and Jesse predictably lets out a pained laugh of solidarity.
“-A-a-and w-who the hell did ya get to sew all those recreated outfits, girl?” Daddy is suddenly back on the original topic with a burst of renewed incredulity at her gall and Daisy knows she can use this to her advantage, get him arguing about fashion, tailors and supporting local folks instead of berating her for her lyrics and-
-Ella watches as Elaine’s stiff face smoothes into relief and she lays her head back against the rocker’s cushion and closes her eyes against the hubbub that’s no longer pertinent to her. Not for the first time Ella wonders if mama is as burdened as she is with thoughts and feelings married women shouldn’t have, they really shouldn’t. Marriage should cure a woman of them but Ella had them all alone on the ranch with her husband gone and Mama had Marlon and his lingering looks and her frozen face whenever his name gets mentioned and mama who is staring up at the ceiling like she’s no longer in the room with them at all.
“Peter Pan, Peter Pan, little lost boy actin’ like a big man,” only Marlon could have made that rhyme sound like anything but a goad, only Marlon really saw what Elaine saw when Elvis was sated, pliable, sweet as a newborn and pretty a sin. “Those producers who’ve got him playin’ tough n’ shit don’t know his appeal, they just don’t get it. Goddamn Peter Pan.”
And he had run his fingers over Elvis’ face, catching his drooping eyelids and pulling them down and over his nose to those cherub lips. And Elvis’ eyes hadn’t opened again till next morning when he woke in angry panic.
Elaine stares at the ceiling and feels Danny shift against her breast, snuggling closer, and she wonders if Elvis ever recalls that night like she does. Ever replays it a million times.
Wendy, Wendy Wendy.
Marlon thinks she’s Wendy, Marlon’s told her own daughter that. But never her. No. He’d just raked his hand through the wrecked coiff of Elvis’ gelled hair and admiringly called him Peter Pan. And Elvis, being Elvis in the state of freshly loved and freshly praised, never balked at it before drifting to sleep in their muggy tent.
Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, he never called Elaine that to her face.
Elaine catches Daisy’s eye next time she looks away from the ceiling, an odd moment of recognition. Funny how each child knows a part of her, but it’s the inner workings of Daisy’s curious, generous, honest self -a heart so very like Elvis’ own- that can look back at Elaine and smile at her, while knowing her fully, faults and all. It’s not so bad having grown daughters as a friend, Elaine decides as she watches Elvis flail backwards against the couch to laugh at his daughter's good natured dig at his unmodified wardrobe.
It’s good not to be his only Wendy keeping him young anymore.
Song based on: Wendy by Maisie Peters
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