#and THAT is karma for the way they were treated growing up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lonelystarrs · 3 months

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𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮’𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 prt 1.

Barou Shouei x FemReader (slight x Nagi Seishiro in prt 2)

it all started because he bullied your brother, it all started when 12 year old you kicked a ball into his face. Growing up with your eventual sweetheart wasn’t all smooth sailing, life was full of lessons but through the rough and smooth one thing Barou always knew; you were always his girl. Sometimes though even a king needed to lose his throne to realise his true royalties were what built it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI + virginity loss (both 18+) + angst with eventual comfort + fluff + long fic / Tugs & Texts expansion + established relationship with Barou + smut +

Word count 11.4k

Barou was always king of the field since he started at 6 years old and discovered how good it felt to win, how natural he was at this sport and it was his domain; it was where he belonged.

This discovery meant Barou dominated the field wherever he went, crushing anyone who crossed his path for the next six years.

Until one day he happened to crush the wrong person.

He’d kicked the ball hard towards the goal aiming for it to be a score but some brave kid decided to block the strike.

He walked over, looming over the boy as he curled into himself holding his face, blood and snot gushing from his as is skin burned bright red. Barou’s hands shoved into his pockets as he half leaned over him.

“Tsk, what a donkey thinking you’d block that, learnt your lesson?”

12 year old Barou with his new lingo, new insults to throw at people, left the field and thought nothing of it, just another who got in his way and learned to stay out of it; until the next day he met his karma.

“You!”

Barou had been taking part in his strict training routine in the rain, at 12 years old he set his mindset and goals high; creating a routine that he researched and put together through PE, his favourite subject in school.

Red eyes turned to the girly voice that called out angrily in the rain but instead of meeting who was calling him, his face was met with a ball, smacking him clean in the face and actually making him take a few steps back.

“You asshole! Thinking you can treat people like you do, you hit the wrong boy yesterday Shouei! I’m gonna make your life hell!”

He never even seen you coming, a mere voice in the rain and suddenly blood gushed from his nose; his hand clamped over it to stop the bleeding.

Eyes wide he pulled his hand from his face to stare at the fresh blood, even his damn teeth were hurting.

Barou met your eyes for the first time in his life, shocked to the core a freaking girl had kicked the ball that hard.

“who the hell you supposed to be, the babies girlfriend!?”

“That was my brother and he’s only 8 you idiot!”

Barou straightened as he took you in, you looked roughly around his age definitely not as young as the kid yesterday. That fire in your eyes was burning but what Barou was more impressed with was the accuracy and strength of your strike with the ball. You stood in the rain, practically steaming as it hit you because you were so angry.

Then you spun and disappeared leaving 12 year old Barou with sore teeth, bleeding nose and pounding head.

Perhaps even his heart thumping more than it should be.

—0—

You certainly kept your promise; making Barou Shouei’s left hell for the next four years. Although at this point he was convinced it was just habit, no one could hold a grudge for this long surely?

The fact he could see that damn gleam in your eye, those lips twitching in a little smirk when you pushed his buttons, when he squared up to you pressing his forehead to yours and you only pushed back was proof you were enjoying it.

So he tried to not feed it.

He was the better person, walking away or ignoring you. He did best to avoid you, but found him you always did!

The only one really brave enough to bother him, to get in his space was you. Girls were too scared to approach him in person, deflated by love notes left in his locker; he simply threw them away never even opening them. Even the guys stayed away from him unless it was his soccer team.

He became a bit of a loner, seemingly content in his own company or focusing on his football dream. His arrogance and ego grew into something rather ugly, adopting manners of being a king, everyone being a peasant or a donkey.

You’d stood up to Barou from day one, the only reason you survived it was because his patience and morals were incredible; he didn’t believe in hitting girls. Even if you standing up to him wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

However, being sixteen and hormones arriving changed things up.

Where things remained very much the same for you towards him, Barou’s teenage boy mind was starting to mess with his exchanges with you. He’d started to really try to stay away, his gaze noticing things in you he hadn’t before and it disgusted him.

Like how you standing up to him, never backing down and being just as stubborn as he was shifted from annoying to endearing. He argued back less, unable to form insults when eyes dropping down to your shirt that was getting too tight on your chest, your skirt dancing on your thighs, how your waist dipped showing curves.

He was successful for a time, keeping distance from you and avoiding any heads butting. But this week, much to poor Shouei’s dismay, the teacher thought it was a good idea to pair you both together for a project.

even the whole class fell silent, awkwardly looking between each other. No other teacher was brave enough to pair up you both, but this one seemed to twinkle something mischievous in her eyes over it.

Barou had been unusually quiet with you for the last two weeks and he had been avoiding you like the plague.

Why? You had no idea.

You didn’t really care either.

“Get into your pairs and decide what you’re going to do for the arts project.”

Barou’s eyes darkened as you stood from your seat knowing he wouldn’t move towards you, the rest of the class moved and chatter started throughout the room making sure they had distance from you both. The occasional side glances to see if you’d killed each other yet.

You slid into the high stool next to him with a little too much sass, red eyes glancing down at your school skirt riding up, thigh high socks squeezing the tops of your thighs and he groaned, turning away to glare at the wall and fight the heat crawling up his neck.

“So Barou,” you sang, he inhaled deeply arms crossing tighter against his chest that was getting bigger every passing month, it was impressive how the guy had shot up like he had. He was so freaking tall and growing more muscle by the week.

“What’cha wanna do with your favourite subject?”

“Like hell I know. You do it, keep that shit off me.”

He hated arts and crafts because it was so damn messy, he was already glaring at the paper on the table and the different pencils, charcoals and paints lined up to use.

“Awh c’mon!” You grabbed the charcoal pencil and started to press it hard on the paper, gathering a nice little patch of black dust before placing it down and pressed your index finger into it.

Barou actually gritted his teeth at the mess, eyes tearing from the page to look else where whilst you started to draw something with the charcoal.

You were always good at portraits or forms of the anatomy, he’d seen you work with charcoal a lot and despite its mess the end results were always good.

He’d give you that.

“So, I’m surprised you haven’t kicked off being paired with me.”

“You’re good at the subject, you’ll get us a pass. I’m not foolish enough to not take the best in here, means I don’t have to touch this shitty stuff either.”

Your silence and lack of work on the paper made him turn to look at you, only to see you looking at him suspiciously.

“The fuck you starin’ at?!”

“Where’s Barou?”

He scoffed and looked away realising he’d just somewhat complimented you to your face. You laughed and scratched your cheek with your finger forgetting about the charcoal coating the pad.

“I’ll get us passes useless Barou! Don’t you worry!”

You returned your attention back to the paper and Barou’s eyes moved to you when you weren’t looking. Red gaze watching your face, your tongue sticking out a bit as you concentrated with a small smile on your lips. Eyes beaming with joy at you setting your skills on something you enjoyed.

Damn it you’d grown up so much, he wasn’t the only one who’d shot up. You started to lose that baby fat on your cheeks, your hair had got longer and you always smelled so damn good. Your shirts were always ironed and perfectly white, he’d notice the material hugging you more as your breasts had started to grow, the shape of you changing as you both hit 16.

His eyes moved to your face again, noticing a few strands of hair had fallen from your successful attempt of a messy bun to stop it getting in the way whilst drawing.

He then noticed the black smudge on your cheek and he glared at it, his hand twitching already to remove it.

How had you got that on your face so damn quickly!

“Ta-da!!!”

You held the page up, a dust of black cloud flying off causing Barou to shoot from his seat quickly.

“Watch it you slob!”

You looked over your shoulder with a dry expression,

“You’re such a princess Barou,”

“Piss off.”

You blew him a kiss and looked back at you work, your photographic memory paying off as you grinned at it.

“Hmm, just needs a title, how about….” You pondered for a second before lighting up and grabbing a pencil, scribbling down before sliding it to him.

‘The King’s Strike.’

Barou stared at the page, you slid in front of him. The perfect striking pose, shirtless with just shorts, his long socks, shin pads and soccer boots. Muscles drawn perfectly, the twist of the body and shadowed with the charcoal. The ball moving towards the goal, every detail was there.

Then his hair.

It was him. Striking a goal.

“It was you at the game last week,” you said boredly, “-s’yours if you want it.”

“You were there?” He looked at you finally and you shrugged, looking off across the class.

“Since last year,”

“Every game?”

“Uh -yeah. The girls like watching you lot, I find it boring but seeing you prance around like a show pony is midly entertaining.”

Shit why did he suddenly feel so hot? He didn’t even give a shit that you’d insulted him, he was so focused on the fact you’d been watching him and he never knew.

His hands got clammy, his heart accelerating in his chest like it did after he scored at the same time he felt fucking nervous. The bell ringing broke his gaze on the drawing, you jumped down from your stool and turned to leave.

Barou had other ideas, grabbing your wrist before you got too far you spun back and looked at his grip on you to him. Frowning you opened your mouth to say something but Barou dragged you down with him to grab his bag.

“You scrub you can’t just leave like that, you’re gonna get that shit everywhere! You’re fucking filthy!”

Pulling out a pack of cleaning wipes you stared at him like he’d grown three heads, before snorting a laugh, then it went full blown.

“You carry those in your school bag?! Hahahahaha!”

“Shut it you slob.”

Heat crawled up his neck but he battled it down, his hand lifted your wrist to clean your fingers with the wipe. What the hell was he doing?

“It’s even under your fucking nail -ugh this is disgusting.” He was grumbling to himself and you froze staring at him, he was surprisingly gentle actually, you thought he was finished until he grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together causing your lips to perk and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched in your throat as the closeness.

Reaching up with a new wipe to clean the smudge on your cheek.

“I gotta game Saturday,” he grumbled, voice deep and gruff, refusing to look at you longer than a glance. You were worried he could feel your heart thumping in your chest, or how hot your cheeks felt under his fingers.

“You comin?”

You nodded dumbly your eyes taking in his features being this close. Completely forgetting if you even had any plans this weekend, you felt blank at the moment, heat stirring in your chest and you actually rubbed your thighs together.

When did this guy get so damn handsome? His eyes were so… red, his hair looked so soft, he’d grown substantially and he absolutely towered over you now.

“Front row on our teams side,”

His eyes flicking to your mouth before locking with your eyes.

“-got it, girl?”

Barou released your cheeks and grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and leaving the room; you stood dumbfounded at what the hell just happened.

You looked to the table, he’d taken the drawing.

Unknown to you, the old lady art teacher was chuckling in her seat, fingers pressed together and her glasses glinting watching you both.

“I knew it.”

—0—

You’d attended his game, sitting where he told you to and you watched how each game turned him more into an asshole on the field. He was cruel, selfish and egotistical yet you couldn’t stop watching him.

You’d made a mess more often in arts because he couldn’t stop himself from cleaning you up, accidentally spilling things on your hands and making art class extra messy. Even when you weren’t paired together he’d storm across the room when everyone left.

You’d make sure your tie looked off when you seen him and he’d straighten it because it drove him mad. It amused you endlessly, weirdly liking it each time he got closer to you.

It all started from Art classes, graduating closer to you, using the excuse he knew you’d make a mess. It started simple, minor until it progressed into pairing with you for projects. Glowering down at whoever was next to you and getting them to move. They were scared whilst your eyes twinkled in amusement up at him, until he glared at you for staring at him.

Where it began it arts to spread to each class he shared with you, seating next to you or keeping you as a study partner. You didn’t find yourself questioning it, a light tease every now and then which he found himself not biting to.

The day he caught you walking home in the rain without an umbrella he let you stand under his, belittling you the entire walk home for being a dumbass and forgetting it.

Your heart racing when you seen his shoulder wet, hanging out from the umbrella to keep you dry. So you made him a bento as a thank you, he was skeptical at first, looking at it with disgust and you didn’t think he’d eat it, until he handed it back clean and empty the next day.

That one walk turned into him waiting at the gate no matter the weather, he’d listen to you ramble on about absolute bullshit wondering why he tolerated you above everyone else; perhaps your amazing bento boxes he had daily now were the reason.

The morning he caught you running on the weekend during the summer; those shorts riding fair too far up your thighs and ass leaving nothing to the imagination. He couldn’t shift the image of your sweat glistening skin, chest heaving as you sucked air back in, your sports bra pushing everything up and playing on his teenage mind.

He started running with you, leaving his headphones in whilst you had yours in. Every weekend morning he’d be waking you up at stupid times to run and you kept up with him. You’d both stop at a shop to buy a drink on the wall home to cool down.

“My feet are buzzing!”

“Get better trainers then you idiot,”

“I did! They haven’t arrived yet.”

“Then why are you fucking running if they’re hurting?”

You pouted and prodded his bicep,

“-and miss our morning dates, getting all hot, sweaty and out of breath with you? Pft!”

Barou handed you a cold bottle of water, pressing the cold bottle to your forehead whilst gulping down his. You side glanced watching his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow.

His shirt was off, tucked into his waist band of his shorts and sweat dripping down his body. The temperature was already getting unbearable this early in the morning. Ditching his empty bottle he started to walk forwards, glancing over his shoulder at your slower pace and fiddling with the bottle.

“Don’t say a damn word,” He sighed in annoyance and stopped, crouching to his knee he glared over his shoulder. “-up.”

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, wrapping them around his sides and feeling you press your body flush against his back, arms wrapping lazily around his neck and resting your head on top of his.

People started gossiping, started suggesting that Barou had his eyes on you, the mutterings and the rumour of being Barou’s girl started circulating around.

It was all talk, nothing had actually happened between you both but you’d noticed the change in him as much as you had yourself, it was slow but each week over the last year progressed into something. From enemies to practically seeing each other daily, to him eating your bento boxes and being at each game.

Then a day came after you both turned 17 and attended a certain game that changed it all, sat at the front on his teams side like you always had done for the past year since he first told you to.

This time you weren’t alone, some guy was sat next to you and you were polite enough to speak with him when he tried to talk with you. He was funny, polite and kept you company. You laughed with him, probably flirted a little bit because you were a natural flirt, what? It was fun!

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the red eyed king on the field. Anger boiled in Barou each time his focused slipped to you and by the end of his match he was seething despite winning the scores, his usual fans screamed and wailed for him but it did nothing to distract him of that image with you and that guy.

Barou ignored his team cheering, stomping over he removed his jersey from his last game, sweat and muscles grabbing eyes and girls squealed at the view.

Before you knew it a sweaty ass jersey had collided with your head, scrambling to remove it only hearing Barou’s pissed off voice.

“Oi, you fucking donkey get lost, she’s taken.”

Stunned and embarrassed by the show in front of crowds you were left gawking as Barou made his way off the field with his team behind him.

The next day had you stomping up to Barou whilst training, he was warming up by himself as usual taking up his strict daily work out routine.

Jesus even in that baggy hoody he was wearing he looked massive, his back looked huge as you stomped up to him, inwardly feeling your confidence shaken as you drew closer suddenly feeling smaller with each step.

“Oi! King douche!”

Barou grunted and looked over his shoulder at you with a bored expression, eyes giving you a once over before half turning to you; the only one he’d paused his warm up for even if it was only a few moments.

You marched to him, gripping his hoody at the front and pulling him down to your height.

“What the hell was that about yesterday huh?”

Barou glanced down at your hand gripping his hoody before meeting you again, eyes bored he cocked at eyebrow. He could have easily pulled back but he remained half bent to your height.

“Mind telling me who exactly I’m taken by? Cause I seemed to have forgotten that happening.”

“By me,”

You sputtered at his bluntness your grip loosened on him and you leaned back.

“What? You- I- what are you talking about? That’s a two way conversation Barou! You never asked me an-“

“Date me then,”

“Will you stop being so blunt! At least act like you’re actually interested!”

“Date me, I can tolerate you.”

You deadpanned at his lazy bluntness and released your grip on him, stepping back you went to leave.

Barou heard your grumbling about him, his eye twitched at you walking away from him.

“Always so fucking stubborn.” He sighed, his hand grabbing your wrist he spun you back, other hand threading through your hair into a grip and pulling you to him.

His mouth pressed to yours in a movement too smooth for someone as belligerent as Barou to pull off, but he made up for it with how roughly he kissed.

You could taste the mint on his tongue, his lips were so damn soft, he was uncoordinated and rough, teeth biting your bottom lip too hard and his tongue running over it as if it was apologising. Greedy, messy, impatient and rough yet some kind of softness under it all —exactly what you’d expect from him.

His hand at the back of your head kept you from leaving as he pulled back, his lips shining from spit and your lip gloss. He pressed his forehead against you, eyes peering into you as he towered over you.

“Got it, girl?”

“Barou, was that your first kiss?”

The heel of his hand pressed to your forehead replacing his and he pushed you backwards.

“Get lost I have training to do.”

It totally was, you snickered and turned to leave, failing to see Barou’s thumb swipe his bottom lip, tongue following savouring the taste of you and your lip balm. A smirk twitching on his mouth as he looked over his shoulder to see you walking away with a little bounce in your step.

—0—

Baron always thought the act of kissing was pretty disgusting, the germs and how unclean it was to swap spit, eighteen years of that thought it was all thrown out the window when he realise the taste of your lip balm was addicting. That subtle hint of cherry lingered more than your usual strawberry flavoured one and he groaned into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

The little moan that left you made his hips roll up into yours, that bulge in his shorts running painfully tight against you, his hands gripping your hips with the intent to bruise.

You’d come over to his house surprising him in his room when he returned from a shower, the little running shorts you had on were far too short, the loose fitting white sports top and red sports bra underneath left little to the imagination also. The towel thrown over his shoulder, stood in his gym shorts and listening to the giggles of his little sisters signally they were the ones who let you in.

The distance between you lasted seconds after his door slammed shut, he only half turned around to see you’d strode up behind him, throwing your arms around his neck and jumping up knowing he’d catch you.

It hadn’t taken him long to walk to his bed blindly, hands gripping your thighs and you kissing him like you hadn’t seen him only yesterday. He turned, fell to his bed and let you straddle him as he sat up, you’d been kissing since, rolling your hips against his.

“So birthday boy, you’re finally eighteen,”

Barou sneered, rolling his eyes as you lowered your lips to his jaw line, rolling your hips against the bulge in his shorts causing an airy moan to leave him.

“You’re little over a month older, stop acting so superior.”

You laughed against his neck, straightening yourself and leaning back, his hands sliding up to your lower back to aid your angle, you hands linking behind his neck.

“Speaking of which, did you know our star signs are the best match?”

“Don’t start with this shit again, its bullshit-“

You laughed, eyes gleaming and his softened watching your pure amusement above him, skin still glistening with sweat from your run here, lips plump from kissing him so hard.

And his poor heart kicked in his ribs, a sudden burst of emotion swelling up his chest and it spread like heat.

“I was thinking of what to get you for your birthday-“ you wiggled off him, his grip on you a little reluctant to let you go but your hand pressing against his hard cock made his jaw clench, “-you locked the door right?”

Fuck.

It was finally happening huh? It wasn’t often Barou felt himself caught off guard, or any confidence shaken because he was pretty grounded, but his nerves jumped not showing it in his expression and yours didn’t falter either.

You’d both decided to wait until you were eighteen, given you’d turned that age a little over a month ago he didn’t think you’d be so literal in the agreement when he turned it.

When you dropped to your knees between his, hands gliding up to the waist band of his shorts that were doing very little to hide his dick, you tugged and he didn’t move for a second, red eyes looking down at your pouting face, his hair still down from his shower as it draped over his broad shoulders.

His hand cupped your chin locking gazes with you.

“Ain’t no pressure or rush, shouldn’t be doin’ it just cause its my birthday,”

“Your dicks literally flexing under my hand-“

“That ain’t the point!” He seethed, other hand gripping your wrist pulling it from his cock and you pouted at him, actually fucking pouted and he sucked his teeth, his self restrain faltering for a second at your pouty ass face.

“You even know what you’re fucking doin?”

“Kinda, but it gets me off trying it for the first time so, think of it as a joint birthday present!”

You’d watched Barou’s jaw tightened, red eyes sliding off to look at his door in concern knowing his little sisters were running around due to his parents being out, his attention quickly brought back to you when you tugged at his waist band again.

“I put frozen on for them and bought a bag of sweets -we have two hours.”

You heard Barou click his tongue and he stood, tilting his head down to watch as you leaned back onto your ass, knees still on the floor and looked up at him all doe eyed. His black hair falling to the side he tilted and his thumbs ran under the band of his shorts, pulling it down low enough so his little trimmed snail trail appeared before the head of his dick rested over the band.

You groaned and licked your lips, reaching up to skim your fingers along his hips.

“B please,” his jaw clenched, nervous for reasons he didn’t quite understand but he hid it well, his cock flexing at your tongue licking your swollen lips, eyes glazing with something he hadn’t seen before and your whiny little beg.

“Take it easy-“ one of his thumbs pushed his shorts, releasing his cock with a heavy slap to his stomach, a sticky line of pre linking to his dick and your eyes widened, a smug smirk gracing his face and his ego soared at your shocked expression. Confidence taking over his concern at you faltering, his other hand went for your pony tail, twisting it around his hand and pushing your face to the hilt of his cock, “-I ain’t small so don’t get carried away.”

His confidence faltered when yours overtook his in strides, tongue pressing to the gap between his shaft and balls, licking a thick, slow line up to the head of his dick before swirling your tongue around it. Barou watched the pre melt on your tongue, you moaned and he fucking melted.

You laughed when he let out some choked noise at the feel of your tongue swirl around the head of his dick, before kissing the underside of it looking at him like you were in love.

“Taste good B-“ you hummed against it rising a hand to wrap around his dick not even managing to touch your fingers because of his sheer girth, you pumped up and his body jolted forward the hand tightened around your hair, “-can I suck now?”

“F-Fuck,” you took that as your go ahead and wasted no time in wrapping your lips around his cock sinking down enough so you were comfortable at your limit, his dick flexed in your warm mouth and when you moaned around his cock Barou was finished, both hands held either side of your face and you gripped him tighter refusing to budge.

“G-Get off, fuck- Hold on,-“ your name left his mouth in a such a whiny tone you looked up to check this was actually Barou, only smirking around his cock at his expression. Eyes blow and wide, mouth agap and he was damn drooling.

Your eye contact with him, his thick cock in your mouth, hand wrapped around him and that little smirk would stick with Barou until his dying day he was sure of it, he came so quickly he didn’t even have to warn you, your expression changing to shock as thick ropes of cum spilled into your mouth so hard it shot to the back of your throat.

Hips jolting, six pack flexing as he released his first orgasm with you, lasting less than five minutes in your mouth for the first time.

You didn’t stop, spit and cum creating a sloppy mess down your chin, hollowing your cheeks and tongue rubbed against the head of his dick you bobbed on his cock; his voice broke as he tried to growl out your name, hand gripping painfully now on your hair trying to pull you off.

Looking back up at him you almost laughed, his eyes borderline cross eyed, drool now spilling to his chin and his hips bucking with each stroke of your tongue. You were overstimulating him and you knew it, you were clenching around nothing and you could feel yourself soaked through your running shorts. Spit and cum dribbled down your neck into your cleavage, knowing Barou would have a fit about it when he managed to uncross his eyes.

His body recoiled and he sat back on the bed, panting like he’d just finished a soccer match and sweating as much. You rose your hand to wipe your mouth on the back of it, eyes glazed and looking at Barou like he was prey, red eyes drinking in the mess you made but unable to ignore you licking your lips.

“Maybe the film I picked was too long-“

You shouldn’t have doubted Barou’s ability to recover, you shouldn’t have been snarky. He growled and your face faltered for a second, all amusement or taunting left you, blinded with being too cocky and confident with your actions to think that you’d had ever beaten Barou Shouei.

“You’re dead-“

You stood up quickly, a little wobbly from numb knees on Barou’s bedroom carpet and turned to leave, hoping to seek safety in his little sisters downstairs, he was quicker, a thick, strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him with a half screaming leaving you.

“Shut the fuck up-“ his mouth pressed to your ear, his deep warning made bumps rise over your skin, his hand clamped over your mouth stifling your noise and holding you in place whilst the hand around your waist dipped into your shorts. Barou wasted no time in roughly sliding a finger clumsily down your clit right to your hole, your hips jolting forward and your cry was muffled under his hand. “-you’re soaking.”

He growled into your ear, deep voice making you clench around nothing but Barou felt your pussy pulse against the pad of his finger resting at your entrance, he rolled it gathering slick to glide it back to your clit and the pace he set was cruel. You didn’t know if it was lack of experience or because he was trying to be mean, but he was rough with your clit, rolling circles around it with one finger your hips stuttering and legs threatening to give out from under you as you struggled to stand.

You were begging him but his hand blocked any clarity from your words, your hands finding grip on his forearm across your chest trying to pull it from your mouth. It made you realise how strong Barou was, he was solid, unmoving and had you against him with no match on his strength. His finger suddenly dipped down to your hole and pushed in to the knuckle, your eyes widened and you screamed under his palm, his lips pressed to your temple, tears blurred your vision from the over stimulation and the need to cum.

“Not so cocky now are you?” You weren’t expecting him to roll his hips into your lower back, hard cock gliding along your spine above your ass, “You’re cryin’ from a finger, how you gonna take this?”

“Mock me again and I’ll put you in your place, nod if you understand and I’ll let you cum.”

Tears had spilled down your cheeks at this point, weaving between his fingers mixing with your drool under it and guilt hit him, his ego too large to back down resulting in him kissing your cheeks, kissing the tears away and giving you a shhh to try and sooth you. When you finally nodded he sighed and pulled his finger from your pussy, pad rolling back to your clit where he ran soothing circles around it. A relieved sigh left you under his hand, soft moans vibrating against his skin and his only sign before you came was your hips starting to roll desperately.

“Nod if you’re gonna cum,” you did and he hummed against you, picking up his pace, “-cum f’me then.”

Barou groaned against you as your body stuttered against him, your hands gripping his thighs behind you to support yourself and he caught you when you went slack in his arms, pulling his hand from your mouth he hooked it around your waist to hold you up. The other from your pussy he rose it to his mouth cleaning his fingers off.

“Shit, you taste good.”

The slamming on his door made you both jump and his grip on you tightened in response.

“Big brother! Mummy and Daddy are home, so stop smooching your girlfriend!!”

“Fuck-“

“Don’t swear big brother!”

“Get lost brat!”

You heard some kind of grumble under her breath as one of his sisters stomped off back down the stairs, seeing Barou flustered was rare and watching him grab clothes to put on, hard dick bouncing with each stride made you cackle. Earning a glare over his shoulders as he pulled a top on.

“Fuck you find so funny?”

You shrugged and adjusted your shorts before pulling your pony tail back to to tidy up.

“You’re still hard-“

“Yeah? No shit,”

Barou sneered under his breath as he sat on the bed to pull his socks on, dressing to go out on a run to match your attire because apparently that’ll hide the suspicion of both your flustered faces. You walked over and leaned down, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“I like your hair down, never seen it like this before. You’re real handsome you know that?”

He blushed, Barou Shouei fucking blushed, you didn’t mock or tease him on it, your soft eyes looking directly at his and they had a teary glaze over them. He blinked at you in surprise before rolling his eyes and returning back to his socks.

“Know its my birthday but stop with the crap. Coulda just got me some damn cleaning stuff, I don’t need all the compliments n’shit.”

His voice was low, trying to sound harsh but he just couldn’t, he just wanted to try and deflect that damn look on your face because it looked like some girl looking at the love of her life in corny romance show. His nerves kicked under his skin, his heart racing and he felt the heat in his cheeks but when he watched your eyes glisten and he hated it.

He’d known you since he was 12, he’s bullied you, called you all sorts of names. Hell he’s seen other girls get nasty to you but you’ve never cried, you’ve never had those pretty eyes glisten with tears.

He stood, rare concern suddenly fleeting over him and he cupped your face, thumbs wiping over your cheeks as the tears spilled down them, for a second he thought it was him -maybe he was too rough with you, too forceful and let his ego drive him.

“M’sorry its so fucking stupid,”

Barou Shouei was a deep thinker, his mind raced more than he let off and it started to, to the point a fleeting thought of you breaking up with him actually surfaced by his building paranoia. Even if it didn’t make fucking sense that you would, it still annoyingly crossed his mind.

“What’s stupid?”

“I think I’m in love with you, B.”

Shouei stopped breathing, he froze, eyes widening as they locked with your glassy ones and you laughed through crying.

“Happy Birthday, Barou!” You mumbled through silly tears, trying so hard to deflect it with your shitty humour but watching you laugh through tears almost made a smile form on his own mouth.

“The hell you damn cryin’bout it you idiot?”

You opened your mouth to respond but his covered yours before you could start blabbering something out to him, the kiss was slow and messy but it was his own way of responding to your confession. He could taste himself on your tongue, mixed with that cherry lip balm and he groaned into you.

“You’re my girl,” he spoke against your mouth before planting a kiss to your forehead and pushing you towards the door.

—0—

Blue lock was a shock.

It wasn’t easy to suddenly have Barou gone from your life when you were so used to having him around for the last seven years, but perhaps it was a good thing. Soccer was his priority and you knew that from day one, you never thought you were above it and quite frankly you didn’t care. Some of your girlfriends didn’t get it, perhaps they were more needy, wanting to enjoy their youths with boys and having that American dream. Driving in cars late and night, recreating the titanic scene with the steam window and hand prints.

You used the opportunity to do the same as Barou and that was focus on yourself, you concentrated on your studies you perused what you wanted and you taught yourself not to rely on him.

You sent him a text every Friday about your week, you sent him texts when you were horny, you sent photos, videos but there was never a delivered messaged, never a response. You tried to keep positive, you tried to not let his lack of existence bother you.

But it was hard, some nights you teared up and called yourself selfish, sometimes you scolded him for not even trying to contact you. What kept you going was coffee and that his future was about to take off with the dreams he had.

He simply had to do it and you knew he’d be recognised, he’d be successful.

The day he called without much to say was the day you knew something was up with him.

“Well, I’ll let you go king~ keep devouring, keep pushing yourself and keep learning Barou. You’re gonna eat them alive and when you’re back, you can eat me alive again~! Turns out that unholy mouth of yours really does show me heaven~!”

You laughed as you hung up and sure enough after he earned his phone back that day, after he asked for a photo of just you -nothing sexual, nothing crude, just a simple photo of you in a summer dress you knew he was missing you.

He never told you he loved you back but you never felt unloved by him.

He’d text you occasionally, sounding blunt and trying to come across like texting was taxing on his time, even though he was the one who often messaged first. Waking up at an ungodly hour to say good morning and texting before you even ate with a goodnight.

When the two weeks off from Blue Lock arrived and Barou appeared at your new apartment, moving out of your family home and the visit was anything but tame. You’d still not had sex before he left and he was about to change it, hearing some of the guys talking in the lockers, seeing your messages and photos, missing you in general made for a messy and truthfully painful first experience.

“Gotta let me in,” his third finger entered you, twisting before spreading them and you bucked up into him, panting as you gripped the pillows behind you, “-think I’m gonna fit if you're this tight around my fingers? Open up girl,”

His tongue pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled back, pussy spread out from his fingers exposing your hardened bundle of nerves to him.

“M’cumming Barou!”

He hummed against your clit, red eyes peering up at you from your pussy as his tongue swirled on you, watching your chest heaving, body stuttering as you came down from another high.

Barou withdrew his fingers, wrapping it around his cock and he pumped a few times, spreading slick across the head of his dick before pressing it to your entrance.

“You got the birth control, right?”

You nodded dumbly, still panting from orgasm and almost too fucked out to process that he’d pressed his thick head to your already swollen hole, until he started to push forward and you tensed at the stretch. Barou clicked his tongue, eyes focused on wanting to watch his dick sink into you for the first time, it flexed at the thought of being the one to spread you open.

But your struggle made something conflicting lurch in his chest.

“I-I know you wanna watch b, I need your help though —it’s too big.”

He groaned at your pleading tone, damn well melting for you and sourly reminding him just how easily he’d put you first compared to anyone else in his life, including himself.

Barou shifted, one arm resting above your head to hover over you, the other moved down to press a thumb to your clit and your hips bucked at the sensitivity.

“Look at me,”

You did as he asked, teary eyes meeting his and you hiked your knees higher up his sides, one leg curling around his back, sitting next to your hand gripping his ass, the other holding his wrist to tug it off your clit, lacing his fingers through yours and placing it near your head.

Pushing his hips forward until his thick head pushed through and you moaned, Barou inhaled sharply, restraining himself from just burying himself into the hilt. You were so damn warm and it was sucking him in, that moan was only spurring him to test his self control.

“S’it, let her suck me in, she wants it, so let me damn well give it and stop being a fuckin’ tease.”

He felt you relax and he took the opportunity, bullying the rest of his way in and pressing into you balls deep. Burying his face into your neck as his hips stuttered, airy moan breathed onto your skin. Your teeth met his shoulder, biting down on him muffling your pained whimper at the burn.

He stilled himself, fighting himself to not cum as you clamped around him letting you adjust before he gave a test thrust, one turning into two before he set a pace that had your cunt squelching under him in no time. Your hips rolling to meet his and he realised watching your face, your expressions and doe eyes all fucked out was a better first image to have of you like this for the first time.

Barou watched as your head tilted back, a noise he’d never heard leave you as you moaned in a way that was borderline unholy, it sent a pulse to his cock, flexing it inside you and spurred him to thrust harder.

“Make that noise again-“ he felt you tighten around him, still keeping your head tilted and your body tensed, “that’s it huh? Right here?”

You nodded and babbled at him, slurring words to encourage him not to stop, the slapping of his wet balls hitting your ass, cunt swallowing him sloppily as he hit that spot over and over until you came around him for the first time, your hands blinding reaching for him in support as you literally convulsed, eyes rolling back and toes curling.

“Atta girl,” he groaned into your neck as your body fell slack, breathing heavy under him and his pace turned feral. Chasing his own end and using you under him to catch it, the only reason he lasted this long was because you’d sucked the life from him before this.

You always got so wet with his cock in your mouth, he loved how much you loved it, wrapping your arms around his thighs, sliding his thick cock down your throat like a pro. He’d cum so hard he ended up pushing you off him because you wouldn’t stop, finding it funny he was jolting under you from overstimulation, making a noise he’d never heard leave him before; some beggy whine that made you moan on his cock.

He didn’t like mess, but hell he loved seeing his cock buried in your mouth with his cum drooling out.

“B-Barou I’m gonna cum again! Don’t stop! There, there, fuck harder please! Cum in me, fill me up!”

He groaned at your babbling, tears spilling down your cheeks, your breath hitching when he gave you a harder thrust that had you looking at him a little worried.

“Who you think you’re barking orders at huh?” He was panty, breathy as he spoke but his voice still so deep, little bite behind it as he felt himself about to cum.

“You want me to fill you up? Best hold it in, don’t fucking waste it.” You nodded dumbly, desperately at him.

“Hah- I won’t, I’m cumming, I’m gonna -I love you, fuck you’re so b-big,”

He smiled at you, heart hammering in his ribs; you were all his.

—0—

‘Rising star Barou Shouei and potential love interest sighted again!’

Barou’s career took off at 19, three years a now. Both at twenty two years old and you knew better than to be easily swayed by headliners. You ignored posts flying around the internet but this was the third time in a month a photo was posted with the same girl and this one was hard to ignore when she had her arm gripped around his bicep.

He hardly looked amused, if anything he looked annoyed but that wasn’t exactly a rare expression for him to present when dealing with anyone, even you at times you were sure of it.

You chewed the inside of your cheek between biting your nails, anxiety suddenly flooding you about how exactly you should handle this, you didn’t know his team mates to question them or ask if you should be worried, quite frankly you’d never met anyone in this new team of his.

He wouldn’t do this.. it’s just not Barou. Cheating just isn’t his thing, he values himself too highly for it.

You ignored the notification bars at the top of your phone, pinging from different girl friends who were sending different emojis to express anger, guessing they’d forwarded the recent post to you to see.

But when Barou’s caller ID came in, covering your entire screen you let out a yelp and flung the phone across to the sofa from where you were sat, holding your breath as it rang and exhaling heavily when it stopped. Placing your hand on your heart feeling it thumping against your ribs.

Shit.

Shit why did you do that?

It rang again but you had frozen in your place, your brain telling you to answer him but your body just wouldn’t move, the only relief was when it stopped ringing.

The pinging of texts began and you picked the phone back up, watching as Barou started to message.

B > Answer your damn phone,

B > Oi! Woman you wanted me to call at seven.

You thumbs clumsily flew across the screen, your bubble showing as typing and it took Barou less than five seconds to hit the call button again.

“H-Hey B, sorry I-uh,”

“The fuck you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re doing summit you shouldn’t be, you not been using that damn toy again have you? Told you not to use it unless I’m-“

“N-No! I wasn’t doing that, Jesus Christ Barou what if someone heard you!?”

“Why? You with someone?”

“No. Aren’t you?”

Your hand slapped across your mouth when the words left you in a snarky tone, your annoyance getting the better of you before you could stop it, a heavy sigh left him breaking the tension, his gruff voice quieter than usual.

“Ignore that bullshit online, she’s the new physio for the team, just clingy as hell.”

“So, she just gets her hands all over you when I’m not there?”

“Well yeah, she’s does treatment and sports massage, it’s no big deal. Stop with the crybaby shit, it ain’t like you.”

Oblivious freaking idiot. Your phone tucked between your shoulder and head, because your hands wrung an invisible neck in front of you like Homer with Bart.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just me being a brat huh? M’gonna go Barou, I’m tired. speak to you in a few days when you’re not so busy with your team or new physio.”

The line going dead was far from a pleasant feeling, heart dropping to his stomach he stared at the home screen of his phone, that pretty photo of you in a sundress he’d changed back in blue lock three years ago. Barou being shocked was rare, you were both twenty two now and you’d never acted like this in ten years. It felt different, his guy was screaming at him leaving it to sit heavy in his stomach.

You’d never gone to bed without saying goodnight, you’d never got angry to the point where you’d literally shut him off and he needed more fingers to count the amount of times he had said something shitty. You usually fired back, that stubbornness you had and that he found always so endearing.

Opening up the chat of you both he stared at your name, but you never came back online.

It didn’t stop him sending a text goodnight though.

When he woke to no routine good morning text, despite you having read his goodnight text at 5am it gave a sour start to his day. He didn’t do anything wrong, you were throwing a damn tantrum over nothing so he opted to give you space.

“Heh, trouble in paradise aye?”

Barou only side glared at snuffy, ignoring his attempt of conversation as the striker sat in front of the obnoxiously large tv playing whatever film took his fancy this evening whilst stretching himself out.

“Showed in your training today,”

“If you’re just here to talk shit then fuck off, I ain’t in the mood.”

Taking a seat on the sofa behind Barou, he hummed and watched the tv.

“Didn’t wanna say back along but kinda figured this would happen, girls are a distraction y’know?”

“Didn’t see you looking troubled in the hot tub photos of ya with them girls, go preach to Aiku, my girl ain’t your concern.”

“Wrong-“ Snuffy twirled the remote to the tv around in his hand, starting to flick through the channels, “-anything that runs a risk to my team playin’ is my concern. ‘Sides whilst we’re on the topic, you not thought about other girls? Instead of being with the same one? Haven’t you been with her for like, forever?”

“Sixteen and no.”

“Or not thought about how feels with you being away more than with her? Long distance is such a drag, you’re both missing out on life.”

The statement didn’t trigger Barou to think about himself, he was living his goals in life and thriving, coming back to you was a reward, a comfort he’d always known so he wasn’t trouble by any of it. But he’d never once stopped to think about you and your life at home, waiting for him to come back whilst he was off travelling the world. You never complained, you never seemed sad and always supported him, but was it all a front? Was he stopping you from living as freely as he was? He hated the thought of someone else making you happy, someone else taking his position and being around you more than he was -someone else fucking you and seeing that dumb, love struck look you gave him.

He’d never even told you he loved you back, he never felt he needed to because you just got him in ways no one else did.. but if he couldn’t even give you that, how could he give you the type of relationship you deserved?

You deserved everything and more.

“I guess we’re all different, I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it. one of the guys overheard your conversation about the new physio, the media has been in a frenzy about it so putting two and two together isn’t difficult. But fix it, it’s affecting your play and you’re headlining at the moment, don’t let this ruin your high.”

—0—

You never called him back and he hated it.

He really fucking hated it.

But instead of biting the bullet and making the move himself Barou festered and festered. His focus on football made the days go quickly but the evenings were agonisingly slow and his red eyes drifted to his phone in hopes to see your name more than he’d like to admit.

Despite his stubbornness in making the move, because Barou Shouei would never chase anyone, he was starting to wonder if this was for the best. Perhaps you’d both been together too long it just became a habit, something he was so used to that he never thought about anything else or anyone else.

Did that mean he was holding you back? Were you being selfless and he selfish?

His move to Italy wasn’t exactly a great distance to be at when things like this happened, you were both so far apart that it was difficult to just reach out, Barou didn’t think long distance was much of an issue until something went wrong.

“Hey Barou, it’s time for your physio!”

The man sucked his teeth, not particularly in the mood to deal with this girl who’d been causing havoc in his relationship.

Oliver came out groaning, swinging his shoulders and arms like tension had been released.

“She’s so good, honestly babe those hands are magic.”

She giggled at him and waved him off trying to act modest and Barou sent a harsh glare towards both.

“I’ll skip tonight, hands ain’t going anywhere near me after touching that slime ball, fuck knows what’s over your hands.”

She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“I bought all new hand sanitizers and wipes Shouei so get your butt in there!”

Oliver elbowed him and gave a wink, suggestive and mocking, something that made Barou’s fist curl into a ball.

“You’d be shit in a threesome,”

“Get fucked fuckboy.”

“Eh, that’s suggestive-“ Oliver recoiled with false disgust, “-you really would be shit, didn’t know you swung both ways. I ain’t into that man, only bottom I’m ever being is under a pretty girl.”

“Will you shut up? You’re disgusting.”

“You’re such grump! When was the last time you got laid or you still arguing with miss perfect? She’s wasted on you y’know, man she’s wife material, imagine the attention she gets when you ain’t there.”

Barou’s fist swung so quickly it gave zero time for Aiku to get away, just managing to miss the worst of the punch it still grazed his cheek. What he wasn’t expecting was Barou’s knee to end up in his stomach, the man urged from the impact shocked that Shouei actually managed to land a hit on him. Then slightly impressed by the fact it took more than half the team to hold him back, even then he made their feet move.

“Shouei, that’s enough!”

Perhaps Aiku had pushed a little more than he should have, but he kinda found it hard to ignore when he’d heard about trouble in paradise with you both, he hoped his taunt would spur Barou into contacting you… that it would stop his tantrum, get his head out his ass and get his head back in the game.

Cause even Aiku had seen the worth in you and Barou losing that would be foolish.

He just didn’t realise how much worse it had made it instead.

—0—

On day four in lack of communication with your boyfriend left you feeling heavy and guilty. Finding yourself sat at home staring at a letter that had arrived this morning, you graduated your degree yesterday, passing your courses and got a placement to be a paramedic.

You should be celebrating, you should be happy. Maybe out with friends, others who graduated and family. Your Mother, Father and Brother had attended the graduation and you were hoping Barou would have been there, you weren’t expecting him to be nor blamed him because he was in Italy following his own career dreams.

You never stopped him, you never expected him to detour from his focus and knew it required the majority of his time.

A small, selfish part of you was wishing he could have just paused just once to share it with you, a small part of you told yourself how amazing it would have been if him not contacting you was because he was flying back to secretly turn up at the graduation. Instead due to your stubbornness in not calling him back, you hadn’t even received a phone call or text or say congratulations.. was this your fault? Had you been a little too sensitive and dramatic about it? Were you being paranoid for no reason? You’d never been threatened by girls with him before, so why was this bothering you so?

Your gaze returned to your phone sat in your hands, silent and cold, the screen black from being untouched and you knew if you unlocked the phone it would show Barou’s contact details.

Because you’d been hovering over the call button for the last thirty minutes after opening the incredible offer letter in front of you.

It was frustrating that he didn’t seem to understand why you were annoyed and hurt, which was ridiculous because he didn’t even actually do anything wrong besides dismiss how you felt. It didn’t help either that only yesterday another photo was posted of him and the teams new physio yet again named as his potential girlfriend.

Funny how you never seen photos of her with the other boys in the team.

Nice to see that he wasn’t even trying to solve it.

You didn’t realise you were crying until little drops fell onto your black screen, your vision clouding as they filled your eyes finally springing free.

Sometimes you just needed a good cry right? Maybe it would be a good idea to get it out now before you called him, it would make it less likely you’d cry on the phone right?

The thought of letting go for a minute was enough to let the tears erupt to a sob, one of those ugly cries you needed to get out your system and you started to feel better after another thirty minutes of crying.

You wiped your tears beforing shoving your hair into a messy bun, sudden courage in you springing forth now the silliness was out of the way. A face of determination as you wiped against at your face before slapping your cheeks.

“C’mon girl, you’re being silly. It’s now or never!”

You grabbed your phone and didn’t give yourself a second of hesitation in clicking the call button.

It felt like it rang forty times, feeling ever so dramatic and like time had slowed because it only took three rings for Barou to answer.

Okay.

Good start, he answered super fast.

“Heeeeeey! Shouei’s phone!”

Your jaw dropped at the girls voice, your breath hitched in your throat and you were pretty sure your eyes almost fell out their sockets like something from Tom and Jerry.

Your voice failed you, the movement and voices turning into nothing but muffled noises because your heart was thumping so loudly in your chest your ribs were vibrating.

Fuck why were you sweating all of a sudden? Why did you feel so hot?

Christ almighty were you about to be sick?

A deeper voice calling your name eventually brought you back, you had no idea how many times Barou had said it only that by the time you registered it was him saying it you noticed concern lacing into it, because when Barou was concerned he sounded kinda pissed off like he wasn’t quite able to handle the uncertainty of something, like when his control and confidence slipped he faltered.

“Uh, I’m sorry didnt mean to- uh, I didn’t mean to bother you? I’m sorry I just, I’m sorry, we can talk later I -“

You babbled, you stumbled and you over apologised for something you didn’t even need to apologise for.

Fuck it should be him!

The fuck were you saying sorry for?!

His voice was calm, stern and trying to keep the situation from escalating he called your name in a way that brought tears to your eyes.

Fuck good was all that crying for if you were getting so easily overwhelmed like this?!

“Oi, you trust me right?”

Your hand clasped over your mouth before you could say anything, along with hiding the sob behind it but Barou heard.

You heard a door closing on his end, you heard him moving somewhere.

Did you trust him? You were overwhelmed, far too emotional at the moment and confused to even answer that, you faltered because it was all too much.

You wanted to say yes you trusted him, you wanted to speak, to talk to him about the offer letter because it would be a good thing to discuss, it was good timing.

But your sob broke through the silence again.

“Hey, don’t do that shit-“ he was quiet, his voice still carrying his usual deepness but there was something added into it you’d never heard from him, almost soothing, caring and it made you sob harder because it reminded you when you told him you loved him and silly cried over it, stupid emotions! Why couldn’t they just let you be strong for five minutes?!

“-we need to talk, huh.”

“Yeah,”

Your heart plummeted into your stomach, its fight to stay in your chest lost as the acid crept into it, churning in your stomach as your gut was telling you where this was going, your heart unable to fight or resist any longer.

“It ain’t gonna work like this, you deserve better-“

How fucking dare he.

Rage wasn’t something you felt often, it wasn’t in your personality to get angry like this, feeling it burn under your skin and desperate to act out physically. In fact the last time you remember feeling like this was when you kicked the ball into 12 year old Barou’s face for degrading your younger brother.

It suddenly became easier to hold yourself together a little better, focusing on feeling more angry than upset, them moving together in some aid to feed your fiery side.

“-if that’s what you want, Shouei.”

You were sure the lingering echo of tears and upset still clung to your tone, regardless of how strong you sounded on your side your lip was wobbling and your eyes were blurring with tears.

“I dunno what I want.”

“If it’s got to that point, then that’s the answer for us both.”

His silence was disturbing and it was only giving you room to allow another crying session to break through the very thin self restraint holding it back.

So you took control.

“Take care Shouei, all the best to you and her.”

“Oi, I ain’t with her, it ain’t like that I told you to ignore that shit in the med-“

Call ended.

Red eyes stayed down at his phone cutting off back to his background of you, hanging up on him before he was even able to finish his sentence, the regret already firing through his stomach as the heaviness of guilt made even his strong shoulders hunch.

Fuck, what the fuck did he just do?

Barou flicked to your name in his call log, thumb not even hesitating over your name as he went to call you back.

Sorry this number is not available, please call back later.

Never one for caring about social media until this moment he went to yours, still having accessing to it he scanned through going to click the message button, stopping himself when he realised why you deserved better, deserved someone who would give you the time you should have.

seeing your photos of your graduation yesterday and being so wrapped up on his own shit he hadn’t even reached out; he didn’t even remember it. Isagi commented on it, of course he fucking did but Aikueven acknowledged your achievement in the comments, he didn’t know you even knew Aiku.

He locked his phone, throwing it onto his bed and pinching the bridge of his nose to try take away the sting flaring through it, his throat running dry as his vision suddenly blurred.

He cleared his throat, fighting away any progress on that happening he never even cried as a baby!

Perhaps this was for the best, even if it felt wrong.

The feeling would pass with time.

Right?

—0—

You removed Barou on socials, blocking his number and ways to contact until you felt ready to face the music, coming off socials as well to avoid actually seeing anymore posts.

You needed to learn to be selfish now and focus on yourself, start a life without Barou and maybe learn some new things about yourself, pushing yourself out your comfort zone would be the first place to start… after devouring tubs of ice cream and sobbing over titanic on repeat.

Jack could have damn well fit on that door!

You could already hear the lyrics at the back of your mind, ready to messily sing along to Near, far, wherever you are believe that the heart does go on, once more, you open the door, and ou're here in my heart and my heart will go on and on.

Oh it was gonna happen, you were gonna be a mess.

You sat numbly looking at the letter in front of you through blurry tears looking like a blotch of white on your coffee table. You had options to be placed abroad for two year’s experience, you didn’t think your option of Italy would actually get offered, your second choice was England.

You’d got the highest marks and worked your ass off to improve your chances to get your offer, but the idiot Shouei wouldn’t ever know anything about that would he.

Now all you had to do was decide a box to tick.

You were calling Barou to tell him you could accept Italy, that for the first time in your lives you could be together longer than a few weeks at a time, maybe finally move in together.

Once again your life was moving towards him, because of him and it needed to stop.

England might be a refreshing option.

You’re pretty sure Isagi had friends there on another soccer team, Nagi was it?

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

#bllk barou #barou shouei #bllk fanfic #bllk smut #blue lock #blue lock nagi #bllk x reader #barou smut #barou x you #barou shouei smut #barou shouei x reader #barou shoei #blue lock barou #barou x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi x you #bllk nagi #nagi seishiro x reader

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josnhoes · 9 months

Text

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader.

This part focuses on Damien. The POV switches from Reader to Damien part way through.

May or may not get a part two.

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, drugging, mentioned abduction, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older

You never expected being saved by Batman and the Robin brood would ever cause worse trouble then what you were saved from. But life never worked how things are supposed to. You looked at the barred window and tried to remember *how* things got to this.

You liked to think you had a pretty good life, you had your own little apartment in a slightly better part of Gotham; you had a job at a local coffee and book shop. Money could be tight at times, and your savings were slim, but you were taken care of and as safe as you could be in Gotham.

You alternated weekends volunteering at the local animal shelter too. You always liked animals and if Karma was real it was always good to put good energy into the world. Your free time was spent recovering from such a busy week and hanging out with friends. You were painfully normal which oddly enough made you weird in Gotham. Everyone in Gotham had something odd about them or their situation in life. You had yet to meet yours.

The first time you were saved by Batman it had been during a bank robbery. You had gone in to pull out some money; the ATMs outside were still busted from some kids breaking into them for a tiktok...well that's what they claimed most knew it *was* for the cash. As you hold your arms up the loaded robber making everyone go to a wall, you couldn't help but feel like you were being put up for execution. A firing line of hostages and you were in the middle.

You blessedly didn't have to think on that too long and Batman and his current Robin busted in taking down a major chunk of the group. You weren't a hero but when it looked like one of the gun men were about to shoot Robin you moved. Tackling the guy to the groud knocking his gun away. A mistake on your part as Robin was aware and ready to move so he didn't *need* saving, and now the pair's eyes were on you.

Later that week you were surprised by Robin on your balcony. Robin...who you would later Learn was Damien Wayne... had come to 'assess' you. For what you didn't know is he already knew everything about you. His entire family did; Damien just wanted to be the first to speak to you.

The conversation was emotionally charged for sure; Robin scolded you for putting yourself in harm's way. Which was fair since you weren't exactly trained for that kind of thing. But the whiplash from scolding to thanking you and you could swear you saw a blush on his face. Apparently, saying thank you to a civilian was embarrassing for him.

Robin...no Damien proceeded to then lecture you about being up so late, and how important sleep was to grow. Bold words coming from a half pint who probably slept once a week. No way this kid wasn't in school, and he spent most his nights on the streets fighting crime so he assumedly didn't have time to sleep. This ended in him bullying you into going to sleep.

Damien didn't like the idea of having been saved by a civilian. To make matters worse his siblings had use it to tease him. Your actions had gotten all of their attention. Tim had poured himself into finding out more about you using your social media, and anything else he could get into digitally. His predecessor was more then happy to share *everything* he'd found.

You were so....so normal. A sparkling clean civilian. You had some issues, nothing he nor the family couldn't help with. You were exactly the type of person he and his family strived to protect, if he didn't act Gotham would ruin you. He made that opinion known very vocally too. For once his father and siblings listened to reason the first time.

He'd originally come to your window to scope your home out. At 3 in the morning he expected you to be in bed, but you were up. You had no cause to be up so late so he made himself and his lecture about your health known. He'd even managed to scold his way into your home.

Your home was...eclectic. *Clearly* you didn't have the funds for frivolous things, your furniture was old and worn. But there was a lot of personality here. All of it a hint to who you were in private. He would have to investigate further once he got you into bed. A task that had been almost too easy. He stayed until you were asleep and began investigating your home.

You loved animals, something he could bond with you later about. There were some games; video and board, which would help the others both with you. But you had lots of books too. Various types but the most common ones being fantasy or romance; Todd would be ecstatic.

You had some medications, nothing he didn't know of from Tim's digging into you. Several people them had more then they should in them, obviously you were forgetting to take them regularly. Which wouldn't do. He'd have to tell father sooner. But oh wouldn't they all be jealous he got to know you first, see how you live, and even tucked you in!

It would all work out, he would see to it himself if need be. Soon they'd bring his new little sibling home, and all of them could protect and care for them like they deserved.

#yandere dc #batfam #platonic yandere #yandere

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bunny-yan · 6 months

Note

Hello!! Thanks for sharing your writing with us! I'm a fan of your Hero/Reincarnated Reader story! :D Personally, I find it very cathartic lol

I've read the manga you based your story on a long time ago (tbh they did not give justice to the previous reincarnations AT ALL in my opinion), but do you have plans to expand on why Hero left Reader for each reincarnation in your story? Is there something deeper at play here (on Hero's side or even Reader's side because I think feelings of love or even basic affection would dissipate after the second reincarnation) or is it simply he wanted to play around with others and string along Reader each time? Do you think there will be another love interest that will show up in this current life?

If escape doesn't work, how would Hero react if Reader took their own life instead? And if Reader is successful, would they be "cursed" in the next life to be Hero's childhood friend? lolol

I know it's not possible, but I think it'd be beautiful karma for Reader to fall in love and marry someone else because I feel like that would really kill Hero lol

Sorry for the question spam, but thank you again for your stories and I hope to see more adventures of Hero/Reader! :D

(Btw, how will King fit into all this or was the King/Reader/Hero story a one-off?)

So I do plan on expanding on Tasman's reasoning for leaving Reader behind and you're pretty close to his reasoning, but I thought I'd expand on how the darling would commit suicide in this particular ask. I think it would also be pretty interesting to watch Tasman suffer and be forced to watch his darling find happiness with someone else so def saving that for a future draft!

The Sharing is Caring Series are one-off stories that include two+ yans, but if you're interested in seeing that sort of dynamic I am more than willing to write for it! Hopefully this answered your question <3

TW:Mentions Death, Depictions of Violence, Implied Violence, Suicide, Language, Infantilization, Minors DNI

—

It began slowly.

If you moved too quickly he would notice because he caught anything and everything. Watching you was a hobby of his and when you weren’t allowed to leave his sight, it was no surprise that he got good at it.

You didn’t come on too strong.

It was hard to imagine he’d have anything other than suspicion if you put on a lovey dovey act, throwing yourself into his arms and professing your love when you couldn’t stand the sight of him the week before. Couldn’t stand his words whether they called you selfish or repeated his desperate love. Couldn’t stand his hands as they grabbed at you, forcing you to comply while convincing himself that this was what you also wanted, you were just too blind to see it. Too angry.

The goddess knew what she was doing, tying your souls together and to fight a fate as destined as the two of yours?

It was foolish.

So you played the fool.

You let him think that you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking.

You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you actually apologized in the middle of a heated argument. He was yelling about the distance you were creating between the two of you, telling you that you weren’t letting your love and relationship grow if you were going to continue to treat him like a monster and you snapped an apology in his face.

It wasn’t sweet and demure, it didn’t even hold an ounce of regret, but it was an apology nonetheless and the last words he expected to come out of your mouth.

You crossed your arms, looking away from him and when it took him a moment to regain himself, telling you that he was grateful that you were finally seeing reason, you held back the vicious words you wanted to hurl into his face.

Oh, you loved when his face would twist in outrage or hurt or better yet a mix of the two.

It meant nothing good for you or for your body the next day leading to the week after but sometimes you couldn’t ignore the momentary satisfaction of letting him know just how you felt.

But you would endure. You would wait and bide your time for the one thing you’d wanted to do since you’d memorized the number of cracks in each of the four walls, restarting your count whenever he blew his top, taking his anger out on them instead of you.

Tasman was smart. He was suspicious when the two of you began to argue less, a questioning look piercing your body.

You didn’t yell until you lost your voice, you didn’t give him the silent treatment, or call him an awful monster, no.

He was right.

Yes, you were being selfish for refusing the gift that was his presence.

You were inconsiderate for not thanking him for stealing you away from your life, ruining any chance you had at peace and true happiness.

He was so right when he told you that he knew what was best for the two of you and that when you denied it, you didn’t really know what you were saying. You were just confused.

Selfish, inconsiderate, confused. Keeping up the facade was harder than you thought it’d be.

Whenever he came to you, upset about something you did or some affection you didn’t give, you just mumbled out an apology, going back to doing whatever it was you were doing.

Tasman felt complex. He didn’t understand why one moment he couldn’t get through to you and the next you understood what he’d been trying to get across so desperately for months. When he finally asked, you told him that you were tired of arguing. You were tired of not being happy. That maybe you had overreacted when he came back. That despite him not being able to get it right for the first eight lives the two of you spent together it would only hurt the two of you further if you continued to bring up the past. You wanted to move on, to start anew. To give the two of you a chance.

You couldn’t explain the look on his face.

It was hopeful. It was… something you might have fallen for had you not already come so far.

It took some time getting used to your willing affection.

He’d stiffen when you’d lean against him when the two of you were riding a horse to your next destination, not twisting in uncomfortable ways to avoid him. You accepted the meals he brought to you, going so far to make him tea when he seemed stressed. You didn’t stray too far away from the camp and when you did you didn’t throw a tantrum, telling him that he needed to give you space or that he was suffocating you. His hands were hesitant when they touched you but his desire quickly made him comfortable. You no longer sneered or pulled away, you would rest in his arms when he held you. Something he could only dream about the last few months. But his dream were becoming a reality.

A part of him was suspicious, afraid that this was too good to be true that your behavior was a front to attempt another plan of escape but the other part of him, the hopeful part of him wanted to believe.

You wanted to be with him. You wanted to be happy with him.

Lost in thought, he smiled when you came over, serving him your usual herbal tea. You said it was meant to relax him, and he’d definitely felt as if he was on cloud nine. Maybe being able to pull you into his lap as he did, was apart of his feeling of floating on air but he didn’t think about it too deeply.

“Lover?” he began, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You hummed, your usual response whenever he required your attention.

What was he going to say?

He felt like this was good to be true. He felt as if this was all a ruse and that you were hiding something deeper, something more sinister.

Sure he felt off, but maybe he was just second guessing himself. Maybe everything was fine and he just couldn’t imagine happiness for himself. Maybe it had been so long that it seemed impossible but the two of you had nothing if not hope. Hope that you could finally get it right this time. Hope that you could understand a fraction of the feelings he has for you, even if you couldn’t return them… right now.

“It’s nothing.” he said after a long pause, heaving out a sigh. “Just promise me something?”

Humming again, he gripped you tighter before saying, “Promise me that we’ll always be together like this.”

There was a short pause, he felt a small inkling of fear that grew insurmountably in the time it took for you to respond, but he let out a breath of relief that didn’t quite ease his worries when you finally said,

“I promise.”

~*~

Tasman woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong.

He’d been tired but he’d never felt anything like this. His body was heavy like lead, each muscle refusing to move and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. It took all the strength in his body to blink and when his vision finally cleared he saw shadows dancing across the ceiling.

His hearing might have been the one sense that hadn’t been impeded because he could hear the familiar song you used to sing when the two of you were younger. It’d been so long since the last time he’d heard it.

It took a considerable amount of strength to turn his head and when he saw you, sitting in your familiar corner on the windowsill he felt his heart ache to call out to you, but it was difficult to swallow, to speak.

You stopped humming when you heard his breathing turn ragged.

Turning around, he didn’t like the unconcerned look in your eyes as you watched him.

“You’re awake?”

“What… what did you do to me?”

Your expression didn’t change, glancing back towards the window as you pulled your legs closer.

“I was worried that I’d get caught. I knew you were suspicious, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.”

“What did you do?” he asked, voice lacking his usual seething tone due to whatever you had done. He’d been too close to you for you to make deals with any dark mages. The time and effort it took would be too long, too strenuous and too obvious.

This couldn’t be magic.

“Did you know the goddess created an entirely new system for your body?” you asked, voice curious as you rested your head on your knees. “It should’ve been obvious. Your body is impervious to the heat, cold, wind, sand, or snow, and most physical and magical attacks do nothing to hurt you.”

You frowned, “It’s unfair. It’s no wonder the demon king never defeated you in any of our past lives.”

Tasman’s breath was ragged. He didn’t want to know. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Answer me.”

Looking at him, he was unnerved with how unbothered you were. “I tested it out. How much poison I could feed you without you noticing before it started having an effect but it never worked. But of course I should’ve figured that lethal doses in regular people would do nothing to you.”

You laughed, humorless and dry as you shook your head. “Do you know the trouble I went to to make sure you wouldn’t pick up on it? And you were too eager at the opportunity of a relationship that you let me do it.”

“You-You can’t hurt me. Whatever you did I’ll-”

You shook your head, almost disgusted.

“Tasman, this was never about hurting you.”

He watched as your feet slid down the windowsill, light illuminating the edges of your body. You took slow, measured steps as you spoke, a whisper of a smile on your face.

“I prayed to the goddess that you wouldn’t feel it. That there was a chance, that for once in one of my lives I’d get what I wanted.” You felt yourself get emotional as you recalled everything you’d been through. “I waited for you. I wanted you to love me and I couldn’t have it. I wanted a new life and I couldn’t have it. I’ve tried everything, Tasman and you know what I've noticed. You were the reason for every misstep.”

He tried shaking his head, tried telling you what he really meant what you meant to him.

“I’m trying, I’ll try just please-”

You shook your head, the humorless laugh almost floating from your body.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you really think that if you were willing to make things work it wouldn’t have happened by now? In any of our lives? It’s the goddess’s desire that we remain together and yet we can never make it work. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how much I cried, screamed, protested that this wasn’t right. That you were hurting me.”

His throat was tight with emotion, pleading almost begging in the raspy tone of his.

“Please, I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was triggering his senses that something was wrong. It could’ve been whatever you had drugged him with but he had an ominous premonition.

“You aren’t. If you were, we wouldn't be here right now and I wouldn’t have had to repeat myself so many times.”

Shaking your head, he finally noticed the glint against the silver metal, watching as it raced before you put the hilt of the blade against your head.

“You don’t listen. You don’t care what I have to say. I throw tantrums as far as you’re concerned. And the minute I leave you drag me back and treat me like a petulant child, scolding me for leaving your side.”

You didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or if this was for him but you couldn’t stop.

“When I want you, you want nothing to do with me and when I want nothing to do with you, I can’t get two seconds without you breathing down my neck.”

“What-”

“I want nothing to do with you and yet I have to force myself to tolerate your existence, tolerate you touching me, choke on the words you force down my throat just for the chance that you’d leave me alone long enough to find the right herb. Just long enough to not notice what I mixed in your drinks.”

His froze in realization. How long had you planned this?

“And it finally worked.” You smiled, coming near the bedside and crouching in front of him. You could see the anger in his eyes up close without fear that he’d lash out at you.

“How could you do this to me?”

You gave him a mock pout, cocking your head to the side. “Poor Tasman. It must’ve been so rough getting everything you ever wanted. Everyone’s love and affection, the power of the world at your fingertips, even my love!” For the first time you got angry. “You had my fucking love in your hands and you crushed it. You treated me as if I didn’t matter to you. And I guess at the end of the day, I don’t.” A harsh laugh escaped from your lips as you narrowed your eyes on him. “I’m no hero. There aren’t millions of people who are relying on me to defeat the big bad demon king. There wouldn't be riots in the street if I up and disappeared and there won’t be, because it isn’t the case for you. You won’t disappear. You’ll just keep coming up with new ways to make sure I’ll never be able to escape from you and they won’t bat an eye. Because you matter to people. You matter. Even if you’d abandon them the next day for your own selfish greed.”

“What are you going to do with that?” he asked, understanding his meaning when his eyes looked at the blade in your hand.

You sneered, narrowing your eyes as you said, “Don’t worry. This isn’t for you.”

It didn’t take him long to figure out what you meant.

“Don’t. This is stupid. We’ll just start over and I’ll know. Let’s just work this out and we can-”

Standing, you brushed off your clothes, the gesture nervous as you looked down at the sharp blade.

“It was never about you.” you said quietly. You gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He was getting desperate. He couldn’t threaten you, he couldn’t beg or plead or say anything to convince you against this.

“You promised.”

There was a pause and for a moment he felt that maybe you’d reconsider. That you’d realize that your behavior was hysterical and that you take a moment to calm down.

“I did and I’ll keep my promise.”

Looking at him, you shook your head.

“You said it yourself. We’ll just start over.”

The slow realization in his eyes was enough.

“I want you to live with what you did to me. I want you to know that I'll never let you hurt me again.”

It happened before he could say anything.

Your movements were sharp and jerky, stumbling after plunging the blade into your throat.

He felt his soul cry out, begging his body to move, pleading to the goddess that he’d give anything, sacrifice anything if he could just get to you in this moment. He could heal you if you would just come a little closer, but you staggered against the windowsill, moving farther away, staring at him as you began to choke on your blood.

He watched you suffer, watched your body twitch and fight against the pain, and watched as you finally went still. Leaning against the side of the windowsill, still staring at him.

Tasman couldn’t move.

His body wouldn’t listen to him. He felt tears slide down the side of his face as he choked on a strangled cry.

He couldn’t move.

He felt the overwhelming, aching desire to cradle you in his arms. To hold you close. To wipe the blood away from your face. To shut your accusing eyes but he couldn’t move.

Whatever you had given him kept him in a docile state. Kept him still and feeling too guilty to look away from your eyes. Your soulless eyes. He could tell. He felt as if something was missing from his own as he continued to stare into the eyes missing life, the eyes he’d watch fade quickly.

Too quickly.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yan!tasman #yandere hero #hero yandere

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taexual · 6 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 7 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, a ton and a half of mutual pining, SLOW BURN

words: 9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 7 ► my secrets are burning a hole through my heart

When Jungkook returned to his own bunk that night, he drew his curtains and spent the whole bus ride to Copenhagen plotting his next move, wishing he’d stayed next to you as you slept, and cursing his friends all at the same time.

He knew that, to Sid, it must have felt like Jungkook had already lost the bet. He’d admitted to being in love with you, and there couldn't be a bigger loss than the vulnerability that comes with having feelings—not to a loser like Sid, at least.

So, it was a matter of pride that first time in Prague, when Sid proposed the bet. Jungkook couldn’t have his friends think that, all these years later, he was still obsessed with you. Still down bad—very bad—for you.

And a casual date was supposed to prove that he was casual.

He wasn’t. God, there was casual, and there was him when he saw you, dressed up for the wedding, on the train.

He supposed it irked him, this realisation, this persistent, undying love. Not because he didn’t want to be in love with you—that was out of his control, he couldn’t help his feelings—but because this was supposed to mean that his friends had been right.

But he didn’t think they were right.

They treated his love for you like something to be embarrassed about. Something shameful, pathetic.

In reality, it was the opposite. The moments he’d shared with you over the past few days lingered in the corners of his mind, and it made him happy, and hopeful, and lucky, and full of positive adjectives that flooded his mind each time he remembered your smile after that cursed Backstreet Boys performance at the wedding.

And he knew he was different from his friends who only felt butterflies when they were hugging a bottle of Bacardi or sitting behind the wheel of a race car. But different didn’t mean worse.

That had been typical Sid, needing to prove that he was better. That he was superior precisely because he wasn’t in love with anyone.

And Tristan had realised at the bar earlier that the point he was really trying to make with this bet was that, yes, he was in love with you four years after you broke up. But it wasn’t pathetic, and it wasn’t shameful.

And he wasn’t inferior to Sid because of it.

He could make him lose this bet despite still being in love with you.

Which, Jungkook realised—as he rolled over on his back and exhaled so deeply, the covers fluttered around his bunk—was pathetic. It made sense to care about you, because, at least, you’d cared about him, too, once upon a time. But Sid, most likely, never did.

And yet Jungkook still wanted to make him crumble, purely because Sid went around playing games, manipulating people, and doing whatever the hell he wanted, and never—never—suffering any consequences of his actions.

In a way, Jungkook supposed, he deserved consequences, too. He almost expected inconveniences to begin striking him as payback for agreeing to Sid’s game. As karma.

He didn’t want that, and he was afraid these inconveniences would grow: a bird would crap on him, he’d forget the lyrics to his songs, fall off the stage, get hit by a bus on his way out of the venue—and, to top it off, you’d stop talking to him after learning about the bet.

No. No, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

He tried to reason with himself then: did he really care about his Katana that much?

But that didn’t work, because he knew he did.

He’d bought the bike with his first paycheck—actually, his sixth, because he wasn’t being paid much when Rated Riot first started out, and the bike, even damaged, cost a fortune. And he’d repaired it from the terrible condition it was in all by himself; the engine almost literally crumbled in his hands.

He was proud of it. He loved it. He did not want to lose it, not to anyone, and especially not to Sid and Jude: one of them would never shut up if Jungkook lost this bet, and the other one would probably forget about it after a few days, but the principle was the same.

This wouldn’t work, he had to keep the bike.

Then, he tried to find a way around the conditions that Sid had come up with: he clarified that both of you had to know that you were back together. That, unfortunately, eliminated the possibility of Jungkook making it seem like you were back together, even though you weren’t; not really.

But then there was the condition of not telling you about the bet. What if he asked someone else to tell you? He supposed that could work—unless it’d make everything much worse since you wouldn’t hear about it from him, and you’d be so mad, you’d stop talking to him anyway.

No, that was too risky; it wouldn’t work either.

Finally, he figured, he was going to have to win the bet fairly, because of the following reasons: a) he couldn’t find a way to cheat, at least not at this point; b) he simply couldn’t let Sid win, not when he already won everything, because people were too intimidated to stand up to him; c) he couldn’t lose his bike; and, most importantly, d) he really did want to get back together with you and shuddered at the thought of losing you.

The tour bus reached Copenhagen in the early hours of the afternoon.

Nearly everyone had plans for the day before the soundcheck – Taehyung and Luna had decided to see the Tivoli Gardens before you even reached Denmark, and Yoongi and Hoseok decided to be the third and the fourth wheel respectively.

Sid, Jude, and Minjun had, weirdly, split up. You weren’t aware of each of their whereabouts, but you knew Jungkook didn’t go with them, citing his reasoning as “couldn’t decide which one of them to go with”. You assumed he would eventually end up joining Taehyung and Luna, too.

Meanwhile, you stayed back to help the crew prepare for the show—you thought you had to, since you still felt guilty for getting drinks last night while everyone else stayed back to work.

Everyone looked overworked, yet insisted they were fine today. You sent a few of the staff members off to rest—they left the room, but you had a suspicion that they went to work elsewhere instead—and joined Seokjin in the empty venue.

The Rated Riot logo was already hoisted by the back of the stage. The lights on it still flickered when it was turned on; at certain points, it appeared as though the band’s name was “R-R-R-Rate it”. Not to mention, countless lightbulbs around the frame had shattered last night in Berlin, and made the logo look purposefully edgy—if you didn’t know why some of the bulbs weren’t working.

To solve this, the crew had strung fairy lights around the broken sign and curled some of the strings around the wall behind it, illuminating the dark backdrop of the stage. This accentuated the lettering and created a lightning bolt effect on the backdrop, even despite some of the lights not working.

You thought that, as soon as the crew fixed the flickering—they were working on it at the moment—you might actually like the logo better this way. Perhaps the roadies should be invited to the next concept meeting for the band.

However, you had to admit, you wouldn’t have stayed back if you’d known Seokjin would employ you to carry the equipment inside. You wanted to help, but not at the expense of your spine.

The venue for tonight wasn’t particularly big—none of them were, it’s why you loved Rated Riot’s gigs so much; all of them felt incredibly intimate—but the distance from the bus to the stage was a long one.

Now, Seokjin watched as you heaved the metal decorations with pitying eyes, yet did not offer his assistance – because he knew you would refuse, but also because he preferred to yell at people rather than to carry heavy things himself.

“Where am I putting this?” you huffed—not for the first time today; Seokjin insisted on supervising every piece of equipment individually instead of allowing you to drop everything wherever.

“This one can go anywhere,” he waved his hand around just as his phone started to ring in his hand. “I need to take th—hold on, not there!”

You blinked at him, already in the process of putting the metal frame down. “You said anywhere!”

“Anywhere but there!” he shouted as he picked up the call and turned his back to you, focusing on the conversation on his phone. “Yes? No! No. Really? No. Okay, yes.”

It was hard to tell if the conversation he was having was serious enough to ignore you, based on what you heard—but that was how phone conversations with him went; if you asked two questions at the same time, he’d only answer one and it was your responsibility to guess which one.

Deciding to just leave the metal frame anywhere—except where he initially said—and run out of here to help someone else before he could notice your absence, you strained to drag the decoration closer towards the stage. You attempted to lower it slowly, but your hands were nearly shaking at that point, and you ended up dropping it when it was a few inches off the ground. You barely managed to leap away from it as it landed with a clang far louder than was necessary.

Naturally, Seokjin turned around, displeased. Covering the speaker on his phone, he clicked his tongue.

“Please,” he said. “I appreciate your help, but don’t break anything. We’re already short on equipment after Berlin.”

“This weighs as much as I do,” you countered, straightening and immediately supporting your back with your hands as the bones somewhere cracked. You weren’t built for this. “And it’s metal. It’d break me before I could break it. Is this spot okay?”

“It’s fine. Could you bring out the mic stand, too, please? Thanks so much,” he said, and before you could react, he returned to his call. “I’m here. Yes. Mmhmm.”

Sighing as you attempted to stretch, you climbed up the stage steps and picked the microphone stand up from the nook by the exit to the changing area.

“Need some help?” a voice asked from the darkness behind you. You jumped so violently that you nearly tossed the stand in the direction the sound was coming from.

“Jesus,” you wheezed, clutching your chest as Jungkook came into the light from the hallway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and, not waiting for your response, took the stand from you and carried it to the middle of the stage.

“Thanks,” you said, watching him while you recovered. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“No problem,” he replied, lifting the stand to his height before placing it where he personally saw fit.

Seokjin could hardly complain—Jungkook was going to be the one who used the microphone, after all—and yet, as soon as he ended the call and turned around, he groaned loudly.

“No! Do you have any concept of what the middle of the stage is?” he yelled, approaching Jungkook, clearly determined to do this himself.

“I just thought it’d be better if—”

“It would not be better if,” Seokjin cut him off, climbing up the steps and grabbing the stand from him to place it in the right spot. “If it’s slightly to the left, then you’ll be knocking into Yoongi every time you lean back. If it’s to the right, then the same thing with Taehyung. Don’t even get me started on the stand being too far back, so you could successfully trip and fall into Hoseok’s drum set.”

Jungkook glanced at you—you closed your eyes and nodded, confirming that this lecture was a normal process of working with Seokjin—then looked back at the stage manager.

“I’m a real safety hazard in your eyes, aren’t I?” he joked.

“You are,” Seokjin replied completely seriously. Jungkook did a double-take as he’d already begun to turn to you again—to check if his little joke made you smile; it did. “Go now! It’s bad luck for the artist to see the stage before the concert.”

You snorted at this, while Jungkook frowned, confused by the logic—he was, technically, going to see the stage during the soundcheck—but he chose not to argue as he joined you at the back of the stage while Seokjin busied himself with repositioning the speakers at the front.

“Is he always like this?” Jungkook asked you in a concerned whisper as he glanced back over his shoulder. “I think I’ve only ever seen him laughing. This is a first for me.”

“Yeah, he’s stressed,” you explained. “Lots of back-to-back shows and all of the venues seem to have something wrong with them. At least, according to his standards.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “What else can I do to help?”

You lifted your eyebrows at this, genuinely worried that he was entering a new stage of masochism. “Are you kidding? Get out of here while he’s not looking.”

“No, I can—I can help,” he said despite his confidence faltering at your words. Perhaps he really should really have been running for his life.

“No, you can’t,” you retorted, placing a hand on his shoulder as you guided him towards the hallway. “You still have to perform later tonight. I’ll help; you rest.”

Jungkook stopped walking and turned around—you didn’t react quickly enough and your hand brushed over his chest as you pulled it away, the tips of your fingers catching on the soft material of his corduroy jacket.

“Well, he’s not looking right now,” he said, peeking at Seokjin again. “Let’s both go.”

You shook your head. The moment had suddenly become so melodramatic, your next line should have been, ‘it’s too late for me, go on without me.’

Simply, you disagreed, “I can’t—”

“Just for a quick break,” he cut you off, an almost pleading tone in his voice. He took your hand—or tried to, but ended up grabbing your wrist—as he pulled you after him into the dark hallway, towards the changing room. “You deserve it.”

Despite being unable to resist—he wasn’t very rough, but he was very determined not to let you out of his grip—you still tried to protest, “you don’t know that.”

“I know you and I know you deserve that,” he shot back and opened the door into the inner hallway, waiting for you to go in and, after you paused, encouraging, “come on.”

You relented with an uncertain sigh as you walked through the door.

The two of you entered Rated Riot’s changing room—currently empty because everyone else was out in the city—and you were surprised to feel relieved to be here alone.

You’d been working ever since you reached the city over three hours ago, save for a little break when you went to grab some coffee from the deli across the street right after you arrived. You hadn’t even realised how tired and hungry you were now.

“Should we order some food, then?” you asked. “I thought you left with the rest of the guys, so I didn’t plan any meals at the venue.”

“Actually,” Jungkook said, grabbing his phone from where he’d left it on the make-up table, “why don’t we go out to eat? I saw a fast-food place across the street.”

You’d seen it too when you were getting drinks, but you weren’t sure if leaving right now was a good idea—you were here so you could help the crew, after all.

Then again, this was just lunch – you’d be back in an hour, maybe even less. The soundcheck wouldn’t begin until two hours later, so the rest of the team probably wouldn’t be back before then. And it wasn’t like you’d be abandoning the crew, either, since Seokjin had them all under strict control.

“I guess we can do that,” you said, checking the pockets of your oversized leather jacket—there were many of them, and you needed a minute. “I think I left my wallet on the bus, though. We have to stop by there.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “My treat.”

Following the trip to Paris—which was his treat, too, since he’d bought the train tickets with his personal money—you were quick to dismiss this offer.

“I can send you the money from my phone,” you decided, walking back to the door of the changing room. “We can go.”

Jungkook sighed, mumbling under his breath, “impossible to do anything nice for you.”

You turned around, not sure what you’d just heard. “Hmm?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he replied with a quick shake of his head and reached over to hold the door open for you.

“We’ll probably have to sneak past Jin, though. I’m not sure how that’s going to—”

“We’re going out to get food!” Jungkook called out as the two of you walked down the hallway towards the stage. You looked at him in horror. He asked, “anyone want anything?”

“I’m good,” Seokjin replied when he saw you emerge. You paused, ready to stop and explain why you were leaving, but Jungkook took your hand again, pulling you with him down the stage steps.

“Oh—we’ll see you later,” you shouted to Seokjin—who mumbled something and waved in your general direction—and then yanked your hand out of Jungkook’s grip. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“What?” he lifted his eyebrows, surprised by your abrupt hostility. “Offer people to buy them food?”

“You can’t just announce that we’re leaving,” you said as you two made your way towards the exit of the venue. “You may be able to come and go as you please, but I’m not entitled to freedom like that. I have to ask if people are going to be okay while I’m gone.”

“See, but if you ask, then you’re giving them reasons not to be okay,” Jungkook argued. “And if you just say you’re leaving, then they have no choice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Life is so very simple for you.”

“It is,” he replied with a grin as he opened the back door for you. “And, as long as you’re with me, I can make it simple for you, too.”

The fast-food place that you’d both seen turned out to be a small hamburger restaurant. When you and Jungkook entered, it was empty, save for the waiter by the cash register.

He greeted you in Danish and even after your greetings in English, he continued to ask you something in his native language. When you apologised for not understanding, his eyes doubled in size and, he, too, apologised for not realising you weren’t local.

You decided to take this as a compliment. You had felt out of place wherever you went; so very obviously foreign here. Not that anyone minded it, but there was something oddly embarrassing about being a tourist. Even if you were, technically, here for work.

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was nice and calming; mellow instrumental music played on the speakers and large windows faced the beautiful brick buildings across the empty street. Really, putting you in a good mood required almost no effort today, but this restaurant being empty still made your heart soar.

You and Jungkook took seats at a table by the window and hung your jackets on the backs of your chairs. You both took a moment to enjoy the view before you picked up the dark brown paper menus on the table.

There weren’t a lot of options, so you were quick to choose. And, because this was a very small restaurant, you assumed you’d have at least twenty good minutes of taking in the sights outside the window—especially the pair of collies that had escaped their owner and were currently chasing each other down the cobblestone street—before your food would be brought to you. But it reached you mere minutes later.

The burgers looked very appetising, although the portions were bigger than either of you expected; french fries were hanging off your plates.

Like complete tourists, you and Jungkook clinked your burgers together before taking your first bites. You looked at each other immediately once you got the first taste.

“Oh, this is so good,” you whined, your mouth full.

“Right?” Jungkook nodded in eager agreement as he took another bite, frowning deeply and shaking his head as if in disbelief—you knew him well enough to recognise this as a sign of satisfaction. “Easily top ten best burgers I’ve had in my life.”

“Definitely,” you agreed. “And to think there aren’t any people here? I’m in awe.”

“I know, right?” he said again as he continued to chew—far longer than was necessary because he refused to swallow until he gathered enough courage to comment casually enough, “I’m glad I got to try this with you.”

You looked up from your burger. The collies outside had tired and lied down on the pavement, giving their owner enough time to catch his hat in the wind and reach his dogs. You were not sure what the meaningful look in Jungkook’s eyes was supposed to imply.

“Because I know how to do the Heimlich?” you offered.

He blinked at this. He was expecting all sorts of different questions after he said that, but this wasn’t one of them.

“No,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into an involuntary smile. “But that’s a good thing to know.”

“I am also, of course, the expert on burgers,” you guessed then.

“It’s not because of your skills,” he said. “It’s just because it’s you.”

You took another bite and, as you chewed, you picked up a napkin to wipe your lips. You felt very self-conscious suddenly. And you needed a moment—for what, you didn’t know.

The dogs outside refused the leash, jumping around their owner, who cursed in, at least, three different languages; you could hear as much from inside.

“Okay, listen,” you said after a minute, “so, if there was never any ex,” you watched Jungkook cringe softly as you mentioned this, “what is wrong with you?”

The brutality of the question took him off-guard as he coughed in surprise, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What?” he asked through spasms of coughing. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“You’ve been acting weird since the tour started.”

He employed an aura of nonchalance as he countered, “how am I acting weird?”

“Well, for one, you forced me to go to Paris with you,” you reminded him.

“I don’t recall there being any forcing.”

“There was emotional forcing.”

He shook his head with a small roll of his eyes. “Fine. But that doesn’t prove that I’m acting weird.”

“Let’s say that’s true,” you said. “Then why are you here?

Jungkook put his burger down, wiping the crumbs on his hands with a napkin.

“Okay,” he said. “Now what is that supposed to mean? Can’t I be here?”

“Everyone else is sight-seeing,” you explained before the offence in his eyes could deepen. “Taehyung and Luna went to that theme park, and Yoongi and Hoseok tagged along. You know the one I mean.”

“Tivoli,” he said.

“Right,” you nodded. “Even your three musketeers went out. Why didn’t you go anywhere?”

“I’m sure they picked up some girls on their way, so they have enough company.”

You lifted your eyebrows at this; you could recall Sid and Jude chatting up girls at the concert last night in Berlin. “More girls? Your fans weren’t enough?”

Jungkook tsked. “Our fans have better taste.”

Your expression softened.

“Good point,” you said, returning your attention to your food. “Why didn’t you go to Tivoli then?”

“Because you weren’t going,” he replied so quickly, your eyes fluttered back to him.

Another long, heavy moment passed. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way you were tiptoeing on the edges of the topic that you were almost discussing.

“See, that’s weird,” you said as your gaze slid down his chest and then settled on the view outside of the restaurant window.

With the dogs gone, the street was completely empty and, somehow, this emptiness amplified the silence inside of the restaurant. The muzak changed according to the flow of your conversation; you could barely hear the instrumental beat anymore.

Jungkook understood your reasoning—he heard the implication in his own words—and he saw the way you began to avoid his gaze as soon as he admitted that he’d stayed back for you.

But you didn’t just look surprised, you looked almost frightened. Like he’d just told you he was thinking of proposing – either to you, or to this burger.

It shocked him because, while he expected resistance, he wasn’t expecting fear.

His question was genuine after he cleared his throat, “why is that weird?”

“Why would you not go if I’m not going?” you asked, repeating his previous statement with an incredulous scoff—like the very thought of him feeling this way was outrageous and you were astonished he didn’t see that.

Slowly, he shrugged one of his shoulders, afraid to move too much—as if you were a stray deer that had wandered a bit too close to the residential neighbourhood and he was a kid who’d just discovered you; one move that was too quick, and you’d run away in a blind panic.

“Because,” he said as an explanation.

You dared to look at him, encouraged—and angered—by the abrupt end of his sentence. “Because why?”

“I’d rather be here,” he said then.

He did not know how to navigate his way out of this one.

After everything that happened between the two of you in the past few days, you had, clearly, received some sort of signals that he’d been sending you—both consciously, and subconsciously. They weren’t exactly subtle, after all. And yet you were determined to draw your blinds shut and ignore every single one of them.

“Why?” you asked again, your patience wearing thin as you distracted yourself with the french fries.

“God,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. Since he couldn’t just blurt out the truth about his feelings for you—but you looked like he’d just had, and he was horrified all over again—he had to use his favourite tactic of diverting your attention. “Do you need reasons for everything?”

“Not everything, but at least something,” you said. “You’re answering all of my questions with other questions.”

“Why do you even have questions?” he shot back. “Do you not enjoy my company?”

“You’re doing it again!” you accused, your hands rising on their own accord. “Seriously. What’s up? Are you nervous about the tour or something? I thought I made it clear that you could talk to me.”

Oh—this made him pause.

You thought he was doing this—again, what was he doing? Because it stopped seeming like flirting a long time ago—due to anxiety. You thought he was being evasive, and, therefore, weird around you.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could make this work in his favour and avoid lying at the same time.

“I just want to spend time with you,” he ended up saying, which was true. And because you kept your eyes on him after he said this, he felt confident enough to add, “we used to be close. I-I’d like that again.”

At that point, he thought he’d understand if you would get up and leave. He wasn’t sure if he would have followed; he didn’t think he had that right, not after he didn’t follow you the first time you left him. But you looked down to your plate and picked up another french fry, toying with it between your fingers.

He hadn’t proposed anything particularly awful—although he avoided saying ‘friends’ with such intensity that it only magnified the deeper implication of the word—yet he felt like a death row prisoner waiting to hear the date of his execution.

“Why now?” you asked, finally putting the fry in your mouth and biting into it.

The wait for your response had been excruciating. He needed to make you see that this was not a big deal.

“Why not?” he replied, his voice a tad too casual, showing just how hard he was trying to appear calm, to conceal the overtime his heart was working in his chest. “We’re on tour, so we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

That sounded good in his head. But you looked at him in such a way that he thought he was about to hear that, despite overwhelming evidence in his favour, he was still going to be hanged in the town square.

“And after the tour ends?” you asked, setting the gallows up for him.

He thought about this for a moment and attempted to return to his usual nonchalance despite feeling sweaty all over.

“That’s not until two months later,” he said and realised, immediately, that this was the wrong answer.

He didn’t have enough time to correct himself before you scoffed again and asked, “so, why bother with a friendship if it won’t matter in two months?”

“That’s not what I wanted to say,” he retorted quickly. “Why would it not matter?”

You were the one who shrugged this time—the answer was obvious. “Did it matter before we came here?”

“It did,” he replied with complete certainty.

You looked away, but he saw the skepticism on your face and the way you hyper-focused on the street outside so as not to roll your eyes. “Oh, okay.”

“It did matter.”

Frowning at the offence in his voice, you returned your gaze to his face, trying to find the answers to the questions in your head. Especially this one: how could your relationship have mattered to him before the tour started?

“I don’t know what kind of a friendship you have with Sid and The Losers,” you said, “but in my experience, being friends with someone implies making an effort for them.”

“I was making an effort,” he continued to insist.

“Making an effort to get us both in trouble with the label.”

He knew that this was how you saw it—you were very clear about that each time he and his friends somehow managed to find themselves in an emergency—but he still didn’t think you were being fair.

“I always let you know where I am at the start of the night,” he defended.

“And I appreciate that—”

“Not just to inform you,” he continued. “It was always an open invitation.”

You brought your tongue over your lips as your eyes returned to your plate. You grabbed another fry, focusing on the salt on your tongue for a second.

The bell by the door rang, signalling the entrance of a new customer.

Nor you, nor Jungkook turned to look, feeling like your table by the window of the restaurant existed on a different plane of reality—a vacuum of sorts where only the two of you lived.

You could remember one instance when you had gotten the feeling—after one of Jungkook’s late-night texts with his location—that he’d sent it to you because he was subtly asking you to join him. You thought you had misunderstood.

You didn’t know how to feel now that you knew you hadn’t.

“I’m not asking to provoke you or to start an argument,” you spoke up, “but do you think that’s appropriate?”

That wasn’t a very good question, knowing that Jungkook was very liberal when it came to seeing things as appropriate—and he shrugged as soon as you asked this.

“Spending time outside of work?” he clarified. You nodded. He shrugged once more. “You hang out with Luna and Taehyung all the time. And Maggie. Why would it be different for us?”

It was a hilariously stupid question and you both knew it.

Keeping your eyes on his, you deadpanned, “right. Why would it?”

He fought back with just as much irony as he said, heated, “yeah. Exactly.”

Your gazes remained locked until your phone buzzed a few seconds later, the sound dull as it reverberated against the material of your jacket.

You twisted in your seat to get the device out of the pocket. While you did, Jungkook took another bite of his burger.

It was a text message from Jimin, who was typing in all caps to let you know that he and Namjoon had just arrived at the venue, and Seokjin—or, in Jimin’s panicked words, ‘SOEKEJIIN’—was in a frenzy so intense, he was either about to faint or force everyone around him to faint.

“It looks like I have to get back to work,” you said, sliding your phone back into the pocket of your jacket as you picked it up from the back of your chair. You missed the disappointment that descended on Jungkook’s face. With a sigh, you added, “I appreciate you trying to be friends with me, but—just—don’t do that because you feel like you have to, since we’re on tour. Or whatever other temporary reason you might—”

“It’s not because of temporary reasons,” he said as you stood up. He turned away when you looked at him, though, not wanting you to see his eyes in case Sid’s game was evident in them. He didn’t lie when he reiterated, “I mean that.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing not to argue even though your next words barely sounded like a compromise, “well, let’s wait and see. Maybe you’ll change your mind. I have to go, but finish your lunch and then I’ll see you after the—”

“I won’t change my mind.”

You paused again. “Okay. Well. You’ll understand why I’m going to need actions to support your words.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” he said. “We were having lunch together. Isn’t that a start?”

Clutching your jacket to yourself as you lingered by the table, you conceded hesitantly, “it’s a start…”

Encouraged by this, he threw his hands in the air before speaking.

“But you’re leaving me all by myself, so it does feel like I’m not getting the same treatment back,” he said, and it took you a second to catch the teasing glimmer in his eye. You’d almost forgotten how quick he was on his feet—which wasn’t always a good thing, because he used this to avoid uncomfortable topics. He questioned, “do you not want to be friends with me?”

You brought your teeth over your lower lip as you looked away. He knew you. He knew the intentional childishness would end up amusing you eventually—and he couldn’t help but feel proud when he saw your shoulders relax as you fought back a smile.

“I’d love to be friends with you,” you said. “And, as your friend, I have to make sure your band has a great performance tonight, so finish your food while I do my job. I’ll see you later.”

“Text me!” he shouted as you put your jacket on, already taking a step towards the door of the restaurant.

You turned back to look at him. “Text you? About what?”

“Anything. It’s what friends do.”

Laughing now, you pulled your phone out of your pocket just as it began to vibrate again.

“Eat,” you told him, “we’ll figure out how to be friends later.”

He nodded in response, even though he didn’t feel hungry anymore. He watched you walk out of the restaurant and run across the street, back to the venue. With a deep exhale, he picked up a fry that had fallen out of the pile on his plate and tossed it into his mouth.

He hadn’t fully grasped how serious you were when you said you didn’t believe in second chances. Perhaps he should have. In all the years that he’d known you, he’d never seen you restore a friendship with someone you’d stopped talking to.

You were the sort of person who stayed until the very last drop of your patience—and then some more. You weren’t someone who left easily, you endured. You had the highest tolerance threshold out of everyone he’d ever met. So, really, it was understandable why you didn’t believe in trying again.

Still, he was arrogant enough to consider himself different. To consider the two of you different.

Really, he had thought things were going well.

Until this moment here, that is. He hadn’t even done or said much today, but you were quick to determine that he had reached the line. And you were not going to let him cross it.

He’d assumed the line had gotten a bit further away. He thought he was allowed to say more to you, to be more personal about your relationship after your trip to Paris—the trip was fine, after all! You’d both had fun. But, now he was starting to think that, perhaps, the reason why the Paris trip went well was because, initially, you went on it thinking he had an ex that he wanted to get back together with.

You had thought you were, on some level, still doing your job—whether as his manager, or someone who’s known him for almost ten years now. Just having his back. Keeping him out of trouble.

You’d always been doing that, for as long as he could remember. You never even considered—he never made you consider—that there was more to it.

He knew now that he had thought about this all wrong. You assumed that he was joking around, participating in Sid’s pranks, not taking anything—not even you—seriously. And you were right, of course, but only in part.

Step One would be proving to you that he was serious.

Maybe you never believed in second chances because you were never shown that people deserved them. And he was determined to show you that he deserved it. To convince you that the two of you could be close again—so long as he could look past the bet and convince himself first.

After Rated Riot’s performance that night—which went by smoothly, of course, even though Yoongi tripped over a loose cable and forced Seokjin to spend the entirety of the encore cursing quietly under his breath—the members followed the tradition of going out to meet the fans. Meanwhile, you insisted on supervising the deconstruction of the stage, wanting—rather desperately—to avoid incidents similar to Berlin.

To be fair, calling it supervision was generous; all you did was repeatedly remind everyone to “take it slow” while taping boxes and holding doors. The roadies seemed to appreciate your input this time, although you couldn’t shake the feeling that these middle-aged men still only saw you as an eager six-year-old, who passionately wanted to be helpful.

You decided you were going to take it. At least, you were here and could witness all that was happening.

Eventually, you noticed that Seokjin had disappeared. You weren’t very concerned; he had so many things to look after that you figured there simply had to be something else that required his attention.

But here’s the thing about Seokjin – he was demanding, but he was also very caring. A manifestation of this was the plastic bowl, filled to the brim with lollipops, that he brought backstage when he returned fifteen minutes later.

“Here,” he announced. “I think we can all use this. Make sure all of you take some—but no more than five, so everyone has enough.”

You chuckled, assuming that this was more for a boost of morale than anything else, but you were soon surprised. It was almost funny, truly, how quickly every adult in the room leapt to the lollipop bowl.

Seokjin, in the meantime, made his way towards you. Three bright green, apple-flavoured lollipops were in his hand, and he pointed them at you.

“Hey,” he said. “This is for making you haul heavy things around the venue earlier.”

“That’s my job,” you replied, but took the suckers from him nonetheless. Apple was your favourite flavour.

“It’s not, though,” he disagreed. “You were here because you felt bad. You shouldn’t feel bad. What happened before was not your fault.”

Your smile was grateful and you reminded him, “it’s not yours, either.”

“I know that.” He exhaled somewhat sadly before continuing, “but that’s not as easy for me to say. The battens fell in Berlin, because the scissor lift got stuck on some middle setting, and the staff couldn’t reach properly. They had to unscrew the construction with their hands raised above their heads. I told them not to, but they insisted we were short on time. And I let them do it.”

You sighed, too. “If the schedule wasn’t so intense—”

“They would have probably still done it this way,” Seokjin finished. “They didn’t think anything would go wrong. That was just an excuse to get it over with faster.”

You’d heard a similar explanation yesterday when you were first called up after the incident – “we wanted to do this as fast as possible.”

Trying to brighten the mood, you said, “at least no one got hurt. And I’m sure it’s a lesson learned in any case.”

“It is. Because now you’re here, watching everything like a hawk,” he noted.

This surprised you—and Seokjin grinned at your raised eyebrows.

“It’s not like I can fire them if more things break,” you said.

“That’s the worst part,” he countered. He still had an entertained expression on his face, but something inside of him had softened. It was endearing how unaware you were of how much the staff here cared about you. He said, “they saw how distressed you were last night.”

You were still confused about the magnitude of your role here—the backstage crew didn’t respond directly to you. To be fair, even certain members of Rated Riot didn’t, even though they should have.

“Everyone who was here was distressed,” you said.

“True,” Seokjin nodded, “but they should have been; this was their job, and something went wrong. Meanwhile, your stress is just, sort of, collateral damage. They felt bad for upsetting you.”

You looked back at the staff behind you. Seeing these men—some large and scruffy, others tall and lanky, all of them intimidating in certain lighting—dismantle the stage construction while sucking on lollipops brought a smile to your face.

“I’m a little kid in their eyes,” you said then, “aren’t I?”

Seokjin had to be honest: despite his attempts to always be respectful, he, too, sometimes thought you were too young for the responsibilities of your job. You never proved him right, however, breezing through said responsibilities with an ease that he wouldn’t have expected from someone your age—he admired that.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted.

You snorted, but there were shadows of disappointment on your features that he was quick to notice. Sometimes you wondered if Seokjin had chosen stage management as an alternative to psychology.

“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “most of the people here treated me like a kid when we first met, too. And I’m older than some of the roadies. I guess I look very young.”

“What’d you do to make them respect you?” you asked.

“I started yelling.”

This got you to laugh. “Should I consider it?”

“I think that, sometimes, you should,” he replied. “They say that people shout when they don’t know enough words to whisper—or something like that—but I think differently. I think they shout because they care and they need others to care.”

“Hmm,” you turned your gaze away as various disagreements and full-blown arguments that you’d had in your life—most of them with the same person—flashed through your mind. “That… makes sense, I think.”

“Yeah, and besides,” Seokjin said, “yelling is fun. People pay attention to you. Sometimes they even fear you. I love it.”

You laughed again, even though you’d seen it yourself – new staff members tended to avoid Seokjin. Even you didn’t want to get in his way when he was setting the stage up.

But all of that was so he would get things done. And, once he did, he was easily the most entertaining person to be around—which meant a lot, considering you were literally on tour with rock artists right now.

“Maybe you should get on stage with Rated Riot one of these nights,” you teased, “that might satisfy your itch to be listened to.”

“You know what? I just might,” he played along, a grin spreading on his lips. Nodding at the candy in your hand, he said, “try the lollipops. We’re almost done here anyway.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Really. We wouldn’t be on tour if it weren’t for you.”

“There’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’,” he responded brightly. Then, he leaned closer to add in a teasing whisper, “but there is in ‘ass-kissing’.”

Your eyes widened as he snickered, pulling back and walking past you to help the crew carry the boxes outside. He looked at you over his shoulder, his expression cheerful.

“I meant what I said, you know!” you shouted after him.

“I know,” he called back. “I meant it, too. Go rest! This isn’t your responsibility.”

He picked up a box, propped it on his hip, and walked away before you could argue and offer your assistance anyway.

Figuring you might as well go and actually stop working for the day, you unwrapped one of the lollipops and made your way outside. The band was probably still having post-show drinks backstage, so you figured you could get a few minutes of quiet on the bus before everyone else returned.

Just as you exited the venue, however, you saw a white puff of smoke coming from somewhere on the side of the building. Popping the lollipop in your mouth, you stopped and waited for just a second, until the person bent down to shake the ash off the cigarette, and you recognized Jungkook’s profile.

Your legs brought you over to him before your mind could reconsider.

Rounding the corner, you asked, “should you be doing this?”

He flinched, not having expected you here, and it got you to smile. The two of you had a special way of sneaking up on each other today.

“Probably not,” he said, blowing smoke out. “Bad for my lungs, right?"

“So I hear.”

This was the first time the two of you were alone together, following the interrupted lunch earlier. Jungkook had wondered what it would be like now that he’d made his intentions clear—as clear as he could under the circumstances, at least. Now that he’d brought up the possibility of a friendship.

He had worried it would be weird or awkward. That he wouldn’t know how to prove himself to you, wouldn’t know what to say, or worse, that he would, but you would respond in the same cold, detached way as you had the first time in the restaurant.

But now that you were here, he didn’t feel different. He didn’t feel like he’d dropped a ground-breaking revelation—he knew he hadn’t, but your reaction begged otherwise—and he didn’t feel awkward.

He felt, he realised, like he’d been waiting for you to find him here. Like he knew you’d come, taking him off guard, appearing next to him from the shadows of the late night.

Taking another drag, he extended the cigarette towards you. Smoke passed his lips as he spoke, “want some?”

Hesitating for a moment, you gave your lollipop one last twirl against your tongue before you pulled it out of your mouth.

As you took the cigarette from him and placed it between your lips, you pointed the sucker at him and echoed, half-jokingly, “want some?”

He chuckled at this, but took the lollipop from you. Your question was a challenge—you asked because you didn’t think he’d agree—and he took you up on it immediately, putting the candy in his mouth.

You watched him toy with it, biting into the plastic stick lightly, and something seemed to short wire inside of you, shooting dangerous sparks in every which way. You wondered, for a passing moment, if your conversation at lunch could have triggered something long-forgotten inside of you, like the trip to Paris had.

When Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, the smoke you were supposed to exhale got caught in your throat.

Sighing deeply, he spoke, “haven’t done that in a while.”

Tilting your head to blow smoke out in a clumsy cough, you asked, “s-sucked on a lollipop? Or smoked?”

Twisting the sucker around his mouth for more flavour—aware, with every taste receptor on his tongue, that this was your taste—he replied, “shared a cigarette. Or candy.”

“Me neither.”

You took another drag and gave the cigarette back to him. He took it from you, his movements slow, and, in turn, he pulled out the lollipop, extending it back to you.

You were the one who snickered this time as you retrieved it, and, without any reluctance, put it back in your mouth. He forgot what breathing was and how it worked right after.

He wondered, his gaze frozen on your face, what the cigarettes and apple-flavoured lollipops tasted like on your lips. He wanted to find out, wanted to replace the candy in your mouth with his own tongue, wanted to—

He was forced to look away as the lit cigarette stung the tips of his fingers, ashes falling on his boots.

He shook it off and forced his eyes to stay on the ground beneath his feet.

“So,” you spoke, tapping the edge of the lollipop stick. “You ready to go back? The crew just finished up. If you hurry, you might still grab a few drinks backstage before it’s all gone.”

“I’d, uh…” his eyes were cast low. As soon as he put the cigarette back against his lips, he thought he’d begun to hallucinate—because, realistically, he shouldn’t have recognised the taste of your lip gloss, mixed with a faint taste of apples on the filter. Coughing, he stuttered, “I-I’d rather, um, stay here, actually.”

Suddenly awkward, you realised he may have been looking for a quiet minute by himself just as you had been, before you saw him. “Oh. I’m sorry I interrupted. I can—”

“No,” he stopped you. “I meant with you.”

You watched him exhale smoke and wondered, unexpectedly, what it meant for you if you craved a cigarette more than a lollipop. You never thought you had a nicotine addiction; really, you barely smoked.

Perhaps this was something different. A sort of latent chronic disease that you couldn’t shake no matter how much you tried—and you spent four years trying.

“Really?” you asked now, your chest light and your eyes glistening—in a dangerous, promising way. “Hiding behind a corner, sharing a cigarette like pre-teen delinquents?”

His eyes met yours as he took another drag. “Just the way I like it.”

“Alright,” you said, leaning your side against the wall next to him. You twirled the lollipop around in your mouth and he could almost feel the remaining ounces of restraint leave his body. “Let’s stay here, then.”

You were playing around, but there was a seriousness behind your words. You didn’t question him. You just stayed.

And he had to look away from you again.

He didn’t really understand why; this was so childish. He played along with your delinquent joke, but he wasn’t actually twelve—even if being with you did make him feel like a sixth-grader, discovering what having a crush was like for the first time.

“Tell you what,” he said, turning to his side to look at you. He lifted the cigarette; there was barely any of it left. “You can finish this off in exchange for the lollipop.”

You grinned. “Yeah? You liked the apple taste?”

You knew, he suspected. You had to know what you were doing to him; there was no way you wouldn’t notice how pathetically affected he was. All of Copenhagen could probably hear a faint thundering that came from inside of his chest.

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Something like that.”

“Okay.” You pulled the lollipop out of your mouth—and did it slowly, only strengthening his suspicion that you were doing this to him on purpose. Still, he felt his heart leap right to his throat and drop down to his feet when your lips pursed. “Although it’s hardly fair, since mine will last longer for you.”

You took his cigarette with your free hand and passed him the lollipop. The very tips of your fingers touched as you exchanged possessions, and, for a moment—which was so laced with electricity that the streetlamps around you seemed to flicker—Jungkook was worried that he wouldn’t manage to control himself, after all. That he would use this gentle, barely-there touch to hold you tighter. To throw the lollipop away, to kiss you, to never let go of you again.

Instead, he took half a step backwards—afraid of his impulses—and popped the candy into his mouth as quickly as he could. As if this way, he’d be less affected by your lingering taste on his tongue.

“Good,” he said. “It’s bad for your lungs, anyway.”

You snorted as you took one final drag before you reached dangerously close to the filter. Blowing smoke out, you leaned down to put the cigarette out against the pavement and walked away from him to throw the remains into the trashcan by the exit.

He opened his eyes to watch you return. You were smiling – not at him, but not away from him, either – and he wasn’t sure what he’d do next. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen—not tonight, not tomorrow, not in two weeks when the bet was supposed to end.

He had suggested a friendship today. He’d promised to himself to prove to you that he was worth it, that the two of you could be close again. That you could be friends.

But he had a pack full of cigarettes in the back pocket of his jeans; both of you could have had one of your own. Yet, he didn’t offer.

And you had two brand new lollipops from Seokjin in the pocket of your jacket. You could have given him one—but you didn’t offer, either.

Both of you chose not to mention this, aware—very vividly—that normal friends probably shouldn’t have enjoyed sharing candy and cigarettes so much.

So, Jungkook didn’t know anything at all. But with you here—as your gaze fell to his lips, he thought the flavour of the lollipop sharpened somehow, bringing shivers down his spine—he was thrilled to find out.

chapter title credits: bring me the horizon, “sleepwalking”

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#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #rockstar jungkook #rockstar bts #jungkook rockstar au #rockstar bts au

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tsublue · 1 year

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Solar return chart + observations

Happy new year!!

Since it’s the new year and the solar return chart changes it’s placements once a year i thought it would be fun to do a post on it!

What is the solar return chart?

The Solar return chart represents and can show you the themes of your life for a year cycle. It changes it’s placements once a year on your birthday and by it you can predict what your fucus might be on this year and guidance.

Placements meaning in the SR chart:

Sun:

It does not ever change it’s placement and will stay the same as your natal sun and degree however i have heard, that the house of the placement can change and it can represent one of the biggest themes for you that year. Plus, it’s really important to look at the aspects your sun can make with others what can show a lot and in more detail.

Moon:

The moon will be representing where your emotions and sensitivity will be at. It can show where ur finding comfort and to what you have a emotional connection to.

Mercury:

What you like talking about, how you talk, what you talk about overall and where your thinking can lean into.

Venus:

How you express yourself, how you will be acting like in all sorts of relationships. What you attract and what you can find pleasure in and your self worth.

Mars:

How you release your energy as in get rid of negative ones and as such, how you can appear in arguments or when frustrated. What you are passionate about and how you act out your passion.

Jupiter:

In what fields you can find luck in. What you want/can explore. Opportunity in the field the sign this planet is placed in and the areas where you can grow the most in that year.

Saturn:

What is limited for you and can cause challenges, where you can get karma from and responsibilities but also where you can work hard in.

Uranus:

What you might wanna do differently this year and switch things up a bit, where you might fee a need or tend to separate yourself from or want to do that alone and being separated from others to do that. Area where you’ll get unexpected changes in.

Neptune:

What you can dream about (not fully in the means of see in your sleep at night, but overall think a lot about.) Where you can be seen as ‘delusional’ and area where you can feel escapism.

Pluto:

What will be transformed in this year and possibly this and other things are transformed. What you can desire, what you have control over and feel powerful in. Something you can find yourself having an obsession on.

Ascendant:

The ascendant is probably the most important placement in the chart. It can show what you will be focusing on that year and the energy that will be with you for the whole year and if the themes of this sign were below the surface before will now be prominent this year.

• It is very important to look at the cusps of the houses.

2nd house being your finances, how you deal with them and your self worth + the way you treat yourself.

3rd house being your siblings.

4th house being your family & the relationship and energy surrounding it.

5th house being joy and where you find happiness in.

6th house being your coworkers and where you can improve yourself.

7th house being relationships and partnerships overall and any kind.

8th house being what you want to know more about as a hidden truth and find the meaning and purpose of that area the sign rules.

9th house being what you want to learn about.

10th house being your image and the ‘career’ you will be focusing on this year.

11th house being your friends.

12th house being the subconscious.

Observations

- Scorpio rising could indicate a glow up and a spiritual awakening.

- Saturn in 7th house could indicate having weaker communication skill and sometimes not getting your point across.

- South Node conjunct Midheaven could mean that you might not succeed in your career as much as previous years and make you have lots stepping stones in that field. If starting, then it will not be a good year to start your career yet.

- Chiron at a cancer degree (4, 16, 28)/house/sign will be indicating, that you get most of your wisdom and knowledge from your home and mostly from women in your family.

- Mars in Aquarius/in Aquarius degree (11, 23)/11th house could mean a passion to be on the internet and if you were get into an argument, it would be public.

- Wherever Scorpio is located in the chart will be the area where you will be more interested in, in a deep dive to the details or interested in the full meaning behind it.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

DO NOT copy, re-word, re-post and etc my post. If you want to use some parts of it, then please ask for permission from the owner and give credits!

I truly hoped y’all enjoyed this post and had an amazing year behind of you.

All love, Tsunami

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blonditarot · 25 days

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I’m here to say one thing

Can we please stop hating on Woojin?

He apologized

It doesn’t matter if he did it 5 years later. It doesn’t matter how much pain he caused to skz and stays (but mostly skz if you’re a stay and cry that someone choose a different course of life that you wanted them to, grow up).

But oh being selfish and young isn’t an excuse

Yes, it is. Not an excuse but it’s an explanation

Woojin is 27 do you think he hasn’t changed a bit? He didn’t become more mature? You may think it’s nothing but when I think of myself from 5 years ago I’m a completely different person now. People change. And young people do mistakes. That’s how we learn. On our mistakes and everybody makes them. Haven’t you done anything when you were young that you regret?

Maybe Woojin learned a lesson and he finally found the courage to apologize. I mean look around what’s going on. People hated on him for not apologizing and people hate on him for apologizing. What if he was just scared? Or went through some enlightening moment, wanted to apologize and move on

And one more thing before somebody here will say „omg but he hurt my bias, I love my bias so I have to stay mad”

Touch some grass. What’s between Stray Kids and Woojin is between Stray Kids and Woojin. Not between Stray Kids, Woojin and you. It’s not a love triangle. They are adults. They don’t need your help to solve their problems. They can regulate their own emotions and feelings (at least that’s what adults are supposed to do). If Stray Kids want to stay mad, good. But focus on supporting Stray Kids, not hating on Woojin.

Because you never know how strong someone is. And even the strongest person can break. One comment too many and there might be no one to hate on because they will call it quits. I can’t do this anymore and they’ll end it. Yes, you, people without emotional maturity and imagination can push Woojin into suicide or depression. And then it won’t be funny or it won’t feel good to shout at him. You won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror. Actually if you hate/bully anyone I hope you already can’t.

And one last thing

Learn to forgive and forget. Because you will be hurt by people but I can guarantee you there will be times when you will be the one that hurts someone. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a year. And then you will be the one begging for forgiveness. And you will be wishing for someone to take your apology. „oh I’d never do anything to hurt someone”. Me neither. But you’re not a saint or a sinner. You’re a human. Being hurt and hurting others is a part of our nature, our lives. It’s inevitable.

Treat others the way you want to be treated. Karma comes back.

#stray kids tarot #stray kids #skz stay #stay #woojin tarot #woojin #kpop tarot #kpop

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bloo-the-dragon · 9 days

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Crippled Canary & the Carrion Crow

A gift for @bitterkarmaa / @sinistershepherd for their Karma's Bitter SAMS au! I had an idea for Rays and KC so i wrote this up rq, hope you enjoy!

(Also on AO3!)

Rays was never one to question his life choices which was a funny thing really, when one took into account his life prior to being here. But then that old life had been all he knew, and had accepted as just being the way it was no matter how cruelly he was treated.

Never occured to Rays that in another world entirely he'd be loved and cared for, looked after and not tormented or thrown about like a ragdoll or a plaything, a toy like that owned by a careless child.

It was a life beyond his imagination, a concept that seemed so alien and so impossible that even whe he found himself stepping onto floors made of soft blue instead of hard golden marble he thought he was dreaming or perhaps he had died and this was the afterlife.

He hadn't believed heaven to be real, but in that fleeting moment he had.

But Rays was going off track here with his thoughts.

Because right now he was standing frozen to the spot in the middle of the lost and found area that lay below the theatre of the pizzaplex he now called home, the sounds of glitching vocalisers and heavy thuds of footsteps ringing loudly in his audio receptors just beyond the doorway.

The scarred yellow animatronic had absolutely no clue what it was. A monster of somekind? He had seen plenty of those. But whatever this was, was unlike anything he had heard before and that scared him even more. And what made it worse was the fact it sounded like there was multiple of them.

His damaged rays twitched in an almost attempt to pull in, but Rays grabbed hold of them to prevent them doing so. Not only did it hurt but he was well aware of the noise they would make and he did not want to draw whatever was outside in here.

And that is where his current questioning of life came in. It was very early morning. Stupidly early really. While Ray's internal clock was all but shot, he had memorised the time anyway so he knew it to be around four in the morning.

He had woken up around three, an hour prior and was unable to go back to sleep. He had considered finding Eclipse and staying with him, but he had bothered him enough as of late and he especially didn't want to disturb him this time knowing full well the dark orange and black animatronic would be asleep this time.

So Rays decided to go and visit the lost and found area. Alone.

It was not the first time. In fact he had memorised the route after Eclipse took him down there a number of times and so he started going by himself. It was scary at first for sure but the route and area had grown familiar now so he felt little fear going down by himself.

Until now that is.

The sounds outside continued, but they started to fade a little as whatever it, they were moved further away. Rays released a skirt he had been holding back into the pile and slowly stood up his mind racing with options on what to do, and it took all his willpower to not simply panic and run as fast as he could back up to the theatre. He had no idea how fast the thing was afterall.

So he waited, and stood very still listening. He was good at that. A learned skill picked up when his old master was in a sour mood. The sounds of metal creaking and glitched vocals combined with the heavy thud thud thud of footsteps were still present but growing more distant.

Finding a spark of courage upon seeing a potential escape slot, Rays very tentatively moved and crept over to the doorway leading out. The door was left partly open still and thankfully made no noise as Rays carefully pushed it open a little more to peek outside.

There was no sign of anything, no monsterous amalgamation, no scary eyes in the dark. He could see not too far away the endo skeletons that hung from their racks limp and unmoving. Rays shuddered at the sight of them. They always unnerved him.

But it seemed he had his timeslot, so he swiftly but silently as he could slipped out of the room, not daring to close the door all the way as to not risk the click of it shutting draw any attention to his location. Instead Rays left it pushed just to, before briskly moving across the room and toward the stairs.

But it only took the smallest movement in the corner of Rays eye accompanied by a loud screech of metal on metal for any and all self control to evaporate from Rays body altogether as the last thread of his nerves finally snapped. He bolted.

This proved to be a mistake as whatever was behind him let out a garbled noise of static and a high pitch shriek that made Ray's head hurt enough to almost make him stop. But he pushed through the pain and continued his desperate dash up the stairs.

However the yellow animatronic had only made it up one flight, before turning and instantly colliding with something big. Rays let out a small yelp and he fell back clutching his face and head with small whine, dazed and sore as the impact flared up old scars.

But he was not given much time to process as whatever he ran into suddenly moved and instantly Rays was back on the adrenaline fueled panic, scrambling back as far as he could before his back hit the wall.

Realising he was trapped, Rays could only stare in horror as the tall being turned toward him, a pair of eerie red eyes staring down at him. For a brief fleeting moment Rays thought that it was Moon, as he noticed a familiar pattern of stars on blue fabric that the being appeared to be clothed in.

Hope flared and Rays almost called out in relief. But it faded as quickly as it came as Rays realised just how off this 'Moon' looked. For one it was far too tall, with a grin that was way too sharp for comfort.

Now Moon had sharp teeth sure, in fact they all did it was a built in feature for all their models to be able to switch between sharp and blunt teeth, but only a few chose to keep them in constant. Bloodmoon and Eclipse were the prime examples.

But this… thing whatever it was did not look normal. The teeth were jagged and crooked, the smile stretched too wide even for a robot. Its arms that hung loosely by its sides were long and gangly with claws at the end of its equally long fingers.

One of its pant legs was ripped too, exposing a hocked leg beneath, and the robotic look of it was the only confirmation Rays got that this was indeed another robot. Or at least it looked like one. For all Rays knew, it could be an eldritch being. And he had seen plenty of those.

But this was nothing like what Rays had seen before, a creature that looked so familiar and yet so horrifyingly different. And he had seen many horrors. Many that on any other day he would say were even scarier than this, but right now this truly was the most terrifying thing Rays had seen in a long time.

The way it looked, and the way it stood… It was like looking at a walking corpse. A zombie.

Staring up at it with full blown eyes, Rays sat frozen on the spot unable to look away. The thing, undead robot, whatever it was, tilted it's head with a small click as it regarded the trembling yellow animatronic before it.

Then it moved, a slight shudder running through its frame as it took a step closer to Rays who like a deer in the headlights remained almost completely still, a faint tremor running through his entire body being the only movement he made.

The creature extended a clawed hand toward him, and Rays instinctively flinched and shut his eyes tightly, awaiting the all too familiar feeling of claws running across his face, digging fresh grooves and reopening the old ones.

But there was no pain. Instead what followed was a surreal but still - albeit more new - familiar feeling of something very gently running across the top of his head, caressing his battered rays. Rays' risked opening a single eye, and then the other because he couldn't really see well with just one.

The moon lookalike had kneeled down with an arm extended and it was… petting him? Rays still terrified looked up at its face, and saw that it looked almost… confused? Unsure? It was hard to tell given the low lighting and the soft glow of the red eyes partially obscuring its features but…

It wasn't hurting him. It was being gentle. Safe? Was it a friend?

Rays shuddered as the nerves eased slightly and he leaned into the gentle touch. He was still scared, and very confused but. It wasn't trying to hurt him. Maybe it was friendly afterall. Eclipse certainly looked scary at times, a lot of the time actually but he was still kind to him, showed him patience. The way this robot petted him was a lot like how Eclipse would too.

The sounds of metal screeching and loud footsteps snapped Rays out of his thoughts and his panic flared up in full once again. He gasped and flinched, the tall robot before him also flinching but not making a sound, other than a sharp snap as its head turned quickly in a full 180 degrees.

The creature released a low gutteral growl and Rays immedietely shrank back, unable to hold back a terrified whimper. The eldritch looking robot seemed to pause, and it turned around to regard Rays for a moment before it's voicebox released an odd noise, a weird warbled chirrup of some kind and it extended both its hands toward him.

Still locked into a state of panic, Rays could only stare helplessly as he found himself scooped up into the large pair of arms and tucked against a large cold chest. Then it moved and Rays experienced the very jarring sensation of being carried, oh wait he was being carried.

Had… had anyone actually carried him before?

A whirlwind of emotion and conflictions swam within Rays, his mind growing exhausted from the panic. But memories from a time long long ago were quickly beginning to surface, having been buried for well over a century.

A distant one, one from perhaps his earliest days of existence came to the front of his addled mind. A young ai stumbling onto the ground, having just been freshly made and still figuring how how to use the body it had been given.

Shaking from the cold marble ground, with so many limbs and digits to control, so much to process. The light around them was so bright it burned their new eyes. They had never seen light before and it hurt. Everyhing had been too much, and so they curled up into a shivering ball wanting it all to stop.

And then. They were lifted from the cold hard ground, a rough but gentle hand running across their head and soft words they could not yet understand but latched onto anyways soothing their overstimulated mind, easing the burden of thought. A darkened chest provided an escape from the burning light, and the warmth driving away the chill that had gripped their new form.

Safe. it.. they… he.. she… was safe.

Rays felt like they were floating, their head filled with soft cotton and pillows that insulated his mind and her body surrounded by warmth. He had never felt so at peace before. He wanted this to last forever.

But the call of the waking land tugged at the edge of his mind, drawing him out from the soft paradise he was in. He let out a soft whine, but a hand on his head gave a small gentle rub followed by a small mumble from someone who sounded like they were still mostly asleep.

Rays cracked open his eyes, finding his face to be resting against a dark coloured side. A glance up confirmed it to be Eclipse who was indeed still asleep, his arm wrapped securely around Rays and holding him close.

Rays blinked, his memory foggy from sleepiness. Where…? Wasn't he in the theatre? Below it? Or was it all a dream? He recalled briefly glowing red eyes, and large gangly claws. But funny enough the memory did not spark any fear. He couldn't recall the face of whoever or whatever it was.

Maybe his sleep addled mind was showing him a weird amalgamation of Bloodmoon and Moon. Certainly bore a striking resemblance to at least one of the two.

Well it didn't matter. Rays was still tired and the warmth and reassurance of not being alone, being safe and secure was lulling him back to sleep. He did not fight it, and instead allowed himself to slip back into the land of soft pillows.

Unseen by the now peacefully sleeping yellow robot and Eclipse who held him secure, a large form slipped quietly out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.

~~~

Author's Note: The endos were up looking for beans. They found one (but papa kc said no beans for you go back to bed)

#Bloo Writes Stuff #fnaf #fnaf security breach #sun and moon show #karma's bitter #sams eclipse #sams sun #sams servant sun #kb eclipse #kb rays

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imnotasuperhero · 1 year

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Look into my eyes (search your soul)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your love for Wanda could make you go the distance and more, just to see her happy.

A/N: I honestly don’t know what this is. Just a needed filler chapter for the final coming up? I should admit I’ve hit a wall that if it wasn’t for @wandabear who slapped me with out of the writers block i don’t know if I’d be able to continue this, lol. I just want to say that tooth-rotting fluff is coming. Hope you enjoy this mess (:

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

Getting out of your car, you couldn’t help the smile growing by the second as your chest inflated with pride.

The house you’ve always wanted was about to be finished. After all the hard work and the re-designs, in just a few more days your forever home would be ready for you to fill with thousands of memories.

“Hi, James!” You greeted your contractor.

“Hi, Miss,” he bowed mockingly.

“Cut the crap, asshole.” You laughed at him.

“What? My salary after this will ricochet. It’s only fair I treat you as royalty.”

“We both know we’ve had bigger projects. Don’t you?” A raised eyebrow accompanied your smirk.

“This was the most challenging, though.” He countered as you both walked through the front door. “Which leads me to-”

“Please, no.” You whined disappointedly, feeling the happiness melting away.

“It’s big,” James informed. “Remember how we were greatly surprised the water pipelines were practically new?”

“I don’t get it. The inspection came out right.” You felt a tug at your heart as you spotted the huge hole in the floor.

“We still have to figure out exactly where the leak is. We’re waiting for the inspectors,”

“How long?” You braced yourself as the anxiety took over.

“To move into the house? Around 7 weeks.”

“The fuck? You know my lease ends in less than 6. Right?” You growled.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Might as well make sure everything is okay so you don’t have to fix it later on.” James reasoned.

Sighing, you just nodded defeatedly. The news about you being homeless even if for a bunch of days only increased the anxiety absorbing the reduced oxygen your lungs needed to function properly.

“Do you know a trusted storing company, by any chance?” You put your hands in the pockets of your jeans, trying to hide the shaking.

“I’ll send you the contact later, yes?” He looked up at you with a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you,” you smiled sadly before making your exit. You didn’t have it in you to inspect the remodeling anymore. Much less to ask about details.

Closing the car’s door harder than you should’ve, your fists collided against the steering wheel repeatedly. To say you were furious was an understatement. It was in times like these that you questioned how much of an asshole you have been in your past lives to be paying such karma.

You see, having to ask for shelter wasn’t something that worried you because you knew your friends would happily take you in. But what upset you was that it happened right when you had not one but two different clients that had requested a 3D model of their projects. And if the chaos your workplace turned into had you moody, you didn’t want to imagine how it’d affect whoever decided to host you.

But before you could dwell too much into your disgrace, your phone took you out of your reverie.

“Yes?” You tried to steady your voice.

“Uhh, troubles in paradise?” You cursed yourself for failing such easy tasks.

“Don’t remind me,” you grunted. “What’s up, Bucks?”

“Everyone is here already. Don’t tell me you forgot?” You could hear the voices of your friends talking in the background.

“Right. I didn’t forget,” you sighed. “I’m on my way, now.”

The way to Natasha’s was spent trying to calm down your anxiety. Today was a day to just enjoy your friends' company and have some good times. There’d be time to worry about your problems later.

But of course, that was better said than done for as you raised your hand to knock on the redhead’s door, your phone started to ring and the name of your most exigent client flashed on the screen.

Inhaling a long breath, you picked up the call. “Good afternoon, Mr. Coleman,”

“Hello, darling. Is there any chance you could send me the design for the guest house?”

“But there are a few details to finish,” you reasoned with the old man as you smiled exasperated to the redhead at the other side of the door.

“I understand, but I’m here with my son and he wants to check it out before you finish it just to get-” You walked inside the apartment, plopping yourself on the three-body couch in the living room, not interested in the explanation the man provided you.

“Alright, Mr. Coleman. I’ll send you the sketch right now.” You bumped your head against the padded backrest of the couch repeatedly at the lack of room to scream. It wouldn’t be very professional of you, after all.

“Thank you, darling. Have a nice weekend.” The old man greeted and you could only answer in the most cheerful voice you could fake before hanging up and leaving a loud grunt.

“I want a sugar mommy,” you whined, earning the laughs of your friends.

“Didn’t peg you for a sugar baby,” Natasha scrunched her nose at the thought.

“Ehh. If the pay is worth it,” you shrugged looking around. “Where are my babies?” you pouted at Wanda.

“They’re with Vision,” the redhead smiled tenderly and you ignored the trembling of your heart.

“Bummer.” You sighed. “Nat? Can I borrow your laptop?” You then turned to the redhead, who was looking at you with a knowing smirk.

“Sure thing,” she pursed her lips trying to keep whatever she was thinking to herself, making it impossible for you to stay glued to the couch.

“Why you looking at me like that?” You questioned the older woman as you followed her to her study.

“Sugar mommy? Really?” Natasha laughed mockingly.

“You know it was just a joke, right?”

“Does Wanda, thought?”

“What does she has to do with that?” You frowned confused.

“Dude, you can’t say those things in front of her. She has it bad for you,”

“Oh, shut up. She doesn’t.” You shook your head as you pressed the keys to access your email.

“I’m telling you, you’re so smart for a lot of things but so dumb when it comes to her.” Natasha walked away, leaving you dumbfounded with her words replaying in your mind.

But there’ll be time to try and decipher her words later. Now, you have to tend to your irritating client.

After what seemed like a few minutes too long of you fumbling with the touchpad, you clicked on the ‘send’ button and logged out of your account, turning off the laptop in the process.

The way Natasha's eyes were set on you despite having her girlfriend by her side made Wanda's blood boil with jealousy. Even more so at the way you were fidgeting as you kept stealing glances at her. The secrecy of it all had Wanda's fingers itching to pat the redhead’s smirk away.

Truth be told, it's been a few days since Natasha had taken her place in your life. Granted, you still visited each other frequently like you used to. But most times than not, Natasha was present when Wanda visited you. And even though Wanda knew the redhead’s heart belonged to Maria, she couldn’t help the greeny monster taking over her.

"So, how's the house going?" Wanda's attention picked up at those words, turning her gaze to you.

"Painfully slowly going." You whined, chewing the bite you just took.

"I thought it was almost done?" Bucky asked.

Sighing, you positioned yourself with your back against the armrest of the sofa and Wanda couldn’t help the soft caress in her heart at seeing you so relaxed if it wasn't for the frown on your face.

"James found a leak in the water pipeline and it'll take longer for me to move in, so now I'll be homeless when my leash ends next month," you sighed looking down at your hands and Wanda's words stuck in her throat as Natasha beat her to it.

"That sucks. But you know you can stay with me for whatever long it takes. Right?" The redhead offered.

"And have Maria having a meltdown?"

"Hey! I'm not that bad." The brunette complained.

"Who are you kidding? I can tell you the times you scolded me for being so careless when you saw me working," you chuckled heartily and Wanda couldn’t help giggling at the image playing in her mind.

"In my defense, it looks like a tornado passed by after you finish it." She shrugged.

Wanda didn't get to understand your retort as she was taken to the past, when she had stayed -multiple times- with you as you worked through the night building rooms and molding different miniatures of furniture out of cardboard and wood sticks as you created the mock-up of the design you were working on. Feeling the calm taking over her as she got to see you so at ease into your element even though it left you crying sometimes. The way you always patiently instructed her how to cut or glue the small objects had her heart skipping a beat when your hands would brush against each other. The calloused yet soft skin of your fingertips against hers had shivers running down her spine.

The pang against her side had her back to the present as she looked at her brother, frowning when Pietro’s eyes were moving weirdly.

Raising an eyebrow, Wanda silently asked him what his problem was, only for him to signal at you with his blue eyes.

But even though they shared a special bond thanks to being twins, sometimes it took more than a look to communicate.

And Pietro seemed to think the same as he sighed before he spoke. "Why don’t you stay with us?" Wanda's head tilted to the side as if her brother had grown a second head.

"Not sure it'd be ideal, Piet. With the twins and Wanda working from home, I don't want to impose," you nodded in the negative. Wanda's brain was trying to catch up with whatever was happening.

"Pretty sure Wanda wouldn’t mind. Right?" Wanda had to muffle a grunt as yet another finger poked at her side. Looking back at his brother, she saw him gesturing to agree with him.

"Of course not," Wanda tried to give the most convincing smile she could muster. "Lord knows I could have another adult by my side to try to understand the twins' babbling,"

"We'll see. I still have a few weeks to solve it." You shrugged it off, signaling the end of the discussion; leaving Wanda thinking about the prospect of you living in her house even if just for a few days and she’d be lying if the idea didn’t get her heart somersaulting.

The upcoming weeks we spent between you working nonstop trying to finish as much of your projects as you could just so you didn’t turn Wanda’s house into a mess with your supplies and boxing whatever you didn’t need for the time coming as your possessions along with your furniture would be sent to the storage facility James had recommended you.

“I finished with the kitchen,” Natasha spoke, walking into your room.

“Thank you,” you eyed her sitting on your bed, her green eyes looking at you expectantly. “Can I help you?”

“Maybe.” The redhead pursed her lips, obliging you to release a grunt as you busied yourself packing your clothes. “I need you to answer me something.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you took a ripped jeans from the pile you had decided would go to the storage, folding it neatly before you put it in the box.

“I’ve been thinking,” Natasha paused and it took all the patience you had just to swallow your growl. “What if you and Wanda get together? Where would you live?”

Her words had you turning your head so fast that you felt dizzy for a few seconds. “Where do you get that idea from?” You frowned as the redhead groaned painfully.

“I swear to God, you’re so dense, Y/N!” Natasha rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

“I'm not. It’s just-” You paused trying to organize your thoughts, too afraid to misunderstand the signals both your friends and Wanda constantly gave you.

“I don’t want to hurt,” you sighed defeatedly. “If she really felt something for me, she wouldn’t have rejected me for prom night.”

“We were kids back then,” the redhead took a seat beside you on the floor, taking the crumpled shirt off your hands. “She was afraid,” Natasha took your hands in hers, squeezing them.

“Afraid of what?” You felt your heart cracking at that confession. Why would Wanda ever be scared of you?

“That’s something you have to ask her,” Natasha spoke softly, almost pitifully. “But what I can tell you is that you just have to open your heart in order to see,”

But before you could voice your feelings any further, the ringing of your doorbell had the redhead walking to greet your friends, ready to help you with the moving.

After having loaded all your furniture and boxes into the haul truck Bucky had managed to borrow from a friend, you both drove alongside Steve to the storage place while Natasha and Maria drove to Wanda’s with your baggage.

“I think we deserve a nice dinner as a welcome.” The blonde spoke, gaining your attention.

“It’d need more than a dinner to thank you, guys. You’re literal live savers,” you smiled truthfully.

“Ehh. It’s nothing, dude.” Bucky shrugged you off with his eyes glued to the road. “But you need to keep us updated.”

“With what?” You frowned at his words.

“With Wanda, you dummy,” Steve giggled.

“Not you too,” you whined, throwing your head back.

“What? We deserve the dits as your best men,” Bucky smiled toothily and you didn’t have it in you to break his heart.

“Can we not go there? It’s not like we’re moving in together,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yet. You’re not moving together, yet.” Steve corrected and your hand itched to lovely pat their faces.

To say the rest of the afternoon was full of mockery and laughs was an understatement. You barely had time to spend with the boys as adulthood had you all pretty busy, so you tried to make it the best of the day as all three of you worked together to put your belongings into safety.

Once you reached the house that would shelter you for the next ten days, you couldn’t help the sweat forming in your palms and the feeling of utter uncertainty at the prospect of breathing the same air as Wanda’s twenty-four-seven.

Natasha’s words from earlier did nothing to placate the anxiety tugging at your heart.

“Thanks for having me,” you smiled something crooked at the redhead on the other side of the door.

“It’s nothing,” she smiled toothily and you couldn't help your heart skipping a beat at the shine you saw in those green eyes. “Hope you don’t mind that I cooked pasta?” Wanda scrunched her nose in that way it had you all mushy over the floor.

“As if you didn’t know me,” you rolled your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from your host.

“Where are my sunshines?” You walked further into the house looking for the twins, wanting to escape the uncomfortable silence that had settled between you both just a second ago.

While time ago you’d be more than happy to spend unlimited time with Wanda, now it was only anxiety what you felt as you wandered into the very-well known house as your inner fears slowly manifested themselves, making it hard for you to feel at ease in what you once considered your second home. Too afraid to face the reality you dreaded to recognize laying at the back of your mind.

As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated (:

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dalchiid · 1 year

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 21

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,405

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 21 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession

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Time passes you by as you and Namjoon talk more in the library. You learn that he loves nature and has several plants in his room. When you told him how you loved to do gardening back at your old home he was surprised but intrigued. He asked you what your favorite plant was and you told him it was the Dahlia Karma Choc. He said they didn't have that in their garden but he can always check with the gardening team to have it planted for you. You told him that was too generous of him and that he didn't need to go so far for you but he insisted that it was okay. He also told you he doesn't know how to drive and rides his bike whenever he's given the chance. You told him you don't know how to drive either nor do you know how to ride a bike. He said he'll teach you some day. He also learned of your life with the Baeks. You didn't tell him everything but he now knows how Hoseok came into your life and slowly ripped you from your formal home. He gives you a pitying look and apologizes on his brother's behalf.

You enjoy his company as he does yours and sooner rather than later it starts to grow late. At some point Namjoon checks his phone and realizes the time. Dinner would be served soon and the news shocks you. You wasted so much time conversing with the vampire before you that you did nothing in regards to your earlier plans of checking your bank account. You berate yourself internally over having wasted your time but did you really feel that way? Did you really feel like you wasted your time? A part of you says yes but another part says no. You did enjoy talking with Namjoon and he seemed to enjoy himself as well. At times the man would smile when you spoke like he was truly interested in what you had to say. It felt refreshing after dealing with his other brothers who seemed indifferent about you save for Jimin. But Jimin didn't seem interested in you the way Namjoon is so it felt nice you had to admit.

Though you've only gotten to know him for these short hours you felt yourself warming up to him. A part of you still had your guard up because in truth he is your captor's brother and you weren't sure what he may or may not relay back to Hoseok, but for the most part you felt comfortable you could say. You felt somewhat relieved. To have an ear to hear you out when you mostly felt like you were talking to an impenetrable wall with his brother. He made you feel okay after walking on eggshells to avoid problems. Made you feel human when you were turned into something more by a sickly passionate monster with a vice. You don't voice any of these feelings out loud of course and if Namjoon notices you still have a wall up he doesn't say. He is just treating you how you would like to be treated and vice versa.

He laughs a little to himself and you ask him what was it.

"Nothing it's just I normally don't talk so much yet with you I feel like there was so much I wanted to say."

You give him a tight lipped smile that threatens to open up and show your teeth. "I feel the same way."

His eyes seem to glisten under the ceiling lights at your admission. "Good to know."

You hum. "Thank you."

Namjoon's whole body perks up at this. "What for?"

"For being nice to me." The air around you two begins to grow serious the more you talk. "I wasn't expecting to find someone like you after having dealt with your brothers. Especially Hoseok." You look down at your hands that are on the table before looking up at him worried. "No offense. I mean..."

"No you're fine," he chuckles. "I know what you mean and I hear you. I'm sorry about them. About him."

Silence engulfs the two of you as you think on his apology. It doesn't feel awkward though. He seems to be in deep thought as well before he parts his lips to speak.

"Do you," he pauses as he thinks some more with a hum. "Do you ever plan on leaving? On running away?"

It's then your heart beats painfully against your chest. Could you - would you tell him the truth? Though he's been nothing but kind to you you have to remember that he is Hoseok's brother. Your mind goes back to the picture Hoseok showed you of the two of them as kids. You think on how Hoseok said he trusts in Namjoon. Brothers who are very much close.

You hesitate to answer as your eyes dart around anywhere that isn't Namjoon. Your hands come to clasp one another as you wring them a little. You have to give an answer but you couldn't say the truth. Not now and possibly not ever.

"I uh - I don't know," is all you can say.

Namjoon hums. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to. If not just know I'll be here for you. To hear you out. I know we just met but everyone deserves to be heard. You especially."

Your eyes draw up to him. He was too kind to you and you appreciate him. When back at the Baeks you had Sunmi and here you could possibly have Namjoon. The thought makes you smile and he mirrors it with one of his own.

"So," he says after a moment. "What are your plans after dinner?"

Your brows raise a little as you think. "I don't know, honestly."

"If he's been diligent - Hoseok might be all caught up with work. Emphasis on might."

You hum but it isn't a pleasant one. Namjoon catches on to it and it makes him laugh a little.

"Guess you wouldn't want to spend time with him."

"What gives you that idea?" You're clearly being sarcastic and this time Namjoon laughs out loud.

"Sorry if it seems like I'm laughing at your expense. I don't mean it that way."

You wave your hand in dismissal. "No, I know. You don't have to worry."

His smile is warm as he throws it your way. It ignites something unspeakable within you and you decide to keep it that way - unknown to you. Sometimes some things are better left undisclosed to oneself.

Namjoon sits up straight in his seat and gives you an expectant look. "Should we go and meet everyone in the dining room?"

You're hesitant as you bite your lip. It's a look clear on your face and Namjoon takes note of it.

"We can always come back here afterwards."

He's right, you know. You're not entirely alone anymore or at least you hope that you're not. So it's with a resolute nod do you go to stand with Namjoon following right after you.

You know you have to check your bank account. The reminder playing over and over in your head. You decided you'll check it after dinner. You hope Hoseok will be busy so that it will give you time. For now though you'll be stuck with him and his brothers.

Namjoon leads you out of the library and you walk side by side. His hands are clasped behind him while yours are crossed in front of you. You're not feeling as defensive around him and you figure he notices because he doesn't appear tense in your presence. It's nice like this until you make yourselves known in the dining area where his brothers are already piling in. Everyone except Seokjin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are present. Jimin is leaning his arm on Jungkook's shoulder as he talks. Taehyung looks up your way and his lips part slightly as he eyes you two. Jimin's smile falters for a moment before it returns - blinding with enthusiasm.

"Y/N! It's unusual to see you without my brother. Where is he anyway?"

Namjoon pulls out your chair for you and it forces your cheeks to grow warm. You're about to tell him that that wasn't necessary of him but his wink shuts you up. Instead, a warm smile replaces your once parted lips.

Jimin looks between you two as his face drops. He doesn't know what he's seeing but it's enough to catch him by surprise. He looks at Taehyung whose expression stays carefully neutral while Jungkook looks just the slightest bit interested. Just the slightest. When his eyes go back to you he smiles before leaning his elbow onto the table and placing his chin onto the palm of his hand.

"So," he starts. "What's this?"

A servant pulls out Namjoon's chair across from you for him so he can sit.

"What's what?" Namjoon asks.

Jimin squints his eyes as he stares at his brother. "I think you know."

You try to ignore him as Taehyung's eyes bore into you. It's like fire courses through you beneath his gaze because you're growing warmer by the second.

Jimin leans back into his seat as he hums. "It seems the two of you have grown... close."

Namjoon makes an "Ah" sound as if he didn't know what his brother was referring to before. "I was just showing her around. Keeping her company until Hoseok and her reunite."

Call for the devil and he sha'll come because in enters the remaining three brothers of the clan. Hoseok smiles when he sees you and nearly rushes the servant to hurry and pull his chair out so he can sit by you. As soon as he's sat he wraps an arm around you to pull you in and places a long kiss onto your temple. It's loud and filled with affection as he kisses you again but this time on your cheek. You frown but he doesn't seem to care as he tosses a glance Namjoon's way.

"I take it all went well?" His question is directed to his brother who nods with a smile.

"We enjoyed most of our time in the library. For being so quiet she has a lot to say."

Your expression grows dire at Namjoon's words but he doesn't elaborate on what he means by that. Hoseok only laughs out loud - a charming giggle as he squeezes your shoulder.

"As long as she's getting along well that's all that matters to me."

You look Namjoon's way and see as he gives you a small nod with smile. It eases you by the slightest bit and so you return his smile with one of your own. You feel like you're being discreet enough to not garner any attention but when you look around you see Jimin's and Taehyung's eyes never leaving you. It forces you to gulp loudly before clearing your throat.

"Well I'm feeling famished. What is there to eat?" Seokjin questions.

A servant in attendance goes to the kitchen and shortly after returns with others in tow with food in their hands. They place before you all a variety of fried and baked chicken. Your brows raise the slightest bit and it's with a smile does the one serving you say they ordered this dinner.

"From the Masters' favorite restaurant."

You nod as the men around you make noises of approval.

"It's been a while since we had this." Seokjin says. "You'll love it, Y/N."

Hoseok hums as he puts on the gloves that were handed to him. You follow his actions when you are also presented gloves and take a tentative sniff of the food.

"Eat, my love. Enjoy yourself."

You didn't need Hoseok's words of encouragement and so you ignore him as you take the first bite. You have to admit, this is the first time you've eaten chicken like this. You never had the chance to growing up and you don't know if it's a good thing or not. Right now though your taste buds come alive with the spicy and creamy flavor. It's unlike anything you've ever had before and so you can't help the soft moan of approval to leave your lips. Hoseok chuckles at the sound as he and brothers enjoy their meal as well.

"So how was work?" Namjoon starts off the incoming conversation. "Was there a lot to catch up on?"

Seokjin hums before swallowing his food. "A bit but nothing I can't handle. The most annoying thing was our cousin continuously pestering me for a solid answer on if she can come over. She said besides visiting us there are some things she wanted to talk about in regards to the family business."

"What about the family business?" Yoongi asks.

Seokjin shrugs. "Probably the usual. Wondering if there was anything to pass off to her despite us and our parents still being alive and well."

You try to not listen in on their conversation but being in their presence makes it hard not to.

Yoongi sighs a little. "Money makes people brave."

"And even if any of us were to die who's to say she would inherit anything?" Jimin's tongue lashes out angrily.

"If not to family then who?" This time Jungkook chimes in.

There's a pause as no one seems to have a good enough answer until Seokjin speaks up.

"We can always depend on Hoseok and Y/N for children."

You nearly choke on the chicken you swallow as Hoseok laughs.

"As enticing as it would be to make children I think it's a little too early to want to have any."

Your face twists in disgust as you try to swallow your food. Gently, you place your wrists against the egde of the table - trying to avoid getting your soiled gloves on any surface before you. Your body wriggles in discomfort as you try to avoid looking anyone's way. Some of Hoseok's brothers laugh along with him but you can't bring yourself to. At some point you make the mistake of looking up and catch Namjoon's eyes. His brows are pinched together as he looks at you in small concern. Your face flushes with heat - embarrassment coursing through you. He doesn't say anything to comfort you but his eyes tell all. He's pitying you.

You look away before taking another yet smaller bite of your food. Your appetite is slowly leaving you the longer you stay around these vampires.

"Do you still plan on inviting her over?" Namjoon tries to ease the conversation towards another way. You're grateful for that.

"Well if everyone is okay with it. I don't see why not."

Namjoon and Hoseok weren't entirely against it you recall. How the others felt you didn't know. Yoongi merely shrugs while the other three seem to think on it. After a moment Taehyung shrugs before taking a bite of his food.

"It's whatever to me."

Jimin looks down at his place in mild irritation before sighing. "It's fine with me."

Everyone looks Jungkook's way as he continues to eat. His eyes draw up to look at everyone when the weight of their eyes become too much. With a mouthful he shrugs before speaking.

"I don't care."

Seokjin hums. "Well that settles it then."

You recall what was said during breakfast - about their cousin. How she is just like Hoseok. An uneasy feeling coats your insides as you think more on it. On her. Without having to meet you already feel anxious about her being here. You highly doubt voicing your distrust over a vampire you haven't met would matter to these guys. Especially considering how you got here. They could care less about that in of itself.

At this point you can only stomach one more piece of chicken before you begin to remove your gloves and to wipe your lips with a napkin.

"Are you done eating, love?" Hoseok questions you but you don't answer him back.

You grab your glass of water and favor it over the beer that was served on the side. Everything was delicious until everyone started to speak. Their talk leaving an uncomfortable pit to form in your stomach. A weird mix of nausea and a burp is trying to work it's way up your throat but you take deep even breaths to try to avoid it coming out. Your frown is clear on your face and it takes Namjoon to ask if you were okay for all the attention to be drawn over to you.

You lick your lips before nodding - your brows still furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just full is all."

Hoseok leans over to get a closer look of your face and you watch as his expression morphs into one of concern.

"Are you sure you're okay? Was the food not to your liking?"

You shake your head no. "No the food was fine I'm just not that hungry tonight."

The sooner you get the vampires' attention off of you the better.

You hear a hum come from Seokjin as he looks over you. He doesn't elaborate on what he means by that sound but you don't know if you actually want to know.

You look over to Jimin who is unusually quiet tonight. After your entrance with Namjoon he was left feeling stumped. Surprised even. Gone was the instigator who enjoyed toying with you much to your content.

He doesn't look your way at first until he looks up to Taehyung and follows his brother's line of sight. You look over to Taehyung as well and note that he's staring at you. He gives a tentative smile your way before taking a bite out of his meal - his attention momentarily distracted. You swallow deeply when you look back to Jimin and for a while he just stares before a smile breaks out across his face. There's slight amusement in his eyes. The longer he stares the more irritated you grow but say nothing as you look back down to your plate.

"You know," you hear him say. It takes great strength from you not to roll your eyes. "After seeing Namjoon with Y/N today it really interested me."

No one responds to that but you look up to see Namjoon eating his food unperturbed.

"I think family time is good and all. Maybe Y/N should spend some alone time with the rest of us."

Your attention shoots towards Jimin's way. Your eyes widen a fraction with your brows pulling together. What was he on about with this?

Again no one says a word until Hoseok does.

"Are you saying this because you want to spend time with her yourself?"

Jimin giggles. "It's only right, no?"

You look at Hoseok as he takes a bite out of his food. He seems to be contemplating an answer as he chews. It's awkward this silence but neither of the men seem bothered by it. It's just you as you wait for Hoseok to speak up again.

He notices you staring at him and he looks up to give you a smile. After swallowing his food he raises a brow in your direction.

"That's completely up to Y/N," he says.

Your heart skips a beat as Jimin calls out your name. What was Hoseok doing? You don't want to spend time with anyone else here. Despite enjoying your time with Namjoon, if it weren't because he offered you would have never spent time with him either. Playing nice with Hoseok until you could escape was one thing. It's another to play nice with his brothers who you are sure don't like you.

Jimin calls your name again and you slowly look his way. He has a shit eating grin on his face.

"Would you mind spending time with me?"

Your brows are furrowed as you look around in discomfort.

"Don't make it sound so weird." It's Taehyung who speaks.

Jimin pouts in his direction. "It's not weird at all to want to have a pretty girl for company."

Taehyung frowns. "It is weird when said pretty girl is in a relationship."

You want to scream that you're not in a relationship but can't bring yourself to. You know you'll get in trouble for it so you keep your mouth shut.

Jimin sighs out loud in a sort of dramatic way. "She gets to spend time with Namjoon but not me? Because I make it sound weird? Didn't you say back in your room that you wanted to get to know her. To see if she was here to break Hoseok's heart or not?"

And suddenly there's a loud screech as the table before you is scraped against the floors when Taehyung pushes it roughly. You jump in fear at the sudden movement that forces the drinks to slosh viciously. It causes Jimin's and Jungkook's beers to fall over. Some of it gets on both of them as the servants hurriedly go to clean the mess up.

"Seriously, Taehyung?" Jungkook sounds irritated.

You look over at the brother in question and you see his eyes are lit up by a fiery anger. It's a huge difference to the somewhat meek appearance he's shown you so far. You think back to what Namjoon said about Taehyung having anger issues. Are you seeing firsthand what that means?

Taehyung's nostrils flare and he grits his teeth. "Don't you ever shut up?"

Jimin looks taken aback as he glowers his brother's way. "Why are you mad? It's perfectly normal to be curious."

"What's stated in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. Why do you always have to put my business out there?"

You look between the brothers as they exchange heated words.

"I didn't think it would matter."

"That's the thing, Jimin. You never think about anyone but yourself."

You're starting to feel uncomfortable. The servants do their best to clean up the mess and you watch how they maneuver around the vampires like nothing. Like they weren't phased by this happening. Are fights like these more common than you think?

Jimin sucks his teeth as he rolls his eyes.

"Jimin." Yoongi calls out to him.

Everyone keeps their eyes to themselves. Even Yoongi who looks down at his plate as he calls to his younger brother.

Jimin gives a questioning hum.

"Just apologize and let it go."

The other vampire seems like he wants to object but he frowns instead. He sends that look Taehyung's way before he closes his eyes with a soft laugh. His eyes slowly draw open again as he looks at Taehyung the words "I'm sorry" falling from his full lips.

Taehyung's nostrils flare again as he takes in the apology. You can see the way he visibly is fighting himself to argue back but he clenches his fists instead. Again without looking, Yoongi places his hand upon one of Taehyung's and squeezes it gently. You watch as the young vampire's fist sits as it is for a moment before he releases it to hold onto Yoongi's hand. From there you watch and hear as Taehyung takes slow and even breaths to try and calm himself down. It's fascinating to you as you watch the way Yoongi wordlessly helps his brother to calm himself. You figure this isn't the first time something like this has happened.

Once Taehyung is calm he releases Yoongi's hand and the two of them go back to eating. Just like that. As if nothing had happened.

You purse your lips as you look around. Everyone continues to eat like nothing. The spill from the beers have been cleaned up and the mugs are replaced with new ones that are filled to the brim.

As if feeling your eyes Namjoon looks up at you and smiles. You can't help but smile back though it feels a little awkward after what just happened.

Jimin for once in his life is quiet and it adds to the awkwardness you feel. Your fingers fidget between each other as you wait until everyone is finished because you want to leave.

After a while Hoseok hums. You look over to him as he begins to remove his gloves and grabs his napkin to wipe his lips.

"You know," he says. "I don't mind Y/N spending time with you all. Just as long as you don't try anything disrespectful."

"Of course, dear brother." Jimin voices with a smile.

"And to Taehyung." Hoseok looks his way. "It's different this time. You don't have to worry about me having my heart broken again."

Taehyung doesn't say anything but he gives you a unreadable look before nodding at Hoseok.

You look down at your hands in quiet discomfort. Why did your life have to turn out this way? It oftentimes feels like a nightmare. In moments like this you think back on your Masters. You could care less about Hyung-Won. Hyun-Sik too for wordlessly agreeing with his brother and although things started to change for the worst between you and Hyun-Woo you can't help but miss him. What was he up to now? Is he hurting now that you're gone? How is he around his brothers? Does he resent them the way you do? And what about Ji-Woon? After having been a part of your life for so long you wonder how he feels without you around? You miss him most of all.

What became of your room? Is someone living in there now or is it empty? Left untouched for years to come? So many questions swirl in your head and you can't bring yourself to answer any of them without some form of proof to back them up.

You purse your lips as a wave of sadness falls over you. You miss your old life. Now more than anything.

You feel Hoseok's hand come to rest on the back of your neck. He massages you gently until he pulls you in close to his side.

"There are some things I still have to catch up on but you're more than welcome to accompany me in the study."

Your sadness morphs into irritation but you do your best to hide it. You know he expects an answer from you but you're too busy biting your tongue to talk.

"Actually Hoseok," Namjoon starts.

You look up at him to see him send you a certain look before switching his sights over to his brother.

"Y/N wanted more of an in depth look at the library. I was going to help her with that."

Hoseok's brow raises in interest before he looks at you. "Is that so?"

The two men stare at you as they await an answer. Clearly Namjoon is trying to save your ass and you appreciate it. Truly, so you nod.

"I uh," you clear your throat. "Still don't know where everything is so I'd appreciate the help."

Your captor stares at you as if he's trying to pry the lie out of you for all to see. You feel like you're not nearly as convincing as Namjoon was just then and with Hoseok's unreadable look upon you you feel like you're about to fall about with the truth.

Just when you think you're about to crack Hoseok smiles at you. He's clearly feeling endeared towards you as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

"Understandable," he says. "But I don't want you so far away from me for too long, yeah?"

You nod your head.

"I'll find you once I'm done so don't stray away from the library."

You nod again.

This time he leans in to kiss you on the lips. You don't return it but he takes from you all the same.

A minute after that Namjoon removes his gloves and cleans his mouth. Seokjin and Yoongi follow him right after and go to stand. Each of the men claiming they have somewhere to be. The other three vampires choose to stay seated to continue eating and as if what happened earlier between Taehyung and Jimin never happened they begin to converse animatedly.

"Are you ready Y/N?" Namjoon asks.

You hum with a nod before going to stand but you're cut short as a hand goes to grab your arm. You look down at Hoseok who has you tight in his grasp. His expression is unreadable as he stares at you. You give an experimental tug of your arm but his grip is steadfast.

"What," you ask him. Your tone of voice is low but you know everyone in this room save for the servants can hear you.

Hoseok softly shakes his head before bringing you closer so he can kiss your lips again. "I love you," he says.

It makes your stomach turn.

After a moment more he releases you - a ghost of his touch lingering on your arm. You hurriedly make your way around him to join Namjoon who waits for you by the door. He doesn't say anything about the way you begin to close up around his brother. Nor does he react to Hoseok when the vampire tells him to take care of you. From there, everyone but you, Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook go to leave the dining area to return to their respected studies. Between you and Namjoon though you walk back towards the library. Your steps are slow as you watch Hoseok make his way to his study. Your eyes are on his every move and so when he disappears you stop in place. Namjoon doesn't notice at first and it's a few feet in front of you does he come to a stop before turning to look at you.

"Y/N?"

You look behind you and back at Namjoon as you begin to fidget in place.

"Are you okay," he asks.

Now was the time. You have the chance to go back to Hoseok's room to check on your bank account. You don't know when you'll be afforded the time to go and check again.

"Um," you start. Your hand goes to point behind you in an awkward manner. "I just remembered. I have to check on something back in Hoseok's room."

Namjoon's brows furrow in question. "Oh uh, okay? It has to be now?"

You nod your head. "Yeah. Just real quick! Then we can come back to the library."

Namjoon stares back at you in question but he nods. "Okay then. I can accompany you."

"No!" Your voice is a little loud and it forces you to cringe. "Sorry it'll be fast. I don't want to bother you either."

Something about the look in his eyes let's you know he's questioning you but he doesn't voice it out loud. He just gives you another nod before angling his head towards the library.

"I'll wait for you here then."

A feeling of relief washes over you. "Thank you. I'll be back."

Before he can get in another word you walk off towards your new destination. Your feet are fast over the floor beneath you - the sound of them almost quiet as you quickly make your way. Sweat pricks your skin as your nerves begin to work over time. You can feel the way your heart beats painfully against your chest as it begins to pick up pace.

This was it. This was your chance to grab your laptop and check your bank account. Besides the worry of being caught your also nervous of the idea of your account being deactivated. Hyung-Won has had enough time for him to do that but you hope he hasn't yet. Better yet, hasn't and will not do so ever at all.

You're quick as you make your way down the halls that lead you over to Hoseok's room. You grab the doorknob and twist it open before closing the door behind you.

"Okay, okay, okay," you say to yourself in a hushed voice.

You go into his closet and find your laptop. It's on the shelf with some of your things and you quickly begin to open it as you bring it down to the floor where you sit. You press the power button and wait impatiently as it takes its time to turn on. Your hands tapping your knees in a restless manner. When it finally comes to life you log in and open the web browser. Swiftly you access the saved tab on your laptop that'll lead you over to your bank's website. Everything is loading as fast as it can but your nerves tell you it isn't fast enough. Soon enough the website loads and you log in to your account. You wait with bated breath your heart accelerateting just a tad bit more.

"Come on, come on." More words rushed out of you in a hushed voice.

Just when you think you'll get an error the site loads and there before you, you see your balance staring back at you.

"Oh my god," you cry out.

You try to refrain from crying in relief. Thank the gods. Your account has been left untouched. You stare at the numbers before checking any pending payments that may be in action right now but there's nothing. It's just you and what you have now. You feel nothing but comfort in knowing you have your money. Now it was just a matter of getting out of here to then use it. You take that chance to search online for nearby stores with ATMs as well as hotels or motels. There are a few places to stay nearby but the further away the better. The plan was to successfully runaway and not risk the chance of getting caught. You take note of a few of them and begin to calculate how much money you'll be able to use. See where else you can stay that won't cost too much as you find a job and eventually find your own place. You don't have much time before you're sure Namjoon will come find you or even worse Hoseok so you type out in a notepad a list of places to look back into when it's time for you to leave. After you're done you quickly close everything up and shut the laptop down before placing it back on the shelf it once was on.

You feel a lot better now knowing you still have your bank account. You don't know how long before it won't be available anymore so the next few days need to be spent on finding an exit you can slip out of without being detected. You're wondering if Namjoon would be willing to give you an extensive tour of the place out front. You believe Namjoon can in comparison to Hoseok. Just as long as the former keeps quiet about it. You hope.

You exit the closet and the bedroom as you make your way back towards the library. It's like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders as your steps are a lot lighter than before. You head down the stairs and just as you're about to reach the library you hear the call of your name. You stop in the hall to turn around and see Taehyung. Your eyes widen a fraction as your brows raise up on your forehead. He slowly approaches you before giving you a tentative smile. You smile back though yours is a little more unsure. He bites his lip once he reaches you as he slips his hands deep into his pockets. When you think he won't say anything it catches you off guard when he apologizes. Your brows furrow in confusion when you ask about what.

His lips hang apart for a minute before he licks them. "About earlier during dinner. What Jimin had said."

Oh. He was apologizing about the exchange of words the fight started out over. What was it again? That he was curious about seeing if you would break Hoseok's heart or not? The reminder of it sends you into discomfort as you bite the inside of your cheek.

He shifts a little in his spot before looking down at his feet. "You have to understand," he says. "I'm very protective of my brothers. Especially of Hoseok after what happened to him."

You don't know what to say but your discomfort grows evermore.

His eyes shift back up to your own and there's a seriousness to them that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Maybe I'm wrong to assume the worst will happen but you understand, right?"

Your hands begin to worry between each other. It's becoming apparent by the second that you're uncomfortable beneath Taehyung's gaze. You want him to stop looking at you, talking to you, perceiving your presence. You take in a shaky breath before releasing it.

Taehyung says nothing about your sudden need to stay quiet but he continues to talk unperturbed by it.

"I don't know you and you don't know me but we can learn about each other at some point. For Hoseok's sake that is."

So he didn't want to know you for reasons like Namjoon. He only wanted to do it because of Hoseok. That was a big red flag for you. You know for sure he'll tell Hoseok anything and everything about you. From your words to your actions. You know then not to trust Taehyung.

He raises a brow at you expectantly as he awaits for an answer from you.

You clear your throat and force your hands to your sides to keep them from wringing each other. "Okay." It's all you can say.

Taehyung pinches his bottom lip between his teeth lightly before nodding. "I guess I'll see you around." It's not a question but a statement.

You guess so and nod his way.

He gives you one last look before departing away from you and heading the opposite direction. A breath you hadn't realize you'd been holding is released and it leaves you in small tremors. You look down at your hands and see how they shake. After today you can say Taehyung scares you and you wanted nothing to do with him. Wanted nothing to do with any of these vampires. Hoseok especially.

How much longer are you going to have to deal with them? Knowing you have your money you hope it's not too long. Just enough time to finally find your freedom and leave everyone behind.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok #yanderebts #btsfanfic #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #reader #fanfic

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theprettynosferatu · 2 years

Text

There often comes a point in life when one has to accept that there are some things in life that cannot be explained by logic, by cold analysis, by common sense. Maybe it’s the breakup of a seemingly perfect relationship, or a coincidence that defies all statistical odds; it can be as small as a pebble or as big as an earthquake, and everyone deals with the revelation differently. Some break, some bend, some grow and change.

Nika faced The Unexplained earlier than most, in many ways. Her first encounter with it was simple yet profound: why did everyone find her friends more attractive than her? Surely it couldn’t be something as silly as hair color. A jet-black brunette in a sea of blondes, she saw over and over dumb teenagers drool and fawn over her friends as if she was invisible. Why was one color inherently superior to another? Or perhaps it was that her friends developed early and… visibly. It made no sense to her. Why was she the only one without curves? And were people so superficial as to change how they behaved towards others if those others had shapely bodies? It was impossible to explain, but she saw it first-hand. Even adults who presumably should have more experience and wisdom treated her friends one way and Nika in a wholly different manner. To her, it defied logic. People were more than just their bodies, and yet…

The Unexplained asserted itself again when finally, at age nineteen, Nika had her own late blooming. Suddenly, men listened to her, gave her their full attention, treated her with either kindness or gross desire. It simply made no sense, and so Nika learned to accept that the world was just arbitrary and there was no purpose or meaning behind anything, only the feeble illusion of order imposed by weak minds that needed things to make sense. Well, things didn’t make sense and didn’t need to. Other cultures, she found, accepted this inherently. They might call it magic or karma or the acts of different spirits, but they weren’t shackled by that pathetic need for everything to have a neat, understandable nature. They embraced The Unexplained, and Nika learned to embrace it as well.

Perhaps that was the reason she didn’t panic when, late one night, she could hear her neighbors. They were a middle aged couple that often took to screaming their grievances and each other’s shortcomings, so hearing them wasn’t special in itself: the strange thing was that Nika realized she was hearing them and they weren’t speaking. Images and words and sensations came to her in the midnight silence. She focused, and realized she could do more than listen. It was as if their minds were strange, ethereal pieces of clockwork, and moving one piece slightly changed the rotation and speed of some cogs and stopped others. Almost as a child playing, she started turning off smaller, superfluous parts of their machinery and rerouting the freed power to the center of it, the core. Fact was, they loved each other. Sure, over the years little annoyances had built up and were making that pivotal gear hard to see, but it was there. Nika gave it more energy, cleared some of the debris out. She did this not because it was kind or right: it was just the easiest path for her first attempt.

She learned that different minds worked differently. Some were easy to access, some hard. Some were like machines, others like landscapes. Some were even painful to enter and difficult to escape, and these she learned to avoid. Luckily, her old friends had minds as simple as them. To change them was almost too easy, and a bit disappointing. She guessed that when one lived for what others thought, the mind accepted foreign ideas more easily. Whatever the case, she made herself quite the little harem. It felt good, to see the blondes on their knees, fighting each other for the privilege of licking her pussy, kissing her feet, feeling her soft skin. There was a charm in giving each one a differently colored collar and having them happily eat from their kitty bowls. It was satisfying to make them break up with their boyfriends in the cruelest ways possible, record it and make them rub themselves to the videos. To Nika, it was symmetry. Years of privilege deserved years of degradation.

Still, it was too easy, and variety was, after all, the spice of life. So now Nika waits for the man. She can’t be bothered to learn his name– she will give him a new one soon. Tinder made the hookup a breeze, and he agreed instantly to meet her at her place, as any man would. Men, as a group, were not blameless in Nika’s mind. They were superficial, dumb beings that didn’t care who they hurt with their barely controlled lust. They didn’t care who they made feel invisible, or worthless just because she didn’t look the way they thought she ought to. So adding men to her little family of worshiping was a natural extension of her dominion of righteousness. And so, she waits.

He’s late. That feels like an insult and more than enough reason to punish him appropriately, so Nika spends her minutes dreaming of things to make him do, trying to top herself in terms of malice and creativity. She maps out the different scenarios: what would hurt him most if he has a son or daughter? If he is obsessed with his career? If he’s married and trying to cheat? Different lives deserve different destructions: there has to be a certain beauty, a poetry to the downfall.

Finally, the doorbell rings.

He looks exactly like his picture on the site. That surprises Nika. Usually people don’t look like their pictures: they edit and choose and carefully select what to show and what to hide. This man, however, is as unremarkable as his picture suggested. If anything, he looks even kinder in person. Attractive but not overly so, with big caring eyes and the vibe of one who is looking for that special someone. Nika figures that might be moving to other women. To her, it makes him look even more like a lamb, like prey. She smiles and welcomes him inside with all the warmth she can muster. It might be gauche to play with food, but it sure is fun.

They make small talk. The smallest of talks, in fact. He’s patient, she gives him that. Nothing of substance is said, but time passes pleasantly enough. Still, she has toyed enough with this man; his mind is bound to be more interesting than his words. Silently, Nika reaches out…

She sees herself opening a plain door. Christ. Some minds have their barriers up and she sees them as walls, or moats, or big scary fences. This man is as weak as a kitten: his mind is unlocked, unbarred, unprotected. Gullible and naive to a fault, probably. She steps through.

Oh, so easy. His mind is a little, tidy machine: the sort of rigid mind that breaks when with the slightest touch. She decides to take it slowly, adjusting a lever here, changing a number there…

He’s standing there, looking mildly confused. Oh, you poor lamb. Nika decides to give it a small test run. He puts her hand out, a queen in court.

“Kiss it”

He kneels to do it, too. Nika can’t help but smile… but part of her is disappointed. An easy catch. Too easy. It doesn’t feel… sporting. Ah, fuck it. Life isn’t fair, hasn’t been fair to her, and it won’t be fair to him, either. His fault for being so simple and…

“Sorry, I dropped a quarter. There we go. You were saying?”

What? Oh, maybe this will be mildly interesting. He did kneel, but his mind recoiled in a desperate attempt to keep something resembling free will and conjured a reasonable explanation for his actions. No matter. Victory is assured. She just has to reach in again, and…

Nothing.

Nika stands in the middle of a white void. This should not be possible. Everyone, even the dumbest fuck has a mind, has memories, has… something. But the man… she looks around, dizzy. Above her, below her, around her there’s an absolute void. Not a single thought to be found. Not even an impression, a distant trauma, a… she tries to make sense of it. This is the mindspace of someone who isn’t alive– no, she corrects herself. This is someone that never lived, never existed. This is wrong. Nika’s own mind recoils when facing what simply shouldn’t be but nonetheless is. A chill travels up her spine and every instinct in her tells her she needs to leave, and needs to leave now. She turns back to the door.

It’s not there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! What is going on?

“I’m disappointed”

The voice reverberates, coming from everywhere and nowhere, coming from within her own head. A dark, blue cloud rolls through the white sky embracing everything in a dark mantle. Nika feels cold, and small, and naked. This is wrong. This is not how…

“How it was supposed to go?”

The voice sounds weary. Sad, even.

“Did you think you were the only one? The special, chosen being? The one person destined to rule, a queen of the mind? Did you dream of a throne?”

Nika sits on a golden throne as shadows bow to her. Yes. Yes, this is more like it. This is exactly what… wait, where was she? Where is she? She tries to get up but golden hands with glistening jewels hold her fast. The shadows bow no longer. They laugh. No, no, shut up! No one laughs at her! Not anymore!

“You know it’s true what they say. Heavy is the head that wears the crown”

Heavy. Her head feels heavy. Her eyelids feel heavy. She needs to rest. She needs to close her eyes and just… fall deeper and deeper, deeper into the ocean of red, deeper into…

The peroxide burns. She’s sixteen and angry. It burns but she doesn’t care. If blonde hair was the key to being noticed, fuck it, she could be as blonde as… no, no, this isn’t her. Not anymore. The blonde sluts are her toys now, she… it burns. She knows she’s making her hair weaker, but she doesn’t care. It burns deeper now. Burns her scalp. Burns her mind. Makes her weaker.

No! No, this isn’t real!

“But it is. You did do this not that long ago, your majesty. You wanted to be like them. Wanted to feel desired. Wanted to be seen. Well, I see you.”

Eye. See. You.

He sees her. They all see her. Eyes, somewhere. She knows they are out there, all for her. She smiles. All eyes are on her, and she knows what to do. Stunning in her black lingerie and high heels, she smiles for the invisible eyes and winks with complicity. They all desire her. They all want to fuck her. She lets her hands caress her legs, her pale skin and a soft moan escapes her lips. She plays with her raven hair, so soft, so shiny. They all see her. They all want her. And she loves every second of it. Her wet pussy demands her attention, and she…

Wait, what is she doing? No, she’s not some… some… but it feels so good… so right… No, stop it. She’s a queen, a ruler, a… a sexy, confident slut. Yes, that’s better… She rubs herself softly over silken panties, feeling the wetness on her slender fingers… they are all looking at her. Eyes everywhere, all for her. Not anyone else, her… she needs to be seen… to be wanted… a beautiful body to be displayed, used, posed and…

She’s walking down the hall. Class will start soon, and she’s invisible. Men look at her friends, entranced by their blonde hair, their short skirts. Nika is invisible. She starts to suspect she doesn’t exist at all. Maybe she’s a ghost, of a memory long faded. She walks into the classroom and takes a seat. The teacher… who is he? Has he seen him before? No one seems surprised. He must be the regular teacher. She must be mistaken.

“Lovers and madmen have such seething brains

Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend

More than cool reason ever comprehends”

The teacher recites. Nika can’t help but feel his words echo inside her, like cold fingers caressing her darkest secrets. Is she a lover? A madwoman? Something else entirely?

“Reason, my dear students, can only take us so far. We all have ideas, fantasies, dreams that go against all rational thought. Nika, can you provide some examples?”

He sees her. He sees her and she needs to answer. He might fail her if she doesn’t! And he’d be so disappointed… that’s what scares her the most. She wants to make him proud. She needs his approval, more than anything, more than air. She stands up.

“I… I have this dream… that I… get into people’s heads, and… make them my eager slaves, my… playthings. And it makes me so… so fucking wet… and just thinking about it, I…”

“Please, come to the desk”

Nika does as she’s told. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense. She knows she needs to please him. She knows what he wants from her. She sits on the desk and opens her legs, showing everyone exactly how soaked her fantasies get her.

“I want to rule… to…”

“But that’s not exactly true, isn’t it Nika? There is something else you want, something deeper”

Deeper? What does she want, deep down? She rubs her pussy, knowing it holds all the answers. Moaning, she starts to babble a darker truth, one she never admitted to herself before.

“I… fuck… I want to be taken… to be just… wanted… desired… I don’t want to have to think… I… I am so fucking jealous… my friends are so hot… and I pretend I’m better than them, but… I… I just want to be a stupid fucking sex object like them… fuck! Everyone is so nice to them because they want to fuck them… their lives are so easy because they have big tits…”

“Well, isn’t that pathetic”

“Mmm… yes… it is… I am… I am so weak and pathetic… a little envious cunt… I… I don’t deserve to… fuck… to make choices… I deserve to be used… and punished… and…”

“Nika, where are you?”

“I… school…”

“Really? You truly think so? I have to say, I’m so disappointed in you. Nika, Nika, Nika… You know, for a second there, I had hope. I thought maybe, just maybe you could be a partner. An equal. You are like me, after all. But in the end you are what you always have been. A spiteful, resentful, little-minded person. And you know it, don’t you? You know you deserve to fall. You know you want to be broken. And so, as much as it pains me to do so… I’ll give you what you want”

Nika blinked awake. Before her, the man sat, eminently bored, with just a hint of disappointment in his eyes. She noticed something bubbling up inside her, something she immediately recognized as alien, as an invading, insidious force. It felt, nevertheless, very real and very imperative. She needed his approval. She feared letting him down. And she was well aware he had put those feelings in her. Desperation began to set in, even as she fought it every second. What could she do to please him? No, that was… false. A mirage. She didn’t need his approval! She didn’t want to be…

A moan escaped her lips as her mind slipped away from her and filled in the blank in a barrage of words. His toy. His property. His fuckdoll. His slave. His slut. His. His. His. No. She fought back, sending the intruding thoughts deep inside her where they couldn’t hurt her, and realized in a panic that the deeper she sent the ideas, the more strength they gained, as if they were an infection in her subconscious…

He put his hand out.

She knew what he wanted, and she knew it because it was what she had planned to make him do. Horror gripped her as she realized her body was moving despite her every attempt to make it stop, and the feeling doubled as she realized her pussy got warmer and wetter with every futile moment of resistance, with every single unwilling second of motion. Soon she was on her knees and a deep calm gripped her. It felt right. It felt natural. It was artificial. It was her brain betraying her. She knew it, but that didn’t make the feeling any less pleasant. It was so easy to relax… to let go…

Before she knew it, her lips kissed his outstretched hand and a wave of pleasure snaked through her body. He had taken her brain, and now her brain was using her body to torture her. She should hate it, hate him, hate her own weakness. Instead, her shame only heightened every sensation, made her more eager to please him the more she detested herself. He had beaten her, after all. Maybe she should feel weak. Maybe weakness felt good.

He told her to rise, and she did. He told her to go to his car, and she did. She felt as if she was wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket while her body vibrated with a mixture of arousal, shame and blissful joy. It became harder and harder to resist, or even remember why she should resist at all. Still, a small part of her burned in anguish, tried in vain to snap her out of it, to tell her that going into that car was, by all metrics, a very, very bad idea. It was a tiny voice, growing more distant as buildings and cars and streetlights zoomed by in a pleasant, mesmerizing blur.

Panic set in when she realized where they were parked. The sign made her chest tighten and her heart beat with maddening intensity: “Hydra Tattoo and Piercing Parlor.”

She fought every step of the way, cursing her legs for moving… and for moving to please him. There would be no turning back. He would brand her forever. Make it so every time she looked at herself she’d only see what he wanted her to see: his fucktoy. She hated him so much… and her hand had started rubbing over her pants, right there, in full view of anyone that happened to walk by the parking lot. It teased her, torturing her as she walked to her doom. It shouldn’t feel so fucking good. He had made it feel good, she knew… but the sensation was undeniable. Artificial or natural… the distinction made little difference. Maybe… maybe it was for the best. Wait, had she thought that? Or was it something he had put in her head? Did it matter?

She couldn’t deny she felt… at peace, somehow. Unburdened. Free from her resentment, her envy. As she walked in behind him, that feeling of freedom grew. It was strange, as if a battle had ended. A battle with herself, with the world, with other women. Things just felt… right. In their proper place.

Nika made out a few words between the man and the hot, raven-haired tattoo artist. “Nipple piercings”. “Clit, too”. Her pussy felt on fire. Then he looked at her. He pulled his sleeve back. There, on his arm was a symbol: a sliver of moon surrounding a small sun, almost devouring it.

“This is my symbol. It will be yours, too. We’ll be linked. Forever.”

A tear fell down Nika’s face. As much as she hated it, as much as she’d want to say they were a product of his mindfucking, deep down she knew her words were hers, honest like never before.

“Thank you. I’m yours. And what’s mine is yours”

“Oh, I’m well aware. We can round up the toys after”

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