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#and i’m saying i have the type of presence/aura that allows me to show up to social events sans makeup and with just a dewey face!
gretagerwigsmuse · 3 months
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forgot i’m getting a peel at my facial today and i have plans to go to a wine tasting later. tbd if i am still going to the wine tasting later.
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lightlycareless · 5 months
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I saw your posts about how Naoya doesn’t want a third in his bedroom activities with Y/N and how he reacted with Naoaki. But do you think that Naoya would ever let Toji join in as a third? I can’t quite tell if he would or if that’d be even more intimidating to him since he couldn’t think how you couldn’t be super into it with Toji. It probably wouldn’t happen either way since you mentioned in one of works that Y/N is intimidated/a little scared of Toji
Hello!!
Not going to lie, I’m really happy something like this popped up in my ask hahahahah I was waiting for it!! It was inevitable, you know???
But now, going onto a more serious note—
After thinking about it and really wanting to say that Naoya wouldn’t share you even if it was Toji we’re talking about… because like, he admires Gojo but he wouldn’t allow that with him, right?
However, the admiration he has for Toji is at a completely different level compared to anyone else, and if he began to show the simplest of interests in Y/N, there’s no doubt in my mind that Naoya would try to create interactions between the tw, so they’d get to know each other, spend time, that kind of stuff.
 But does that mean he’d allow him to fuck you?
… Toji would first have to show interest in you like that in order to even be considered.
Warnings: mentions of infidelity (I’d go with dub-con at this point) mentions of pregnancy, and Toji mocking Naoya in all crude ways possible. Also, someone likes this kind of stuff a bit. (honestly this is me just wanting to write something with toji. the actual answer is on the bottom lol) SMUUUTTTT MINORS DNI.
a sequel can be found here.
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It happens soon after you’re brought to the estate.
You’re the newest addition to the Zen’in clan: a bright smiled, innocent looking girl that surprisingly (not really) fell into the claws of the heir.
Toji had become accustomed to the women that caught Naoya’s interest—the type that would make anyone think “of course he likes someone like her.”
But they never lasted beyond two sightings before he was already with someone else, and certainly, no one ever thought of them as suitable candidates for marriage.
Eventually they stopped appearing all together, and for a long time, Naoya was single as he could be… until you arrived.
Someone so… different to Naoya in every sense of the word, far outside his typical interest, or malleability. Yet you managed to not only catch his attention but persuade him into marriage—and it seemed you wanted him too.
It’s safe to say that these things made Toji deeply intrigued by you—and not only because of your outstanding merits towards his seemingly unconquerable cousin, but also because on a personal level, he found you a beauty hard to ignore, much more delightful than those before you, and soon, he finds himself somehow understanding why the wimpy heir decided to marry you.
But his amazement doesn’t stop there, reaching a new high when finally meeting you, face to face, for the first time. It wasn’t just your aura, which he considered to be highly unfitting to the surrounding environment, that affected his perception, but the way you treated him as well.
Even when intimidated by his presence— just as he expected, used to it by now—you still remained amicable towards him; to the disgrace of the Zen’in, the stain in the family lineage no one even dared look at, less mention.
Not to you though. To you, he was Naoya’s cousin, his admiration, the one he sets as inspiration when it comes to strength, partaking in small talk whenever possible before retreating, but not without expressing how you’d like to see him around more often, perhaps even drink tea together one day…
Toji is completely smitten by you at this point, and the question of how you even set your eyes on Naoya, when there were so much better options, quickly settles in his mind.
But perhaps how you managed to inundate his thoughts, to the point you are all he thinks about, is the bigger question in turn.
The topic of a threesome is nothing more than a fantasy to him at that point— highly unexpected, if not impossible, and completely avoided…
That is, until tensions between you, Naoya, and Toji, become far too much to ignore.
It would start with Toji complimenting you, like the devil whispering against your husband’s ear, he’d say…
“You have a beautiful wife, Naoya.”
And your husband is somewhat elated to see that his idol approves of you, somewhat seeking his approval one way or the other.
But after his words become more cryptic, to say the least, hesitation begins to flourish in Naoya’s mind.
“Do you ever wonder she feels lonely after you leave for work? In this wide, cold manor… it’s impossible not to—I know all about it, after all.”
“… is there something you want, Toji-kun?”
Here is where the idea finally makes its appearance in your and Naoya’s conversation—offered by you, shockingly, but not because you were interested, rather, because that’s the conclusion you arrived to after hearing Naoya’s request of, in his own words…
“I want you to spend more time with Toji-kun, so he doesn’t feel… lonely.”
“It almost sounds like you want me to fuck him.”
“I never said that.”
“But you implied it.”
He remains silent.
“Naoya… do you want me… to?”
You were nothing but highly aware of his admiration towards the man. The constant proclamations of his virtues the rest of the clan failed, or didn’t care, to observe—even going as far to defend him against them when needed.
It gave you a certain happiness to know that Naoya confided in someone that way, pushed him to overcome his limits, so naturally, you’d want to do anything for the man that brought out the best side of your husband.
But you never, not even in your most bizarre dreams, expected his fascination to go to these lengths.
However, as much as you were offended by his indiscreet suggestions, a very deep part of you was also… allured by it.
There is no reason to deny the mystery that surrounded Toji—a kind of atmosphere that even though terrifying to you, you still couldn’t keep your eyes away from him, silently trailing his every move from a safe distance while earnestly wondering what a man like him could spend his time on when away from the estate.
Does he… goes to see someone? Spend the night, or weeks, in someone’s arms whenever he didn’t come back?
Or indulge in shady business as most began to suspect? As the occurring scars appearing on his arms and chest suggested?
It’s not something you’ll get to know, you dejectedly reckon, but you suppose that getting to know him, even if just for a little bit, will make the invitation to your… nightly activities, all worthwhile.
“…so that you won’t feel lonely.” Is the excuse you go with when bringing up the matter to Toji—probably the dumbest one you could’ve given him considering how he doesn’t hesitate to erupt into laughter, amused by this silly, stupid pretext of yours.
As well as infuriated, for the one thing he hated the most right after his family, was being pitied.
“I don’t want you to treat me like I’m some kind of miserable animal.” He scoffs once his glee dies. “Don’t come here, offering things you’re not even sure about, just because you want to feel good at my expense.”
Naoya and you rightfully conclude that not only had you been incredibly immature by going through with this unusual request, which wouldn’t have survived as long as it did have it been literally anyone else, but also, dented whatever little relationship the two had with him—although your concern sustained more for Naoya; you could only imagine how this strain would make him feel…
And yet, even when the foreseeable future had apparently darkened, closing windows for any kind of reconciliation thanks to his disgust towards the whole situation… something in Toji’s demeanor told you he hadn’t given up on the idea.
Whether because he saw the growing, genuine anxiety reflecting on the young couple’s face, or because he was glad his subtle actions finally paid off…
“But who am I to reject opportunities handed to me?” He adds—it’s almost undetectable, but something akin to desire flashes across his eyes. “If that’s what the heir and his lady  want, I’m nothing but your humble servant.”
You and Naoya agree on a night for everything to unfold, one that wasn’t necessarily intruding on his upcoming missions, but also fit in Toji’s schedule.
Either way, it’s safe to say that no amount of preparation could’ve done anything to ease your nerves.
Not even the constant reminder that you agreed to it, and now, had to keep your word.
The idea of inviting someone into your intimacy had always escaped your and Naoya’s minds. The reasoning behind it was simple: you did not want to do something like that in your marriage. It was almost… sacrilegious to even think about it. And Naoya agreed, too jealous to debate otherwise.
So now, that you’re here, waiting in your bedroom, just a few minutes away from those doors sliding open and welcoming that extra person in… it’s as nerve-wracking as you expected.
Almost to the point of calling it off…
But when Toji finally appears, in nothing less than a simple robe… something deep inside your conscience quickly reminds you why you were so willing to accept suggesting this offer, even when you had listed a thousand reasons not to.
You loved your husband very much, and there is no doubt in your soul that he is the love of your life, the future father of your children, the one you will spend the rest of your life with. You cannot imagine any other man in that position, none at all.
But tonight, and only for tonight… you wished to know what it felt to be touched by someone else.
By a man so intimidating, rejected by the same society that brought him onto this world, forced to be unruly, without inhibitions, just to have a chance to survive and eventually becoming nothing but shade, a monster that no one even dared to mutter his name for fear he’d come to haunt their existence—something that your husband never experienced, never had to.
Pristine, upkept, and highly controlling. That’s who Naoya was.
While Toji was like the forbidden fruit, that once the seed of curiosity was implanted in your mind, didn’t take long for you to seek after.
If you were to get one taste, if only a small one, you’ll be satisfied.
And in turn, you’d give him a chance to soil the values you represented: the untouchable wife of the heir, the woman Naoya desperately fought to obtain, the door to the next generation of Zen’in sorcerers…
All crumbling beneath the touch of someone they considered the lowest of the low, a disgrace.
This was supposed to be an affair between the three, with the obvious notion that you were to be shared amongst the two men, as equitable as possible, although with preference for Naoya.
However, Toji’s existence had always marked an exception to all rules, and your husband soon realizes that he wasn’t to be an active participant as he wished to be, and that perhaps, this was a bad idea all along…
Toji found it endearing to see how Naoya was trying to “get you in the mood” by kissing you, as if trying to cheer you up through this amoral endeavor, and do your best to please him, darling!
But the same time, it felt almost as if he were seeing a bunch of virgins discovering what sex was for the first time, which he did not have the patience for.
Feeling rather generous, Toji takes matters into his own hands by swiftly pulling you away from Naoya and forcing you to focus on him—coarse fingertips kneading and grabbing your skin as to remind you who you were doing this for in the first place—all while capturing your lips into a heated kiss that quickly takes your breath away.
“What? Don’t want this anymore?” he breathes hotly against your ear, making you squirm and whine in turn. But while his words were directed to you, his eyes are nothing but locked onto Naoya’s uneasy ones.
Your husband isn’t naïve when it comes to the teasing nature of those around him. How he believes everyone is out to get him, try to get what he has, yet failing miserably.
He’s seen it on Naoaki, how he attempts to get to him through you, teasing you, flustering you, but overall, keeping his attention on you, because after all what said and done, Naoya is still a figure of respect and he wouldn’t dare mess with him directly.
But Toji isn’t like that. He’s nothing like all he’s ever faced before. His cousin is relentless when it comes to disrespecting authority, more so when it comes to your husband. Naoya just makes it too easy.
Maybe it’s another way for him to get back at the Zen’’in. Spit on their faces and let them know that no matter how much they try to isolate him, look away whenever he crosses their paths, act like he doesn’t even exist—
A monkey like him will always find its way around them. To rattle them.
And he wants Naoya to see that.
He wants him to burn the image of his wife being ravaged by a lowlife like him—touching her, defiling her, and…
How she likes it.
“Do you see that? Do you see how well she takes me?” Toji breathes, a smirk on his lips as his eyes remain on the lewd way your cunt squeezed his cock as if struggling to hold him yet trying so hard to keep him inside.
Toji didn’t know whether to laugh at the seemingly too good to be true notion of the innocent, naïve, well liked by everyone wife of the heir throwing her hips back into him whenever he plunged his cock deep into her pussy.
At the way you’d moan whenever he abused that one spot that made you even tighter, the squelches of your greedy pussy evidently enjoying how your walls are being stretched, in ways it hadn’t as he was able to discern from Naoya’s size, or the squeals you’d gift him whenever teasing your asshole with his fingers, slapping your ass soon after, one of the many markings he’ll leave behind of this unforgettable night…
But most importantly, at the fact that Naoya was completely aroused by a man defiling his beloved wife. Because as much as he wished to place himself above it all, like he was hating the idea of sharing you, his throbbing cock and occasional rub in efforts to calm his frustration gives him away.
“Are you getting off with this, Naoya?” Toji would refer to him yet again, pace unrelenting as he subdues you beneath him. You can’t show it, but you’re glad you’re unable to see your husband’s face—it’s much too shameful to do so, if not terrifying.
But thrilling
“With the sight of your loyal wife, oh so dedicated to the heir…”
“St—Stop it To—Toj—ah!” you gasp when he pulls you by the hair, raising your face and forcing you to see Naoya, but with all the pleasure he’s giving you, you’re simply not there. “T—To—ji…!”
“And yet, here she is. Taking a monkey like me, right in front of your dear husband, like her life depended on it!”
“N—No…!” is what you manage to gasp through the brief seconds of awareness, doing your best to not show the feelings he was pushing your body through—obviously failing. “Don’t—don’t say—!”
You weren’t oblivious to this treatment.
After all, Naoya could be rough, borderline cruel, teasing, and yet…
He was nothing compared to Toji.
It’s always been like that. Even when many denied it, Toji was just on another level, and if his merits in the world of jujutsu didn’t show that, your incessant moans proved so.
“To—ji—Toji….!”
Naoya had long begun to feel as if he were watching something he shouldn’t—as if he were intruding on a couple’s intimacy, and not as if he were your husband, the partner in question…
But with the way Toji was fucking you, manhandling you into positions he wasn’t even aware he could do, less you tolerate… it’s like he was the one invited over for a threesome, and not the other way around.
“Look at her, Naoya.” He smirks, licking his lips as he continues pounding against you in the nth position that night—the one Naoya hated the most, for it forced him to take a good look at what was happening to you.
Toji had you with your legs raised, arms keeping you still and hands locked behind your head as his cocked plunged deep and viciously deeper into you, a lewd sight that Naoya couldn’t avoid due to the nature of this position.
Naoya could take any situation, perhaps even naively hoped that he would be able to withstand more of this if he didn’t get to see how Toji fucked you…  but he knew he had lost control of the situation the moment his cousin set his eyes on you, and now, couldn’t do anything but stare at the libidinous fact of his cock claiming your entrance repeatedly as you lose yourself into the pleasure.
“Look at the way her cunt takes me.”
Your husband doesn’t respond, he can’t, not when his gaze is solely focused on your blank eyes, mouth agape, drooling, while your moans reveal the overwhelming extent of pleasure he knows he’s never given you.
“She’s squeezing me so tight, it’s like she doesn’t want to let go!” Toji laughs, and really, he’s happy you don’t—this is confidently a thrill he hasn’t experienced in a long time, if ever!
It felt almost demoralizing to do such a thing, but yet, what will a man like him know about morale? Or even care after all the horrible things he’s gone through?
“Do you even fuck her right, cousin?”
He looks forward to keeping this moment in his heart till the end of his days…
If not longer, as the revelation that suddenly crosses his mind implies, the only moment that would snap you and Naoya out of trance when acknowledging this wasn’t just senseless rambles of a man drunken in pleasure, but a threat to their relationship, if not the clan.
“I can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s faces once they figure out you’re pregnant with my kid.”
“Toji, don’t—” Naoya gasps, eyes snapping to his.
“N—No, To—Toji! is what little manage to muster before Toji locks you in on place once more, as if reminding you of your position before one of his hands snakes down to tease your sensitive bud, fingers roughly squeezing and twisting it, making you moan and tense as your orgasm pushes you closer and closer the edge—a sensation Toji can delightfully feel building up in his throbbing cock as well. “Ple—please Toji!”
Please what?
Please don’t cum inside you?
Or please cum inside you?
You don’t know at that point anymore.
But not that it matters, it’s not a decision for you to make anyways, not when he continues to plunge his cock against you, deeper as he could reach, bruising your cervix, against that spot that has you seeing stars, a few more strokes, and then—
He cums.
He cums, letting out all of his warm, thick seed into your tight walls, and filling you to the brim. Deep inside your core and with an extravagant amount you couldn’t hold, managing to escape through the rim of your entrance and drip down onto the sheets, a sight Naoya could not peel his eyes away from, reinforcing the overwhelming feeling of wrongness against all, and yet… he did nothing to stop it.
Naoya didn’t fight it, didn’t push his cousin away or even condemn him.
He just watched everything unfold, the same way you did through your hazed eyes, and took it.
“N—No…” you whimper, doing your best to raise your hands onto your face and hide from him, urge him to look away, but you couldn’t, and he didn’t, filling you with shame amidst your orgasm as Toji rubbed out the last wave of your release, unwittingly tightening against his still hard cock, making him moan in your ear. “D—don’t look, Naoya…”
“A baby.” Toji breathes, still high on his release—he doesn’t know if he really means it, or it’s just the side effect of his orgasm, but he’s too drunk to care. “A baby from a disgrace like me and a saint like you—I wonder what will come out of that?”
His cock suddenly slips out of your cunt while adjusting himself, accidentally splash some of it’s seed onto Naoya’s grasp. Your husband looks at it with utter disgust, but he can’t discern whether it’s for the fluid, the notion of you being pregnant with someone else’s child, or that he secretly enjoyed witnessing all this.
“But most importantly…” He breathes, raising his eyes to Naoya once more. “What will you tell the elders once they find out? How will you explain that your wife is carrying a bastard, simply because you wanted to see a disgrace like me fucking her?
“You—you won’t get her—one time isn’t enough.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” He mocks, Naoya frowns. “I wouldn’t bet on it—"
Toji sighs, taking a deep breath before reaching for his cock, aligning it onto your entrance, giving it a teasing rub or two that quickly has you whining in reproach, trembling at the prospect of another session like this when you’ve barely rested—but moaning when he finally enters you, throwing your head back as he goes all the way back to your cervix, stretching your walls and pushing the rest of his seed out, before nestling the tip just where you he liked and staying there.
He smiles, raising your legs yet again, before beginning to thrust.
“After all, I’m not done yet.”
Neither you nor Naoya would bring this up again.
Keeping it a secret between the two, hoping the third wouldn’t use this as blackmail, offering whatever it took to hide this affair from the clan, even if the answer was one they weren’t sure if they wanted to listen, more so when Toji simply… eased them to not worry, telling them that:
“If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”
Although he knows it wouldn’t take long before one of you approaches him in the future for a similar affair, knows it’ll happen, it’s just a matter of time.
But whether it’ll be you, or Naoya… that’s something he’s thrilled to find out.
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Omg. Well, that was interesting to write 😊 So long story short: if Naoya were to know this would happen, he would NOT invite Toji for a threesome hahaha. And in an ideal world, the thought of being with anyone else but your husband is enough to scare you away from it—as I told you, NaoyaxY/n is my way to go. It is what it is. So nope, no threesome with Toji. You're too intimidated by him anyways.
But does that mean I will deny myself from writing things like this? NOPE. Hahahaha I still hoped you enjoyed it!! Now I gotta write the Naoaki one….
Thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope the hentai plot going on was good lol.
Take care, and hope to see you soon!!
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literary-motif · 4 days
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I Don't Forgive You
Asirel Cain x Reader
Warnings: misogyny and profanities (you get to kill the guy that does it)
His sister's despicable ex shows up at Asriel's home. You get dinner.
“What?” Asirel asked curtly, picking up the phone.
His employee stammered, clearly taken aback by his harshness. Asirel was not usually this brash with the people working for him — being calm, collected, and polite fed his image better — but today his schedule was rather busy and he did not care to be inconvenienced by frivolous things. 
“There uh,” the employee cleared their throat nervously. He rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue impatiently. “There is a ‘Richard’ here to see you, sir.”
Asirel frowned, his eyes darting to his calendar. He had no meeting scheduled for today, least of all at his own home. “A what?” he huffed, distantly recalling the name being dropped in conversation before. 
Richard. It sounded familiar. His sister had talked about a Richard when they had last met.
“Send him up,” he said, placing down the telephone.
“Oh and Richard, that jock-type bad boy I was seeing?” she had said, waving her fork in the air between them as she got excited about spilling some tea. “He’s history. Never met a man that entitled in my life and that’s saying something considering the dudes I’ve met. Anyways—”
He had smiled fondly at her, continuing to eat the spaghetti as he listened to her talk about the cute woman she had met at the butcher shop. 
How had his sister’s ex found his way here?
The door to his study was thrown open violently, bouncing off the wall with a loud bang. A disheveled man stepped inside, not bothering with an introduction as he barged in.
He rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache forming. He did not have time for this nonsense or whatever the hell this Richard wanted. He could see you standing in the doorway, silently hovering by Richard’s shoulder as you took in the scene before you and gave Asirel a raised eyebrow. 
You looked both incredulous and amused. ‘Who’s he?’ you mouthed, pointing to the guy and chuckling quietly at his behavior. Most of all, you were shocked at Asirel for allowing it. 
He rolled his eyes at your question.
“Listen, man,” Richard said, slamming his hands down on Asirel’s desk and looming over him in an effort to appear threatening. Out of the corner of his eyes, Asirel could see you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. Impassively, he continued to look at the Buffon in front of him as you licked your lips in anticipation. 
Oh, today you would have a feast.
“Listen, I don’t know what that bitch told you” — Asirel blinked, expression unreadable — “but I didn’t do shit to her, alright? She can come off her fucking high horse and call me back, yeah? Damn man, tell a woman to suck you off once and she gets all pissy, right?”
Your mouth hung open in shock, eyes wide as you looked at the Richard guy. Shit, the tea was real. Shit, oh that guy was dead. 
“That whore can’t tell me anything, yeah? Fucking slapped me when I pushed her to her knees, you hear me? Can’t believe I took her out for dinner for that. See, I’m a nice guy, but sometimes sluts just piss me off.”
Asirel did not betray his thoughts. 
The silence in the study was thick, laden with tension that the guy only now seemed to catch up on. His slight panting was the only thing breaking the silence as Asirel pinned him in place with a look. 
Richard suddenly grew uncomfortable as he took in the room around him, catching up to the fact that he was standing in Asirel’s quiet but threatening presence, whose aura seemed to darken with every second he breathed in his company.
He chuckled nervously. “Right, man?”
You could not contain your laughter anymore, snorting as you heard the guy’s heartbeat pick up in a sudden surge of fear. “Can I?” you asked, giddy with excitement as you tried your best to give Asirel convincing puppy eyes. “Oh please, I am literally begging you.”
“Just one moment,” Asirel said, slowly rising and taking one of his overflowing binders to slap it down on the guy’s hands, successfully getting them off his desk as Richard jumped back. He stared into the confused and fearful gaze of the scum sullying the peacefulness of his study.
For a moment, he contemplated ending Richard himself. 
It would be an easy thing. Asirel could beat him to death with one of the iron rods he used to tend to the fireplace beside him. He could probably beat him to death with his bare fists as well, watch as the life left his eyes and the useless jerk went limp in his grip for daring to talk about his sister in such a way.
He could kill Richard. Draw it out and have his screams of pain echo through the mansion until he tore his throat to shreds and all he could muster would be a strangled plea for mercy that Asirel longed to deny him.
He could do all that if he wanted to. 
Taking a breath, Asirel sat down again. “You’re not worth the effort,” he said, returning to his papers. “Don’t make too much of a mess,” he added as you stepped up to the guy, making him jump as he felt your breath on his neck. 
“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, trying to take a step back. You took hold of him, pushing him to the ground with no effort. 
His death was quicker than you’d liked, but Asirel did say not to make too much of a mess and the screaming and desperate pleading was annoying both of you. 
“Think I need an aspirin after that one,” you said, wiping the remnants of blood from your mouth. You were quite proud of yourself. Not a single drop of it had stained the carpet. 
“Agreed,” Asirel said, shuffling his papers.
“On a scale of one to ten though, he was maybe like a three?” you said, snatching some papers from his desk and disinterestedly leafing through them. “Tell your sister to get in touch with tastier people next time.”
“I’ll pass on the request.”
You laughed, tossing the papers back to him. Asirel reassembled the stack with a groan. “He had some balls showing up here.”
“He had no brain,” he said, resting his head on his hand and looking up at you sitting on the edge of his desk. “What kind of idiot thinks it is a good idea to seek out me to insult my sister? That is insane.”
“People are insane sometimes,” you said, stretching. “So, any crazy ex I need to be worried about when it comes to you?”
“Certainly not.” 
He fished out an aspirin, passing you the container. You took it in amusement, relishing that Asirel had not caught up on your joke. He would grunt at his absentmindedness come morning when you reminded him that drugs did not work on vampires. 
“I’ve never had the time for a relationship. You see how work takes up most of my life.” 
You hummed, running a hand through his hair, which he quickly batted away. “Good thing you’ve got me then, boss.”
“That’s not what you should call me.”
“Oh, I meant to tell you, but then I totally forgot. Sorry about that,” his sister would say the next time he called to check up on her, “I gave Richard your address. He wouldn’t stop bothering me and I honestly couldn’t take it anymore. Also, I thought your little pet would appreciate a home delivery, my treat.”
“They told me his blood left something to be desired and that you should choose your partners more carefully from now on.”
“Really? Well they’re not one to talk.”
“Play nice.”
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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years
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How would the demon boys react to some random demon saying that they "went soft" while they were with MC? love your page btw x
Oh ho ho I see! This is going to be fun! And thank you, I love seeing everyone's support!
Lucifer:
Him? Soft? Impossible
The audacity that lesser demon had was almost respectable
But he wasn't going to let it slide
"Perhaps I've been too kind to beings like you, if you truly believe I've grown soft you won't mind me practising my new equipment on you-"
"Luci? What cha doing? I've been looking for you."
As soon as he saw you he didn't even realize the love sick expression on his face
The lesser demon snickered
He realized he didn't keep his mask up
They believed they were going to go free due to his embarassment
But they only made him grip the demons face tighter, his sharp nails digging into their flesh
"not right now, I'm currently putting a demon in their place-"
"oh okay! Don't take too long, you promised you'd help me go shopping, there was a really cute outfit and I don't want to miss it."
"yes, of course, now run along."
You kissed his cheek, thanking him for taking you out
He happily sighed
Quickly placing a kiss on your lips before you left
His head snapped back to the demon with a blood thirsty smirk
"where were we?"
Mammon:
Him?! Soft?! He's got a reputation to uphold!
Like his rep isn't already destroyed by being a bunch of witches servant
Whilst he is feared for his status as a demon, in general his rep is more 'famous guy who Everyone respects but will laugh at him at any given chance'
But Don't tell mammon that
So when a leaser demon says he's gone soft due to you he's insulted
He grabs the lesser demon by the collar, yanking them towards him, pulling down his shades just enough to show off his furious glare
"You're real bold for speaking up against me like that, I'm the avatar of greed! I can destroy your well being with just a slight influence-"
You came marching towards him, brows knitted
"Mammon!!!! Stop picking fights, you promised we'd go to cafe today, I even made sure we'd get matching couples items."
You shoved your phone in his face, showing off the link he sent you
He wanted to go to the cafe due to the couple's coupon and the fact you were allowed matching gifts you can buy
"You Damn human-! Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?! The great mammon needs to defend his rep!"
"you're wasting your time, the cafe is going to get packed if we don't go now."
He didn't budge, trying to counter you but you just raised a brow
You let have a few moments before Rollin your eyes
"I'm going without you."
"BABY NO!!! DON'T LEAVE ME-! I'M COMING I SWEAR!"
He immediately hugged you and was pouting, complaining you embarassed him
But he quickly forgave you when you kissed the corner of his mouth, reminding him he couldn't jump into trouble or else his grades will be effected
Lucifers orders of course
Levithan:
"I will summon Loton on you for even perceiving me!"
It was a bold move on the lesser demons part
And today the ocean demon didn't feel like being talked to by anyone so hearing this made it even worse
He raised his hand in the air, magic glowing at his finger tips
The lesser demon gulped, regretting thinking Levi would be easy to mess with
"Levi, don't summon Loton, we'll get in trouble."
He didn't even realize you were there nor did he notice you arrive
He pouted, lowering his arm and started quickly moving his arms as he spoke
"But they're saying I've grown soft! That's insulting to demons! Especially high ranking ones! It's basically saying I'm a loser!"
"As a high ranking demon, just ignore them~ you're just fine~!"
You didn't want to deal with getting levi out of trouble because he flooded one part of R.A.D so you went to save the confident lesser demon
You grabbed his shoulders, nuzzling your cheek on his
He wanted to push you away due to embarassment and the fact it was in public
But he couldn't help but do the same, squishing his face next to yours with a massive blush on his face
"You're not helping-"
"You're great, let's go back home and finish the game we were playing."
The lesser demon was spared.....for now
Satan:
Does he look like the type to go soft?
Sure he was normally a pleasant guy to be around but soft???!
Despite his charming smile and gentle peaceful presence, he was known for being the most aggressive out of his brother's
So some lesser demon saying he's soft? He wanted to just scoff and ignore it but it chewed at him
"Soft...? Hm, you won't be saying anything when I'm done with you, you'll be too busy crying and gurgling on your own-"
"There you are! I wanted to give the book you let me borrow back- am I interrupting?"
You looked between the cowering demon in Satan's grasp
His horns flickering in out and out, his expression immediately going soft when he looked at you
"yes but what did you think of the book? I thought the characterization of the main lead was the selling point of the whole thing."
"oh definitely but chapter 104 had the best arc."
Satan opened his mouth, removing one his hands off the other demons throat to point at the book but his finger curled
Deciding to not argue with you
"I'll have to debate you on that one - excuse me I need to finish it here before I can debate you on arcs, I won't be long."
You nodded, kissing Satan's cheek and gave the lesser demon a sympathetic look
The lesser demon couldn't enjoy their freedom for long as Satan turned back to them, snarling
Let's just hope he decides it isn't worth his time for that demons sake
Asmodeus:
"me? Soft? Honey, I'm never soft~ I'm always hard~!"
The lesser demon cringed
Asmo crossed his arms, deflating slightly as his joke didn't land
Sure he was offended Someone would call him soft
But it's not like really based his reputation as being some intimidating thing, he wanted to be loved and admired!
But being soft can get you disrespected
So something has to be done and asmo is known definitely by his brothers for getting physical when needed
"Don't look so disgusted, you do understand who you're talking to, right? The avatar of lust - I'm able to bring out all your desires, I know you like things rough so let me show just how violent i can get-"
"hey, are you done threatening-flirting? Whatever you're doing, I need help with some design choices."
You definitely didn't know what you walked in but the lustful demon was your best bet to go to
He was currently caging a lesser demon to a wall and harshly gripping their chin
You just wanted a second opinion on your clothing designs!
"I'll be right there! Can you hold on for a moment please?"
You nodded, sensing the angry aura coming off him
"sure, I got wipes in my bag incase you need them."
"you're wonderful, I love you~!"
He sent you a few air kisses as he smiled at you, you shook your head at his affection
You were thankful you didn't look back because as soon as you walked away you heard a scream
And you were pretty sure it wasn't a good one
Beezlebub:
The lesser demon sure had balls to approach this walking mountain
Was no one intimidated by jocks anymore?
They snarled and teased that he was going soft, expecting a reaction
But Beel just glared at them, his resting bitch face coming in handy
"don't talk to me."
It wasn't long before you found him, he was walking through the halls heading to the main door
"heyy Beel-y, What's up?"
"a demon said I've grown soft....have I?"
You blinked a few times, not expecting the question
You definitely didn't expect the Insecure look on his face
The closer you got to him he was definitely a softie, he was always gentle with you and is super kind
To you, he hasn't changed at all
"I think you have from what I've heard but I don't think that's a bad thing, you can still hold your ground and it just means you're letting yourself not be on guard."
"that makes me feel better, you always know what to say - I'm hungry, let's go eat."
You linked your arms with him, both of you smiling
"sure! I heard there's a nice dessert place opening up!"
Belphegor:
"I think you're talking to the wrong demon, I haven't grown soft."
Again, lesser demons are getting too gutsy towards these demon brother's
Belphegor has never woken up and not chose violence
Sure he was a big cuddle bug and sleeping most of the time
But he could be absolutely ruthless -In words and actions!
"Belphie, I'm heading to the study room, wanna join?"
You didn't really care he was about to go toe to toe with another demon
Knowing he was going to win anyway but you did want to give him a chance to get away
He was on thin ice and could be put on house arrest if he kept acting up and pranking people
"I'm in the middle of threatening Someone right now."
"Alright, don't go too crazy or else you'll get in trouble but I'll be waiting, I bought a pillow for you to sleep on~"
You tugged the pillow out of your bag, wiggling abit as you showed it off
You were already walking away before the sleepy demon could say anything else
He glared at the lesser demon
"I'll prove them wrong another time, too much energy wasted if I did it now."
He immediately went jogging after you, looping an arm around your waist and nuzzled his cheek on your shoulder
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0risha · 3 years
Text
RECOGNITION
series m.list
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PAIRING : sukuna x fem!reader
SUMMARY : when an exchange student comes to jujutsu tech, Itadori is set on finding out why the King of curses is so interested in you.
TAGS : fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, jjk anime spoilers, some curse words, reader is described as a black female
NOTES : i’ve read a couple of works where sukuna meets his reincarnated lover so I wanted to try it out too, hope you enjoy. was supposed to make progress with my wips but I was in a sukuna mood. (◕ᴗ◕✿)
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Sukuna feels your presence before he sees you. It’s one of those cliché moments where time puts its hand up to signal a standstill. Yuuji can feel it too when you pass by, your long braids swishing with each step.
He’s sure that he’s never seen you before but his shared body buzzes in remembrance. All the while, his emotions are overtaken by the unbridled feeling of wanting. 
After that, Itadori never took it upon himself to ask Sukuna about the matter because the curse didn’t seem to want to.
Sukuna had become more and more suppressed, his usual pop-ups were a rare occurrence, even when Megumi was around. However, for the whole month you’d been at Jujutsu Tech, the King of curses had been intent on observing from his throne of woven carcasses, body hunched over to just watch.
You’re an exchange student, Itadori recalls Gojo’s past conversation about a new second-year that would be coming from the states. You’re strong — at first, Itadori couldn’t help but think that this revelation was the reason for Sukuna’s interest —your cursed energy being perfect sediment for close combat and dealing precise blows, all the same, Itadori could feel a grappling hook of something that seemed to be festering.
It’s dark and brooding and it stirs every time you come into contact with him. And Yuuji thinks he might go crazy because he wants to know your connection with Sukuna and it’s not like he can ask you because your aura screams — unapproachable.
His chance comes when all the first-years are assigned to a mission, you're there for extra measure. Gojo’s shaman instincts telling him that this mission was far too exceeding for him, Nobara, and Megumi.
Though just as Gojo predicted, it goes terribly wrong and Itadori keels over with an empty hollow where his heart should be.
His last thoughts are consumed with a screeching mantra of his late grandfather’s words. In the crevice of his flickering mind, they're big bold letters that drip with poisoned regret.
Before his vision goes black, the last thing he sees is a heart-broken Megumi and your face which is flooded with guilt.
When Itadori comes face to face with the King of curses, the stench of rotting death overpowering his senses, he mulls over the terms laid out by Sukuna to come back, alive.
To be reunited with his friends and become some type of savior —sukuna's words, not his— he'd give up the reigns of his body so Sukuna could talk to you whenever he chose.
For the exchange of his life, the rules weren’t bad, a part of him knows that this selfish override could cause problems for you in the future, but he still agrees.
When he wakes up to a pure white ceiling and the smell of bleach he doesn’t expect to see you towering over him. Moving up to a sitting position, his cheeks nearly bleed red because he’s naked. His eyes frantically flit over to Gojo who’s sitting in the corner of the room, watching the exchange. The white-haired sorcerer shrugs in a ridiculed manner —silently telling Itadori that it wasn’t his problem.
“You called me,” your voice filters through the bright room. His eyebrows crinkle in confusion. Sukuna must've did something.
When his eyes flit back to you, he’s met with your monotone expression, your cascade of braids framing your face. And for the third time in his life, he’s scared. 
Your cursed energy, which for your level should leave little to no residual, is flaring with onyx undertones. Its sharpened jaws nearing closer and closer to Itadori in a beckoning manner. He's not sure why it's visible in the first place.
Gojo stays silent.
Brat, let me out. Sukuna, for the first time in weeks, pops up with a wide mouth on the palm of his hand. Without a second thought, Itadori allows him. 
Whilst wading in his domain of subconsciousness, he watches the exchange. Your expression stays the same as you study Sukuna’s marked face. 
“So hostile,” Sukuna bares, his powerful aura sifting through the room. You roll your eyes and crack a smile. Seamlessly ignoring the other man in the room— who you know Sukuna has a grudge with. 
“Am I not supposed to be?” you cross your arms and ask. “Being friendly would get me in trouble.”
“You remember me?” The King of curses cuts straight to the point, the question being so unexpected that Gojo shuffles in his seat, his spine rigid with anticipation. 
You nod stiffly. "I didn’t at first, not fully at least, but after coming into contact a few times, yeah.”
“It’s a shame I don’t have control over this body,” Sukuna presses a palm to your cheek, no doubt a loving caress. His deep baritone voice causing your skin to erupt into a turnpike for goosebumps to situate. “Do you remember how we parted last?”
“A sorcerer killed me or something,” you scratch the back of your neck under his intense stare. “Right through here,” you confess, pointing to the middle of your sternum.
“And you’ve become one?” Sukuna quirks an eyebrow, shoulders stiff with anger. 
“I didn’t even know I knew you until a month ago, calm down,” you wave in dismissal. Itadori takes note in the way Sukuna visibly relaxes, your words washing him in a bucket of warmth. “Is that all? I’ve got a mission in thirty minutes.” 
“I’m coming with you.” Sukuna jumps off the steel table, his bare feet touching the cool ground. You turn your eyes away from the bottom half of his body, ears growing hot in embarrassment.
“Eh? Is that allowed?” You turn to Gojo who’s still analyzing the situation beforehand and he shrugs with complacency. “Don’t let anyone see him,” Gojo warns, his stare serious even under his blindfold. You're not exactly sure what Gojo's thinking but you grasp the opportunity.
When you leave the autopsy room with a naked Sukuna by your side, careful to avoid any areas where Sukuna’s aura might be felt, you make it to Itadori’s dorm.
“Here.” You throw him Yuuji’s formal uniform and a pair of brown boots you find in the corner of his room. “I’m not wearing this,” Sukuna interjects.
“Huh?” Your upper lip curls up in confusion. “Then you’re not coming with me.” You turn to leave but he catches your arm in a tight grip.
“Fine, since you’re so damn adamant.” He releases his grip on your arm to slip into Yuuji’s clothes, when he finishes he turns to you with a glare.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his tattooed cheek.
Internally, Itadori’s too bewildered to tease the curse. In all of his time spent with Sukuna in his body, he’s never seen the King of curses voluntarily listen to somebody else’s demands. The murky water he stands in ripples as he sits to observe everything that’s transpiring. 
When you both reach the site you were assigned to, you sigh in annoyance. “What is it?” Sukuna asks, hands in pockets as he studies your face.
“I was hoping to have an easy day, they’re not dangerous or anything but there’s more than a dozen in there.” You point to the abandoned building, its steel beams bending with age.
“I’ll exorcise them for you.”  
This is going completely against this guy’s morals, Yuuji thinks. 
Your eyebrows fly to your forehead as you grow giddy with happiness. “Really?” You exclaim clambering up to wrap him in a hug.
“If you don’t let go, I won’t.” He grumbles, head in your neck while inhaling your sweet scent. 
“Okayyy,” you inhale, trailing off, Sukuna not too far behind. 
The exorcism is completed in fifteen seconds, tops. You stare in amazement at his lithe movements. His sharp fingers extinguishing cores with precise stabs— the same way he did his vessel. When he’s done he turns to you with an eyebrow raised, his hands wet with unspoken substance. You turn away with a humph. 
“Was it not fast enough?” He walks towards you, concern written all over his expression.
“It was too fast,” you proclaim.
“Huh?” 
“You’re a show-off,” you turn to exit the building, your braids whizzing past his face. You hear his roaring laughter behind you as you make it outside.
The smell of freshly churned earth enters your nostrils as you walk down a fenced sidewalk with bent daffodils. “Where are we going?”
“A ramen shop.” His gaze flicks over to study your face which is softened with what seems to be tranquility. His heart tides over with pride once he realizes that you feel content with him, a 1000-year-old curse.
However, he knows it’s the result of your memories that tie in with his; shared massacres and intertwined fates. Multiple restarts of what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of mingled hearts. But this time jump was different than the others. 
You being a sorcerer is not the only obstacle, at all.
“Sukuna? Hey– you’re spacing out.” You wave a hand in front of his face to grab his attention. 
“We’re here.” He looks up to see a small ramen shop, its logo old with age. As he enters the shop, he somehow finds contentment in being in a place that you like. 
“You know you’re probably attracting sorcerers and curses alike as we speak?” You inquire, grabbing your ramen bowl from the waiter who nervously glances at Sukuna. His tattooed face also attracting unwanted attention. 
“Mhm, I’ll just kill them if they interfere.” You whip your head to turn to the waiter who you’re relieved to see, had already left.
“I knew you’d say that,” you stuff your face with a handful of steaming noodles. 
“Sukuna?”
“Mhm?” 
“What’s gonna happen between us?” You flick your index finger back and forth. “It’s not like the other times, I’m a dedicated sorcerer.”
“So?” 
“You’re the King of curses, I’m a sorcerer.” You repeat, dropping your wooden chopsticks to place your head on your propped fist. 
“Already made a deal with the brat, I can talk to you whenever and wherever I want,” he pulls his face closer to yours. 
“Yeah? What happens when they execute Itadori?” You curl your hands into balled fists, an unfamiliar emotion welling up in your throat. Somehow, it doesn't fit. It crosses your veins in a parasitic manner and your eyes glaze over.
“I’ll just come back.” He states matter of factly, voice coated with arrogance.
“You promise?” You whisper, holding out your pinky finger. You nearly scoff at your own action.
Ignoring the finger you bare out, he presses his lips against yours. It’s the same as he can remember, centuries ago. His body elates with a hum of electricity. And it's as if his body's creating a second space of void in which he feels his every sense being sharpened; the smooth curve of your full lips and the salty taste of previous ramen.
But before the kiss can go any further, you're pulling back.
“That was uh…” You blink once, twice, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. When you look back to Sukuna, you instead are met with Itadori’s clear face.
“The hell are you doing, brat?” Sukuna bares his teeth on the right side of Itadori’s cheek. ”I- I’m sorry just got a little uh.. flustered.” 
“The fuck are you getting flustered for?” Sukuna growls. 
“I- uh..” 
“It’s okay Yuuji, you can switch again another time,” you sympathize with the boy. His cheeks are coated in red.
“It’s getting late, eat some ramen so we can go.” You chuckle. Itadori nods as his hand reaches towards a pair of chopsticks.
“Touch my ramen and I’ll kill you again, you damn brat.”
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studiojeon · 3 years
Text
bitterness in goodbye | jjk
this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)
| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-
contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.
author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕
words: 1.57k
playlist: honey by halsey
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Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 
As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.
Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.
Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.
Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”
Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.
Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.
You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 
Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.
You text Chaeryeong instead.
“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.
chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.
chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”
You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).
You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.
Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”
Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.
“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.
You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 
And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.
“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”
After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.
You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
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mochegato · 3 years
Text
Even the Losers
Chapter 19
Thank you guys for your patience!  I took a week of vacation to focus on relaxing and catching up on this fic but I’m a wife and a mom so that’s the exact opposite of what happened.  But I’m back now.  I still won’t have daily updates, but it shouldn’t be weeks in between anymore.
Chapter 1     Chapter 18
Marinette looked up at the Wayne Enterprises building, craning her neck in an attempt to see all the way up.  This was only her second time seeing the building up close and it was no less intimidating the second time around.  There was nothing inherently intimidating about the building. It was large and imposing, but that was the only characteristic that would be considered intimidating.
It was more a feeling, an aura, she got from the name, the history, the expectations and obligations that hit her every time she saw the building.  Like something was weighing down on her for just being in its presence.  Something pushing her away and pulling her in at the same time. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes never once leaving the building’s façade.
She almost jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Max asked quietly.  “We don’t have to do this today.”
Marinette shook her head, her eyes still pinned to the building.  “Yes we do. I’ve pushed it off too long already. At this point, I’m getting favoritism by not getting lectured for it.”
Max looked around to make sure nobody was listening.  “If it helps, I don’t think M. Wayne is the type to confront you at work.”
Marinette scoffed and gave him a pointed look. “That is exactly the type of man he is. Confront in a public place where it is likely to create a scene if I say ‘no’ and ask me to speak with him in a more private venue.”
Max gave her a small sympathetic smile.  “Bad time to mention that you appear to have similar approaches to confronting people who are avoiding you?”
Marinette glowered at him, but only slightly.  He wasn’t wrong.  She was usually the one doing the avoiding, but if she had to confront someone who was proving elusive, such as when she had approached M. Fox the first time, it was an approach she would take.  Didn’t mean she liked it.  Either the tactic or the similarity in thinking process… or maybe she did like the similarity.  It was a link to him.  A subconscious, constant, unchanging connection to her biological father.
“I just mean to point out that if you do think alike, then you can anticipate his next moves and plan accordingly.  You can use it to your advantage.  You’re Harry Potter to his Voldemort,” Max offered with a supportive smile.
Marinette blinked a few times before turning to him wide eyed.  “Did you just compare your boss, my biological father, to Voldemort?”
Max’s eyes widened in realization.  “I… no… I… what I meant…”  
He was cut off by Marinette’s laughter.  It took several minutes for the laughter, loud enough to draw the attention and gawking of employees passing them by as they made their way into work, to die down enough for her to eke out words.  “First a snake, now Voldemort.  The man cannot get a break.”  She wiped away the laughing tears from her eyes.  “At least nobody’s compared him to Umbridge yet, so there’s that.”
She finally settled enough to pat Max on the back, her expression still amused, a wide smile on her lips.  “Thank you, Max.  I’ll consider that.”  She turned back to the building and her bright smile dulled until it disappeared.
Max frowned at the change.  He was very familiar with Marinette’s anxiety, it was an integral part of who she was.  It had been since he first met her.  But he had yet to figure out how to get her out of it.  Alya and Adrien were always so good at getting her out of her head. What would they do?  Max stared at her while he tried to remember how Adrien and Alya responded to Marinette’s anxiety spirals.
They had already reached the front steps before he decided however they would respond that wasn’t him.  He pointed out facts then let people make their decisions based on the information. Then they might, or if it were Kim definitely would, make a stupid choice, but at least they had the information beforehand.  “If it helps, M. Wayne used to walk through the department twice a day.  But the last few days he’s only seen him in the afternoon, so I don’t think he will be there this morning.”
Marinette looked down, tapping her fingers together, avoiding his eyes.  She closed her eyes and mentally berated herself.  Why was she still such a coward?  Avoiding her problems as though that had ever made things better for her. Avoiding Luka after they broke up just made him feel terrible and made her feel like a horrible person.  And here she was doing the same thing, like she hadn’t learned a damn thing.  She needed to talk to M. Wayne eventually, she knew that, she just didn’t know what to say or how to make it better yet.
She finally looked up guiltily at Max.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just not ready to see him yet, I haven’t figured out what I want to say, so that does help, knowing I still have time.”  She let out a deep breath and squared her shoulders before making her way to the front door.
They slowly made their way to the elevator, focusing on each other and their path to the elevators, pretending like they didn’t see the people staring at her and whispering to each other.  Once they were alone on the elevator, nobody to overhear their conversation, Max spoke up.  “Maybe,” Max started quietly, “maybe, you don’t need to know what you want to say.  Maybe you should let him say what he wants to say and go from there.”
He looked up at Marinette, a slight furrow in his brow.  “From what you and Adrien said, it sounds like he may have some questions or may want to apologize.  You had the last word, perhaps it would be most appropriate and in spirit of the rules of conversation to allow him the first in the next conversation.”
Marinette nodded at his reasoning.  He was right.  M. Wayne likely had a lot of questions and she hadn’t exactly let him have a say in their last conversation, perhaps it was only fair to allow him to have his say this time.  She gave him a resolute nod and stood up straighter.  “You’re right, Max.  I should let him decide the next steps.  I decided the last ones.”
Max turned and shook his head.  “No.  That is not what I am saying.”  He looked her in the eyes for a moment before looking away and fixing his glasses.  “What I meant to insinuate is it doesn’t have to all be on you.  You don’t have to take responsibility for everything.  There are two people in the conversation, in the relationship.  You don’t have to take responsibility for moving either forward. He is responsible as well.  You shouldn’t take it all on your shoulders.”
Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it quickly, not entirely sure what she wanted to say to that.  She was saved from having to respond by the elevator doors opening.  She stepped off and turned to Max with a plastered on smile.  “Ready?”
Max looked down into his bag and raised his eyebrows at Markov as he stepped off the elevator.  Markov displayed down-turned eyes and a frown.  “Right, well,” Max started, much too loudly.  He stood up tall and adjusted his glasses as Markov flew up next to him.  “I promised to show you around the department.  Come on, they’ve made some great progress.  You should see the plans.  You might have insights on the different directions we’ve been considering.”
The tour was short, it wasn’t a large department, but extremely enlightening.  They were already making great progress.  There was a mountain of failed prototypes with in depth analytic reports on their development and why they failed, ways to change it for the next attempt.  There weren’t many employees in the department and they all smiled at Max and Markov as they passed and gave friendly nods. It seemed like nobody was upset that their former head of the department had been ousted and had welcomed Max with open arms.
“Ms. Dupain Cheng,” Lucius called out, making his way off the elevator and toward her and Max.  He smiled warmly at Marinette and clasped her hand between his to shake it.  “It’s been too long.”
Marinette chuckled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “It’s been like three days since we talked.”
Lucius grinned.  His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint that reminded her of the sweet older men who would come into the bakery and “flirt” innocently with her maman and her when she was older but then wax poetic about their wives, their entire faces brightening when their wives joined them. “Like I said, too long.” He chuckled along with Marinette and backed up a step.  “Thank you for meeting me here.  I trust Mr. Kante and Markov showed you around the department and pointed out your office.”
“They have,” Marinette looked at Max and Markov with a smile.  “It looks like they’re in good hands.  I don’t think I’ve seen Max this giddy since he got a tour of CERN.”
“That is great to hear.  And did he run over the different options we’ve been discussing?” Lucius motioned toward the white board and neatly stacked piles of reports on the tables next to the board.
“He did,” Marinette assured him, her face turning serious as she looked at the piles of reports.
“Very briefly,” Max added.
Marinette kept her eyes focused on the whiteboard, looking over the bullet points of their conversations.  “They are very ambitious plans.  It will certainly be a challenge for designing and a lot to consider.”
“In any way in particular?” Lucius prompted.
Marinette considered his question for a few moments and looked between Max and Lucius.  Max nodded to her.  She nodded back.  “If you're talking about changing the rigidity of the fabric, then I’ll need to consider how that will affect the shape.  If I have it molded to a person's body when it's soft, when it gets stiff it won’t bend the same way, so it’ll lose that shape. I’d have to figure out how to make it still work.  
“We should really discuss intentions for the clothes so I can design appropriately and we can make sure there is a market for the clothes.”  Lucius looked at her curiously.  “How large of a difference are you thinking?  Because the larger the difference, the more difficult to design, but also to wear.  Unless you have some way that you're keeping it in shape regardless of how rigid it is. So you need to figure out if that is an important issue for you or not.  Also, thread.”
“Thread?”  Max blinked a few times
“Thread,” Marinette repeated with a curt nod.  “The thread I use on say silk is a lot more delicate than the thread I use on jeans or leather.  Those materials are stiffer and harder and need thicker thread to hold them.  But I can't use thicker thread on things like silk because it weighs the fabric down too much and ruins the shape, so you need to think about the thread.  It needs to be something that can work with delicate fabric but will still hold without breaking when the fabric changes.
“Also color.  If you are going to change the fabric color, then the thread will likely have to change as well.”  She looked between the two men.  Max was staring toward the white board with the algorithms on it in contemplation. Lucius pursed his lips as he looked at the desk.  Marinette rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.  “But that’s just off the top of my head.  I can come up with more insightful once I’ve had more time to think.”
“That is quite a lot to consider,” Lucius nodded, finally looking back at her.  “Those are important points we hadn’t yet considered but will have to be incorporated immediately.  Thank you. I would very much like to discuss this further, but with more of the project involved and give you time to review some materials.  Would you be available on Monday?  That should give us and you time to prepare to discuss the options.”
Marinette frowned and pulled out her phone to see her calendar.  “That should work.”  She scoffed and waved her phone helplessly.  “I pull this out like I’ve been putting anything in my calendar on it.  We’re in Metropolis this weekend.  I should be back by Monday.”
“Monday it is,” Lucius agreed.  “Now that that is settled, I’d like to talk about logistics, setup, and ask a few questions up in my office.”  
Marinette’s smile immediately dropped.  She froze, her eyes widening.  “Oh… um…  That sounds…”
Lucius looked around the room to see who was looking their way and who might be listening in.  He lowered his voice until only she and Markov could her and leaned slightly closer.  “Mr. Wayne hasn’t been in before noon the last few days.  I happen to know he has asked his PA to reschedule his morning appointments for today as well.”  He shrugged and leaned back, keeping his voice low.  “No real importance to that information just that there’s nobody up there with whom I can drink tea and it is about tea time for me.”
Marinette let out a small breath and gave him a grateful smile.  “Thank you. I’d love tea.”
Lucius motioned toward the elevators.  “Shall we?”  He fell into step beside her.  “We assume you won’t spend much time in your office, but it is fully equipped in case you would like to use it or split your time.”
“Thank you,” Marinette nodded lightly.  “I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “Or what the contract would allow.”
Lucius grinned as he walked off the elevator on the executive floor.  “It is a partnership with a designer, not employment.  You are working with us, not for us.  As long as we can contact you and get the fabric to you, we will allow whatever you need, Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He nodded to Bruce’s PA.
“Mr. Fox,” Bruce’s PA called out.  “I wanted to double check that the new time works for your meeting today with Mr. Wayne.”
“Yes, Mr. Cortland.  The new time is fine.  I’ll be in my office for a bit.  Can you send someone to bring in some tea for us please?”  Mr. Cortland nodded and sat back down, picking up the phone to make the arrangements.  Lucius opened his office door and motioned for Marinette to enter.  After she had taken a seat at the small conference room Lucius watched her with a concerned look for a few seconds.  “So is the trip to Metropolis for business or pleasure?”
“A bit of both,” she smiled at him.  “Metropolis is one of the places we’re considering moving to so we want to look around and see if it’s some place we would like to live. Really, it’s just touring around the city.”
“You’re still deciding on where you want to live then,” he noted.
Marinette started to respond but paused when a man came in with a tray with a tea kettle and cups.  She thanked him and waited until he’d left before speaking more about her plans.  “We’re still thinking, yes.  We’re not extremely excited to live in New York.  Honestly, I think if we like Metropolis well enough this weekend, we might make the decision.  Assuming Adrien gets offered the position he applied for, which I am.”
Lucius nodded as he took a sip of tea.  He quirked his head to the side as he considered her answer.  “Metropolis is certainly more manageable than other options, workwise, I mean.  We could still have some in person meetings. Getting fabric to you would definitely be easier than say Paris, but we can push off making a decision on the logistics on that.  Until then, let’s make sure you have access to the network.  We’ll talk to Mr. Cortland about it when we’re done with our tea.”
Marinette smiled at him and took a sip of her tea. Lucius watched her for a moment, drinking more of his tea as well.  “You know,” he started slowly, “Metropolis is close enough, you could choose to live between there and Gotham and be close enough for both of you to commute, him to Metropolis and you to Gotham… if you wanted to base your company here.”
Marinette froze momentarily, her lips perched on the edge of her teacup.  She set the cup back down without taking a drink.  She stared at drink for a few seconds before shaking her head.  “I don’t think basing my operation in Gotham is a good idea,” she said quietly.  She looked up at him with a smile and immediately looked away.  The smile was supposed to be confident, quirky, not shaky. She took a moment to breathe and refocus.
“I’m trying to build my own brand without depending on M. Wayne.  I’m going to face enough criticism and skepticism as it is without setting up my company ten feet from his.”  She looked back at Lucius with a steely resolve.  “I’ll finish my contract to the best of my ability.  I’ll work with you in the future, not doing so would be business suicide, but I think a little bit of space might be good… for us both.”
Lucius gave her an understanding look.  He knew something had happened.  There was a reason Bruce was no longer coming in in the mornings and looked like Tim after a research bender when he finally did come in, like he had been up all night protecting someone.  But he had also seen Tim’s reactions to him, the disappointed, frustrated, annoyed looks and passive aggressive comments about communication. All of which means Bruce was brooding and not talking to Marinette about it.
He swirled the tea in his cup.  “You know, Bruce takes protecting those around him very seriously.  He’s lost so much and is terrified of losing more.  He’d give everything he has, everything he is, to protect someone he loves. But he also takes on all the guilt when he failed.”
Marinette sighed deeply and looked away, her eyes suddenly desolate.  “He told you about dinner,” she said quietly.
Lucius frowned at the implications of her statement. He’d guessed Bruce had started brooding because of the Riddler incident, but clearly there was something more going on. “No.  I didn’t know about dinner, I just know Bruce.  I know his guilty brooding.  I also know Tim and his disappointed anger at Bruce.”  He leaned in closer toward her conspiratorially despite her not looking at him, hoping it would still get a smile out of her.  “I’ve seen it a lot.”
He leaned back with a gentle smile.  “So I don’t know what happened, but I know Bruce feels like he failed you.  Which means he’s afraid of saying or doing something to make it worse, so he’s probably avoiding you, which is probably making it worse.”  He faced her with a frown.  “Because the worst thing in his mind is hurting you.”
Marinette continued staring at the cityscape outside the window and took a long sip of her tea.  “That’s an awfully proper and long winded way to say ‘he had a reason for being an asshole and you should excuse him for it.’”
“Well, I do strive to be proper,” Lucius chuckled mirthlessly.  “But I never said you should excuse him for it.  I suppose it's something that the rest of us have learned to accept about him.  We put up with it, but that doesn't mean you have to.”
“The problem is…” she quirked her lips as she sought the words to properly express her thoughts, “everyone keeps explaining why he acts the way he does as though that makes it okay, as though there’s some obligation on me because of it.  Like understanding it means I have to build a great relationship despite it.  But… there has to be trust somewhere in there too, doesn’t there?  Understanding, compassion, those are supposed to go both ways, aren’t they?  Everyone’s asking me to be more understanding, more forgiving, but nobody’s asking the same of him.  It isn’t supposed to be the job of the child to do all the work.”
“He does get asked to do that.  You don’t see it, but he is getting asked.  I assure you his other children are making their positions clear,” Lucius assured her softly.  “And I assure you he knows he isn’t doing what he should, but he is trying.”
Marinette scoffed.  “He’s shit at it.”  She took a long sip and watched some birds flying outside the window.
“I don’t disagree.”  Lucius fought keeping the amused tone out of his voice, but it was a hard fight.  “This whole situation is filled with everyone trying to do the right thing but failing… constantly, talking past each other, working past each other, sacrificing parts of yourselves thinking it will help, but it really just hurting everyone. It’s a comedy of errors.”
“Except it’s real life, and in real life it isn’t so funny,” Marinette whispered.  She stood up and moved to the window, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.
“No, it isn’t,” Lucius agreed softly.  He quietly rose up and stood next to her at the window, keeping his gaze focused outside the building.  “Real life is work.  Real life is hard.  Real life hurts.  Real life is less than ideal almost always.  This situation isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t have to be abysmal either. You can choose to make the best of it.”
“But what’s the best that this situation can be?” Her voice was so quiet Lucius almost didn’t hear it.
“That is up to you and Bruce to decide.”
“It’s not just us though, is it?” she noted quietly.
“This part is,” Lucius assured her.  “This part is just between you two.  Your relationship with your siblings is separate and you can work that part out with them.  One doesn’t have to affect the other.”  He chuckled lightly, his eyes unfocusing slightly as he remembered something.  “The other children have proved that well enough.”
She looked out to the skyline again, letting his words settle in, considering what they meant and if she believed them.  “How do you forget?  How do you move on?”
Lucius shook his head gently.  “Moving on isn’t about forgetting.  It’s about learning and adapting.”
Marinette finally looked over at him, her eyes pleading, looking more lost than he had seen her look before.  “But what’s my lesson?  What is it I’m supposed to learn here?”
Lucius’ lips turned up into a sympathetic smile. He laid a hand on her shoulder.  “I can’t answer that.”
She shook her head and looked out the window again. “Because the only thing I see so far is that I shouldn’t trust M. Wayne.  That I’m never going to be…” she sighed heavily and looked down.  She took another deep breath and looked back up.  “Weren’t there setup issues we had to resolve?”
Lucius stared at her for a few seconds, compassion shining in his eyes.  “Yes we do,�� he nodded lightly allowing her to change the subject.  He patted her on the back and encouraged her toward the door. “Let’s get you in the system so you have access to the building and a secure email.  We’ll order a laptop for you too so you can access the documents on the network.”
“Mr. Cortland,” he called out.  “Can you get Ms. Dupain Cheng set up with a secure laptop with access to the network and the basic programs installed, please?  And request an email for her.”
“Of course, sir,” David nodded to Lucius and started typing.
“Did you say Dupain Cheng,” a new voice spoke up. Marinette picked up on the excitement and interest in his voice with extreme apprehension.  Marinette whipped around to the new voice.  She looked over to Lucius to see how he responded.  Her shoulders relaxed when she saw his easy smile.
“Mr. Dowd,” he held his hand out to him, “it’s good to see you again.”
“Yeah,” Mr. Dowd gave him a bright smile. Marinette stared at him curiously. He was about her age and was too excited and happy to be an employee.  Not that the Wayne Enterprises employees she’d come across so far hadn’t seemed happy or excited about their projects, but they had a professional demeanor that Mr. Dowd didn’t seem to share.  “It’s always good to see you.  How’s Luke?”  He looked between the two of them though his eyes lingered on Marinette as if waiting until it was polite to start talking with her.
Lucius chuckled.  “He’s doing well.  He is supposed to come visit next weekend.  I’d like to say it’s because of me, but I believe he has a date or two planned with Ms. Gordon.  But let me introduce you to Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He motioned to Marinette.  “Mr. Dowd, this is Ms. Dupain Cheng.  Ms. Dupain Cheng, this is Mr. Dowd.”
Bernard rolled his eyes.  “Please call me Bernard.  I’m Tim’s boyfriend.  It’s really nice to meet you.  I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”  He held his hand out to her.
Marinette immediately relaxed and shook it.  That explained the excitement and interest. It wasn’t a random person wanting a scoop on the Wayne family, it was someone wanting to get to know his boyfriend’s family.  “It’s really nice to meet you.  I didn’t even know Tim was dating.”  Her eyes widened immediately.  “Not that he doesn’t talk about you!  I just haven’t had the chance to really talk to him yet.”
Bernard smiled at her for a few seconds.  He shifted back and forth on his feet awkwardly. Marinette opened her mouth to tell him she had to get back to work when Bernard spoke up.  “Hey, Tim and I were going to get lunch in his office.  Want to join us?  We were just ordering from the cafeteria because he has a meeting scheduled in like an hour.  We can add something for you.”
Marinette looked over to Lucius anxiously.  Lucius smiled at her and nodded in understanding. “We don’t have much more to finish, just waiting for the laptop to arrive.  There’s no reason for you to sit around and wait.  Go ahead.”
Marinette’s eyes widened.  That wasn’t what she wanted him to understand!  That wasn’t what she was trying to communicate to him. She hadn’t had really talked to Tim and every time they were close he froze up or got so tense she swore he was going to give himself a headache.  Spending time with him and his boyfriend while he acted like everything was okay wasn’t going to end well for either one of them.  She narrowed her eyes at Lucius.  She honestly wasn’t sure if he misunderstood the source of her anxiety or if he knew what it was from the start and decided to ignore it.
Marinette turned to Bernard with a forced smile but it relaxed into a soft smile when she saw how excited he was to spend time with her. “That sounds really nice.  Thank you, Bernard.  Please call me Marinette.”
“Awesome, Marinette,” Bernard’s grin was a brilliant as Adrien’s and Marinette couldn’t suppress the giggle that came out.  He led her toward Tim’s office.  “By the end of the day, I’m going to get you to let me call you Mari.  That’s the new goal for the day.”
Marinette tried unsuccessfully to suppress a snort. “And what was the old goal?”
“Prove the Miraculous team in France are actually fae,” he answered with conviction.  He looked over at her, his face somehow becoming even brighter.  “Hey, you’re from Paris, right?  Maybe you can help answer some questions for me.  This is perfect.”
Marinette stared at him wide eyed, frozen in place until Bernard looped his arm around hers and gently pulled her toward Tim’s office. Marinette chuckled and shook her head. She needed to record this conversation. Alya was going to die laughing.
Chapter 20
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taechaos · 3 years
Text
Freaky Idea
Pt. 2 of New Idea
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pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader
genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut
synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.
warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation
word count: 3.8k
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When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.
The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.
The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.
The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.
Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 
“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”
“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.
His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”
“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”
"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"
"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 
“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 
He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.
“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 
“The fridge is fucking empty!”
“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”
“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”
The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 
He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”
A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 
“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.
“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 
Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.
A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 
“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”
You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.
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Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?
“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 
“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 
“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”
He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.
“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”
“Deformed fetuses?”
“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 
“Are these real stories?” 
“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.
Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 
“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”
He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”
You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 
“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”
He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 
“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”
“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”
“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”
You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.
“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”
“Police intervention?”
“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”
“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”
“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”
“Ride you?”
“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”
“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 
“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.
“No…”
“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”
You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”
“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”
“You did it once!”
“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”
You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”
“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”
Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 
While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 
“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.
“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”
You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 
“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”
You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”
And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 
“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”
It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 
Could it be that you’re two of the same?
Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.
It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”
“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”
“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”
His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 
“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”
“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 
“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 
“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.
“What do you mean?”
“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”
“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”
Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”
It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 
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bigboomboi · 3 years
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Kindered Sparks
This is my entry for @gg9183’s soulmate collab - Oof, I was almost late for your birthday ( I know that I'm technically no where near late, but I put this out so much later than I would've rathered. Sorry, I'm a Virgo, mate.) Anyhoo! Happy Birthday! And congratulations on your amazing Milestone! Thank you for organizing this collab too and allowing me to be apart of it! Honestly, I love soulmate pieces so much, so I was so excited seeing this prompt (I'm excited to read the others as well!) My friend helped me put together an idea for a SM connection and I really enjoyed writing it, hope you do as well :) Happy reading!
Fem!reader x Denki Kaminari
Soulmates au; People are born with a dream realm connecting them to their Soulmate. Warning; harsh language, Hurt/comfort, pretty fluffy, cursing. Implied readerxfemale relationship. BakuKiri relationship (I got bullied last time I didn't say that was a pairing, so, just being safe)
Word count; 4.6K
“Another lonely night in this stupid world.” Y/N grumbled staring up at her dreamy night sky.
A sky she was supposed to share with someone else.
In this wonderful, bittersweet world, you were tied to another person. Destiny decided from day one of your birth who you’d be with for the rest of your life and then set you in a special plane of existence only accessible when you fell asleep, once you turned the ripe age of fifteen. The kindred-plane.
A place specially made for you and your soulmate to meet each night when you fall asleep. It was a place to get to know each other without the prying eyes of all those around. A shared dream land you could even decorate and make your own. It was your partner’s and your safe space.
It was a place you guys could explore together, where your imaginations combined like an amazing world of minecraft. Some people made completely different lives in their heads at night. Others used it to see their long distance lovers. Hell, there was a blog story sharing what sounded like a whole scripted tv show where a woman’s soulmate had set off to save her from an uncompromising kingdom.
Sadly though, your shared safe space could be destroyed in a matter of moments. It wasn’t unheard of for your soulmate to reject destiny’s plan and divide your dreams. You could absolutely reject your soulmate and quite literally lock them out of your dreams. All presence of them would disappear from your dreams within a few nights, sometimes even faster, and you’d be left alone with only your creations.
Of course, being divided from your soulmate hurt. But something hurt much worse.
Your soulmate being unintentionally stolen from you. A divide where you lose your soulmate despite neither saying they’d like to divide. A situation where your soulmate dies.
Y/N sighed at the reminiscent of her once was soulmate. So sweet and kind, someone Y/N fully imagined meeting one day in the daylight. Yet, now at the sad age of seventeen, Y/N had no dreams of ever seeing her soulmate ever again.
She only had the one year of memories they made…
“Class, This Y/N. She will be joining our class for her final year of hero training, treat her well.” Aizawa introduced her to the class of 3-A.
“Thank you, Sensei” Y/N bowed slightly. “Nice to meet you all.”
Not even a moment of silence was granted before the class erupted in questions. Half about her quirk, the other half about where she was from. A few off hand questions about why she transferred. All a mess.
“Enough!” Aizawa shouted, hushing the entire class. “You all can get to know her later, on your own terms. For now, Y/N please take your seat.”
Y/N nodded and scurried back to the only free seat in the back. Between a pretty pinkette and sweet looking round faced brunette. Before she was even seated, Aizawa began his lesson.
Y/N quietly sat through the classes of her day, ignoring the judging looks aimed her way, as the new girl. She could hear the quiet whispers going around, speculating what type of person she was and tried to ignore those as well. She was well aware of the fact that she appeared very off-standish.
Dark eye bags, complete resting bitch face that quite literally screamed ‘I will stab you with a pencil if you speak to me’, earbuds tucked into each ear and a hunched over form that could rival Quasimodo. Thankfully, the aura she set into place actually warded off her new classmates for several days.
Up until a week later in the common room where her bubble was invaded.
She didn’t look up at the person sitting next to her and subtly tried to turn up her music. She felt the presence of several others join her and they all stared at her silently until finally, the pinkette she sat next to on her first day, plucked her book from her hands. Y/N slowly looked up at her dully and raised an eyebrow.
She reached out for her book, but the girl pulled it back out of her reach. She tried again, reaching forwards further, but the book was yoinked by a strip of tape, pulling it across the coffee table. Gritting her teeth slightly, Y/N stood up to reach across the table and the music in her ears paused.
The girl had unplugged her headphones.
“You just have no regard for personal belongings of others, hm?” Y/N sighed, sitting down.
“We just want to get to know our new classmate!” The pink girl grinned. “I’m Mina!”
“Hi, Mina. Now give me back my shit.” Y/N tried to grab her phone, only for someone behind her to tug her ear buds away. “Seriously?”
“We’ll give you back your things if you let us get to know you.” Mina smiled.
“Or, you could just give it back.” Y/N tried to grab her earbuds from the bright blonde behind her.
“Nope.’ He said, a grin on his face as well. “I’m Kaminari Denki, nice to meet ya, beautiful.”
Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes. “Or, I could just take my stuff back.”
“You could but there’s five of us and one of you, good luck.” A bitch faced blonde mumbled, flipping through her book.
“Fine. Here’s one thing about me.” Suddenly she appeared behind the bitch blonde and snatched her book. Another one of her appeared behind the one who taped her book away and grabbed her book mark. Two other Y/N’s came into existence on opposite sides of her seating couch to grab her phone and ear buds. All while the original Y/N sat in her place. “Don’t touch my things.”
“Woah, you can make multiple you’s!” The redhead gasped excitedly. “That’s so manly!”
“That’s so cool! They feel so real!” Kaminari said, poking the side of the one near him. It yelped and swatted his hand.
“They are real! Don’t poke me, I’m ticklish!” Y/N snapped, rubbing her side.
“Woah, can you feel this?’ The tape one reached out to pinch the clone’s arm.
Y/N’s other clone smacked him with her book. “Yes, I can feel that! Ow!”
“So your quirk is duplicating yourself? Boring…” Bitch face rolled his eyes, another Y/N appeared behind him and swatted the back of his head.
“My quirk is omni-replication. I can create continuous versions of myself and others. But they can act on their own.” Y/N sighed, bringing herself her book.
“Woah, make another me!” Kaminari grabbed her arm.
“G-Get off of me!” Y/N shoved him away, ignoring the literal spark between them. “I can’t make one of you now!”
“But you just said-.” Mina tried.
“I have to know your ins and outs. Otherwise I’d just make a weird melty blob of you.” Y/N sighed. “I need to know more about you guys before I can make you. I need to know you, how you fight, how your quirk works, I need to know how to play the game before I can participate.”
“So, what I’m hearing is…” Mina smirked. “You need to get to know us to succeed.”
“Oh god…” Y/N groaned. “I have no choice in this do I?”
“We have a specialty of making friends with people that don’t want to be friends.” The red head threw his arm over bitch face’s shoulder.
And thus a new friendship was born.
“Bakugo, why do you keep moving my pillow in our dreams, it’s so not manly.” Kirishima whined.
“Neither is the massive rock sitting in the middle of nowhere, dude.” Bakugo argued.
“It’s not just a rock.” Kirishima mock sniffled. “It’s a boulder.”
Y/N snickered at the reference that earned the kind redhead a smack to the back of his head. “Are you delivering pizza on it?”
“Yes!” Kiri grinned.
“No! Don’t encourage him!” Bakugo shouted.
“Aye, don’t shout at me. Your boyfriend is a literal rock, he’s encouraging himself.” Y/N laughed, throwing a fry at him.
“Oh yeah, what trash has your soulmate cluttered in your dream world?” Bakugo argued back.
Y/N’s laughter silenced and immediately her lips curled into a scowl. A light switched on and they remembered the one rule they had set in place. No one talks about Y/N’s soulmate. Or lack thereof.
“Bakugo!” Mina snapped.
“Shit, I didn’t-.” Y/N didn’t give him the time to apologize and stood up from the lunch table.
“Wait, no, Y/N! He didn’t mean to!” Kaminari grabbed her arm.
She flicked him in the forehead and pulled away. “No, it’s fine. You guys talk about your soulmate shit, I’m going to the training field.”
“Wait, Y/N, really!” Mina tried. “It’s just, we’re so used to casually talking about it!”
“I don’t care if you guys talk about yours, but you know I don’t have one, so we don’t bring up mine!” She huffed, before taking a breath. “You know what? Never mind.”
Y/N ignored her friend’s protest and stomped out of the dinning hall. She rushed to the training area, stopping by the locker room to change and grab gear, briefly.
Activating her quirk she began fist fighting her clone, taking her anger out on herself. Very early on into her friendship with the group she told them she didn’t want to talk about the soulmate shit. At least not her own. She told them she didn’t have one, leaving them to believe she never did.
They were incredibly understanding after they found that it upset her. So much, to the point that she copied Kirishima to punch himself when he kept asking. After that ordeal and several days of being ignored, they respected her wishes of not bringing it up.
She knocked herself down and punched herself in the face. She turned off the connection to the clone so she wouldn’t feel the pain herself. Disconnected clones only had a few minutes to live really and faded away with enough damage. Once that one faded, she created another in its space and continued pounding away.
“Stupid soulmate bullshit.” She huffed each word with a punch. “Stupid divide rule.” Another clone. “Stupid. Fucking. Erg- Everything!”
Y/N beat her final clone to death and didn’t bring a new one out. She sniffled, the tears she’d been holding back for years now finally breaking her dam. She hated the horrible lonely feeling she had been surrounded by for so long. She missed out on so much sleep, just to avoid going to her dream world. She set alarms to wake her up every hour or so to stay away from it and at this point, she was losing her mind.
She cried more thinking back to the last time she had been in her kindred-plane. She’d avoided it for a few days before exhaustion actually hit her like a bus and made her sleep. This time her plain little dream seemed to have adopted new items in her absence.
A bundle of comic books, a guitar, even a really, really big pikachu plushie.
Not that they were placed anywhere in particular. The guitar was outside of the little home she had reimagined, laying haphazardly on the ground. The pikachu was placed in front of a tree, facing it and the books were strewn across her loveseat couch. It was like her dream realm had become a lost and found for thrown away items from other planes. Which, honestly, Y/N could believe, as she didn’t use it so much.
She wished she could just give away her realm and dream of nothingness.
“Y/N?” She jumped, hearing her name and quickly wiped away her tears, ignoring the way they stung her open knuckles.
“Kaminari, I’m not really in the mood to talk.” Y/N muttered.
“Okay, that’s fine. We both know I talk enough for the both of us.” He joked, coming to sit in front of her.
Y/N turned to look away from his seating and ignored him, but he set off into a spiel about a new game he got. He did what he did best when one of his friends were upset, he talked. And normally that worked, but minutes into his yabbering, she started crying again.
“Hey, no! No crying! Crying is sad!” Kaminari tried.
“I am sad Kami!” She snapped. “I am really fucking sad! Everyone gets to have stupid fucking soulmate but me! And all because mine fucking died!”
Kaminari immediately paused his frantic attempts to calm her. “Huh, I thought you said you didn’t have one?”
“I don’t because she died! My god damn soulmate died literally months after meeting each other damn it!” Y/N yelled, sinking her fingers into her hair. “And now my kindred-plane is empty and lonely and shit keeps getting piled into it like a fucking trash can!”
Kaminari was silent for a moment while she cried. He slowly crawled over, closer to her and pulled her into a hug. This wasn’t a moment for talking randomly and he knew that. So they sat for the rest of the lunch period in silence, save for her soft hiccups.
After that, somehow, Y/N started talking to her friends the next day. She rationalized that it wasn’t their fault she was sensitive about the subject, they didn’t deserve the aggression. So with a tense apology, she was back to sitting with them at lunch and hanging out.
Y/N was determined to not let her disrupted dreamland destroy her outside reality.
“Okay, really?” Y/N blinked at the ugly rug that appeared draped over her bookshelf. “How the hell did you even get there?”
She tugged it down and stared at it in disgusted contemplation. “Guess you get to go in front of the fireplace…”
Y/N walked towards the warmth and paused, noting that it felt like it took a few more steps than usual. She looked around and found that the picture she carefully centered on the wall was no longer centered. Was her house getting bigger? More and more shit was popping up out of nowhere and her place felt spaceyer…
“What the actual fuck universe?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and laid down the new rug.
An odd whooshing noise sounded behind her and she turned around to see a lamp fizzled into existence, a hand accompanying it this time. Y/N fumbled over own feet trying to hurry and grab it. Someone was putting shit in her realm and she was about to find out who.
Actually she wasn’t.
The moment she grabbed the hovering wrist, it was like she had rubbed her socks across her new rug a million times and then touched an outlet. The hand shocked her, hard. She yelped and fell backwards on her butt, accidently taking the lamp down too, except when it fell apart it fell backwards toward the floating hand and disappeared from her plane.
Y/N gasped sitting up out of her bed, the shock kicking her out of her own dream. “Ow, what the hell?”
Y/N looked over at her clock, finding that it was five in the morning. She sighed and climbed out of her bed, grabbing her ear buds and phone. There was no school the next day, it was Saturday so she aimed to sneak down to the common room and spend her day dead on the couch, fighting off sleep again.
Not ten minutes after snuggling into a comfy spot on the couch, it dipped slowly as someone sat on the other end of it. She looked up from her book, to find Kaminari on the other end. He held up a bag of doritos in exchange for her company.
“What are you doing up?” She asked, pulling out her ear buds.
“Got startled awake by something in my dream world.” He answered, holding the bag out to her.
“Ah, that sucks.” She hummed apologetically.
“What about you?” He asked carefully.
Y/N snorted. “Kami, you know I don’t sleep.”
“Yeah, I know, but you’ve been up for the past few days.” He sighed, remembering seeing her in the kitchen at three am. “You’re going to trash your health if you don’t sleep.”
“Eh, it’s alright.” She crunched on a chip, before yawning. “Plus, you stay up every night gaming, bite me.”
“Gladly.” He winked. “But seriously, a lonely dream realm can’t be all bad.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was going to continue this topic of conversation. And he did. “I mean mine’s pretty lonely and I think it’s alright.”
“What?” She furrowed his eyebrows.
“My kindred-plane has but just me since like, forever, and I don’t think it’s that bad.” He shrugged.
Kaminari didn’t have a soulmate? That didn’t make sense, he’d tell them about all the adventures he’d run on in his dream. “You said you were helping some Jill girl fight zombies and stuff, just the other day.”
“Yeah, Jill Valentine. From Resident Evil.” He laughed. “I figured out a long time ago that I could just make her up in my dreams if I played the game until I fell asleep. She’s not my soulmate-.”
“You don’t have one…” Y/N whispered, sitting up.
“Nope, never did.” He offered her more chips, but Y/N just looked at him with sad eyes.
She cried in his arms about her soulmate dying and it turned out he never had one in the first place. “Don’t look so sad, Sunshine. It’s okay.”
“Denki, you don’t have a soulmate. That shit sucks.” Y/N flailed her hands.
“Yeah, but at least I didn’t get attached to mine and then they died. That sucks even more.” Kaminari argued.
Y/N slumped back against the couch. “This soulmate business is quite literal shit.”
“Yeah, but other people are pretty happy with it, so it’s okay to me really.” Kaminari hummed, nonchalantly. “Plus, no one can yell at me for my taste in decorations. That can really make or break a relationship ya know.”
Y/N laughed. “Oh yeah, totally. If my soulmate tried to decorate our space with half the shit that seems to appear in my room I’d have to throw hands.”
“Stuff appears in your dream?” Kaminari asked. “What, like, someone’s statue of Scooby doo?”
“Kaminari Denki, please tell me you don’t have a statue of Scooby doo in your kindred.” She tried not to laugh.
“No!” He said quickly. “I have a statue of Scrappy Doo.”
“Oh my god, no, you don’t!” She gasped.
“Yep! There’s a pond in front of my house and he’s in the dead center of it.” He grinned proudly. “And he looks amazing there.”
“Oh I bet he does.” Y/N snickered. “Bet he pulls the whole place together.”
“As a matter of fact he does.” Kaminari declared smugly. “What about your plane? What’s one big special thing you’ve got in it?”
Y/N hummed and thought for a second. “There’s a really big oak tree just behind my house and it’s covered in string lights, with a small ladder up the trunk. There’s a flat area in some of the branches so I can sit up there and read.”
“That sounds beautiful.” Kaminari said, fondly. “I have a tree kind of like that in mine too.”
“Does yours have a massive Pikachu in front of it?” She taunted, laughing.
She just barely missed the furrowing of his eyebrows before he answered. “I’m not entirely sure, I think, I’d have to take a look. I hope I do though, otherwise, I’d have to come steal yours.”
“Absolutely not! He’s my friend!” Y/N gasped and shoved at his leg. “Stick with your Scrappy Doo statue.”
Kaminari smiled. “Fine, fine. But if I don’t have a Pikachu in my dream, you owe me.”
“Mmhm, sure.” Y/N grinned.
For the next few months, Y/N and Kaminari grew closer, having bonded over their lack of soulmates. While they grew closer, not only did Y/N become happier, her kindred-plane seemed to get brighter, despite all the random things finding purchase in her realm and the fact that it was still growing. It was nice, she didn’t hate spending the night there anymore. She didn’t run into the disembodied hand anymore, but that was okay.
With what was happening in reality, she wasn’t too bothered by her dreams anymore. Instead, she focused on her friends, they were a wonderful reminder that life didn’t go to complete shit. For the first time, she actually let these people get close to her and drag her out of her hole she kept herself in.
… And out into the living room to watch the boys yell at each other over Mario Kart.
Y/N cursed and pushed Kaminari’s face away from her own as he laved his tongue across her cheek. “Denki, I swear to god if you don’t stop licking me, I’m going to bite you!”
“Ooh! Promise?” He flirted, smirking. “What else are you gonna do with that mouth?”
“Hurt your feelings, Sparkler boy.” She laughed, squishing his cheeks.
Kaminari threw himself into her arms, taking her to the floor. “So mean, I thought you loved me!”
“Oh yeah, she totally loves you with the way she made you beat yourself up today.” Bakugo snickered.
“Yeah, dude, she used your quirk against you better than you.” Kirishima pipped up.
“Hey, hey, clones don’t get fried when they use their ultimate! They just disappear and another one pops up!” Kaminari argued in defense.
“Jesus, Denki, you’re heavy!” Y/N shoved at his body, half heartedly. “Get off, you loser.”
“Uhg, fine, only because I have a race to win.” He rolled off her, to grab his switch controller.
“Oh thank god, I was going into the light for a second there.” Y/N gasped, dramatically.
Kaminari pinched her leg in retaliation. “Hey, I’m not that heavy!”
“Your head is though.” She stuck her tongue out.
“So mean.” He pouted as she turned to lay her head in his lap.
Y/N giggled as she pulled out her phone, to scroll through Tumblr for a fic to read. Moments went by before a snapchat notification popped up. Tapping on it, she found a common message from Mina.
‘You guys are too cute.’- Pinkiepie
‘We’re just friends, Mi.’-Y/N
A snap picture appeared in their feed and she tapped it open. There she was laying in Kaminari’s lap and there he was looking down at her, sweetly. ‘He’s giving you major heart eyes.’- Pinkiepie
‘Stop taking pictures of people, it’s stalkery.’- Y/N
‘That’s why you took a ss.’ -Pinkiepie
‘Oh fuck off.’- Y/N
‘Oh come on, just give him a chance, neither of you have sm’s so your not stealing him from anyone.’- Pinkiepie
‘You’re*’- Y/N
Y/N sighed and looked up to Kaminari’s face above hers. It apparently hadn’t been uncommon knowledge that Kaminari was Soulmateless, probably why the group had been so confused as to why she was so upset about it. It was normal to them, because it had always been Kaminari’s story.
Would it be so bad to make her own soulmate? Most divided soulmates stayed by themselves for the rest of their lives, but would it be alright if they didn’t?
“Oh, guys! I meant to tell you; I think I actually do have a soulmate!” Kaminari blurted into the air.
His admission quite literally derailed the entire room. Bakugo drove off the map in Mario Kart, Kirishima completely looked away from the game and Mina choked on her spit and her eyes flew to Y/N who paled significantly.
Sero was the only one who appeared unaffected. “Guys, he’s probably just saying that to throw us off, he’s in last.”
“I’m gonna blow you up, you put me in fourth with your little stunt.” Bakugo threatened.
“No, I’m serious!” Kaminari argued. “Over the last few months my dreams have been changing and stuff. Like it was making room for another person. My house is super spacy now, new decorations have been showing up for no reason, like there was a vase of flowers on the floor near my door, and my curtains changed colour, they’re a cute lavender colour now. Plus there’s a really big pikachu next to a beautiful oak tree in my yard.”
“Woah, dude, really?” Kirishima paused the race and turned to his friend.
“Yeah, totally.” Kaminari nodded, subtly looking down to meet Y/N’s wide eyes. “I was super confused for a while.”
“Holy shit, you’re serious.” Sero laughed. “Have you met them yet? Or are they just leaving surprises for you?”
“Well, I’ve seen her a few times, but I haven’t got the chance to talk to her yet, she wakes up pretty fast.” Kaminari shrugged.
“That’s so good Denki, I’m so happy for you.” Mina said softly as Y/N sat up.
“Me too, Denks. But speaking of waking up, I’m tired, so I’m gonna go take a nap.” Y/N hummed, yawning.
“Okay, see you later, Y/N.” They all chimed as she walked away.
“Yeah, see you later.” Kaminari called, carefully.
Y/N tried her best to contain herself and all but ran to her dorm. Along the way, her phone buzzed, no doubt a message from Mina. Once she was in her room, she flew to her bed, never had she been so eager to fall asleep before.
She quickly responded to Mina, ensuring her that she was alright and actually wanted to sleep. Y/N even sent her a reassuring picture of her smile with a short caption ‘I’m off to go see a Pikachu.’ After that, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, but it was too long.
Y/N blinked open her eyes, finally appearing in her kindred-plane and spun around, trying to identify things in her dream house. She hurried to open the door and looked over to her tree, with the ever so famous Pikachu there. She turned and jogged in the opposite direction for the one thing she needed to see to make sure she was correct.
There it was. Scrappy Doo. In the middle of her pond.
Y/N jumped up and down, squealing to herself. It was happening, oh my god, it was happening. Now she just had to wait.
And wait she did. She had run back to her tree and climbed up to sit and await her soulmate. The soulmate she actually had again. Someone to share her dream world with again.
She had a soulmate.
Quietly for the next hour, Y/N sat and read one of her books, waiting almost patiently for him. She’d made it through the third chapter when a voice startled her away from the pages.
“Sorry, I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me.” Kaminari said, smiling.
Y/N bit her lip and grinned. “I thought you missed my cue for a bit there."
"No, I was just a little too excited to fall asleep." He crawled up into her tree nook. "You see, I suddenly got a new person roaming my world almost like, uh, a forever person or something. What's it called?"
"Mm, I don't know. Kinda sounds like you've got a soulmate there, Denki." Y/N whispered as he came closer.
"Fucking finally." He muttered, leaning forwards to connect their lips.
But before he could make contact he ran into her hand first. “But, really, we are going to have to talk about your decorating choices.”
“Yeah, yeah, we can talk about that after this.” Kaminari chuckled and moved her hand to kiss her.
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thebadboyfanclub · 3 years
Text
Lamb For Slaughter (Aro Volturi x Reader)
So I finally found out how to put a tittle through my phone so we are back in business babies. This was requested by anon, Enjoy!
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Bella and (Y/n) have been inseparable since she arrived in Forks, she was the one that helped her feel comfortable and welcomed the most out of everyone. She understood that Bella was not used to people taking into consideration how she felt or what she wanted, so (y/n) felt like it was necessary and helped her grow a bit of a backbone.
However, all her work went out the window when her boyfriend Edward left her. She became miserable, depressed and refused to heal from the heartache, (y/n) was a few years older than Bella so she had a grasp of how a break up at that age could make you feel lost and misunderstood so she remained a vague help in the shadows, trying to help Charlie in this process.
"Never in a million years I thought I would end up in this type of situation"
(Y/n) said to Alice as they walked towards the big entrance of where the "vampire royalty" lived. Alice gave her a ghost of a smile and it took no genius to see that she felt particularly nervous.
(Y/n) felt no empathy for her, especially now when in just a span of an hour she found out vampires existed, that they were vampires and apparently they were in trouble at the vampire police? She wished she was dreaming or joking yet they were no sight of cameras and she vividly remembered waking up from her nap hours ago.
As Alice effortlessly opened the big and what looked like quite a heavy door,only to be met by two tall strange men dressed in black, a shirtless Edward and a slightly disheveled Bella.
"Hello Demetri, Felix"
Alice greeted them as she took off her sunglasses. The two men looked at (y/n) with surprise before smiling.
"Another mortal, Aro won't be pleased"
"She has nothing to do with this"
Bella defended her as (y/n) tried to look confident under their gaze, she felt like she was under a microscope and most importantly that her life was at risk.
"Aro will be pleased, she is here for a reason"
"Am I? And if I am then what is the reason?" (Y/n) thought, still choosing to remain silent and observe the scene.
Before Alice could answer a young female voice was heard in the distance.
"Enough"
"Jane"
Edward was heard in a very shy and almost scared demeanor that made (y/n) hands get sweaty. As the extremely young girl approached and took off her hood you could see her red hues glistening that brought shivers in (y/n)'s spine.
"Aro send me to see what's taking so long"
At that they all silently followed the girl like sheep followed the leader. She could feel that something was not going to go well at the pit of her stomach yet she couldn't understand what would happen next.
As Jane opened the doors she was met with three men sitting in chairs a few steps higher than the marble floor, certifying their distance and higher standards than the others that walked in.
As soon as she walked in she felt tense and under a spell, the air felt stuffing like she could not take another breath or her lungs would explode.
"How wonderful, Bella is alive after all, isn't that wonderful? I love a happy ending, but they are so rare"
A man with long black hair and extremely fair complexion approached them, he seemed like the leader since his chair was more out front. He was firstly walking towards Edward but before he could fully stand in front of him the man froze. He had a strange aura surrounding him, made (y/n) get very hyper aware of her surroundings when they locked eyes.
"And… who is that?"
He asked in a high pitched yet kind of child like voice, it was disturbing to say the least. His entire presence resembles a lunatic to her yet he seemed very intrigued by her.
"That's (y/n) she is a friend"
"Friends, what an amazing bond to have. Allow me to introduce myself then dear (y/n)... I am Aro"
He said as he extended his arm to her. She gave him hers and he placed a slight kiss on her palm, his hands felt like solid ice against hers. Aro took a deep inhale of her scent that made him feel like his lungs were on fire and her blood was the antidote.
"Aaaaahh quel dolce profumo" (that sweet smell)
He said as she took her hand back in a swift motion. Bella was trying to understand what was happening while Edward felt torn between what was the right thing to do in this situation.
"I don't understand"
"Of course you don't dearest, do not be afraid of me, I want to protect you"
Aro reassured her yet she didn't feel relaxed, quite the opposite actually. As her eyebrows furrowed Alice pushed her a bit closer to Bella.
"What is going on?"
"Il mio cantante" (my singer)
"Can you stop with the Italian? And somebody please explain this to me"
She grew frustrated as her voice became louder. Alice decided that it was time someone helped (y/n), mostly because she felt bad, she saw what could happen if Aro saw her. She could help them survive 
"You are Aro's mate, like Bella is to Edward"
"Excuse me?"
She could not believe it. There was no way her fate would be this crazy man that stood before her, it was baffling to her.
"There must be a mistake here"
"I'm wounded dear, I could give you the world"
Aro said without showing a hint of emotion. In his mind this was the most marvelous news, there she stood, his true second in command and he was sure she would make a great one. Another diamond for his coven
"Edward, what is going on?"
"I'm afraid Alice is right (y/n)"
"No, I'm not going to stay here. I have a life of my own"
"Unfortunately dearest I can't possibly let you go now, you belong here"
"I belong where my heart wishes and trust me my heart wants to get out of here"
"That could be arranged"
The blonde hair man that sat in the back silently watching hissed at her. At this point (y/n) fell in survival mode and if it was this strange man who could be her punching back then so be it.
"I'm not talking to you fu-"
Alice did not allow her to finish her sentence. She clapped her hand over (y/n)s mouth and pulled her back for everybody's safety
"It's for your own good"
Alice whispered in her ear while Aro went into a laughing fit. Alice freed her one (y/n) looked a bit more calm and less dangerous.
"She has a fire in her, you will be one of my greatest additions"
(Y/n) hasn't felt this helpless in ages, she valued her free spirit and the need to feel alive by choosing her fate at her own time. Now she was standing on a dead end that others forced her in.
"You knew about this? That's why you brought me here? Like a lamb for slaughter"
She turned to Alice, the feeling of betrayal written all over (y/n)s face. She didn't understand why Alice insisted in her tagging along but now it all made sense, she was a simple sacrifice for her beloved brother.
"It's not like that-"
"Okay, explain then"
Alice started looking around as her scattered thoughts did not help her to come out with an explanation to justify her actions.
"I'll stay here, just let them go please"
(Y/n) stated as she focused on Aro. She could sense what her future meant for her, she would become like them, eternally young.
"The girl knows too much, she is a liability"
The blonde one threw his two cents in. Even though she was caught in this because of them she felt pity for them, she saw first hand how Bella had become because of Edwards absence. 
"Consider this as a deal, I won't put a fight on anything you need me to do but they will leave unharmed. Bella will become a vampire eventually"
"This is a rare occasion, however I feel charitable, take them away demetri. Would you like to say goodbye to your friends?"
Aro asked her. She felt he back tense up at those words, an ironic smirk painted her lips
"Friends? What a funny word."
Aro instructed Demetri to take them away with a simple hand motion while (y/n) felt tears cloud her eyes. As she heard them walk away Aro came closer to her and placed his hands on the sides of her face in a way to soothe her. His coldness reminded her for what's about to come, making her legs tremble.
"You'll be safe here dearest, you don't have to worry about anything"
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realcube · 3 years
Text
 CRYBABY (1 / 2) | tsukishima k
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♡ alt fluff ending (1 / 2) of jealous — alt angst ending ( 2 / 2 )
♡ tw crying, unspecified injury, reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, swearing, rude nicknames & set in a hospital 
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“Kei, hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”
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tsukishima felt like shit. he woke up with a splitting headache, which was only worsened by the bright beam of the LEDs which hung right above his hospital bed. it took him a few moments to become fully conscious but when he heard the irritating beeping of the ECG, his first coherent thought was, ‘wow, i can’t believe a fist fight with the king still has me hospitalised. how embarrassing.’
little did he know, kageyama was in the infirmary room right next to his own, being treated for his broken ankle and nose. 
tsukishima wasn’t spared another second to pity himself as his sore head snapped around to meet the gaze of whoever was lingering at the door, “hello?” he called out, squinting to try make out the looming figure before feeling around the side table for his glasses, “come in.” 
“Kei, hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”
That voice was unmistakable.
his blood ran cold, suddenly feeling extremely dizzy and sick. “(y/n).” he muttered under his breath in disbelief, as he was finally able to get a clutch on his glasses and push them up the bridge of his nose, easing his headache slightly. 
“oh, thanks.” he croaked, his throat dry from both waking up and your presence. if he being completely honest, he hardly processed a word you said; as soon as he realised it was you talking, his mind was just flooded with emotions, feelings and memories alike. hardly any of them were bad — except for the more recent ones — yet he still felt an overwhelming wave of sadness which he had no choice but to hide. 
“so are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?” he inquired, concealing his regret with sass, which was all to convincing since it was a usual practise for tsukishima by now. in fact, that’s exactly what had gotten him into this situation.
you inhaled sharply, shocked by the fact that he actually wanted you to stay as you’ve been under the impression that he hates you, which is understandable considering his recent actions. hesitantly, you emerged from behind the curtain that separated the bed he lay in from the door, your heart sinking upon seeing the state he lay in; out of the many years you had been friend with him, this is the worst you’ve ever seen him. pasty, chapped lips, bloodshot eyes, messy hair and extremely scrawny, yet you couldn’t help but admire him for pushing through none the less. in your eyes, he’s still beautiful — but he’d never believe you if you told him — and he thought the exact same about you. 
“how, um, how are you?” you stuttered, shuffling awkwardly as you took a seat in the chair that was already placed beside the bed. the same chair that his brother had sat in yesterday and him mother the day before that. 
“what do you think?” he scoffed, gesturing to his current state and injury that was highlighted by the thick, white cast. 
your eyes widened, being hit once again by the harsh reality that he was no longer your friend. “i- i don’t even know why i asked.” you murmured, voice meek and shaky enough to catch the attention of tsukishima, who also forgot that he was supposed to dislike you.
his comment wasn’t intended to be rude but in context, he could completely understand why you thought that — however, that’s just the type of guy he is. looking at your disheartened expression, he felt his own fall to resemble it. maybe kageyama did knock some sense into the blonde as he was now able to thinking clearly, recollect on how poorly he treated you and wonder why he did those things.
truly, he wanted nothing more to apologise. to tell you how awful he was and that he doesn’t hate you, quite the opposite actually! he needed to let you know that you did nothing wrong and everything bad that happened was his fault and he was willing to take full responsibility. but of course, his pride didn’t let him. all he was able to utter was, “did you check up on kageyama?”
it was a harmless question, or so he thought. just innocently inquiring about the wellbeing of his teammate and your ex, so why were tears rolling down your cheeks? and why did he feel the urge to cry too?
“yeah, but it was really awkward.”
tsukishima cheek heated up with both annoyance and at the fact your hand was now resting upon his, “why are you crying then?!” he snapped, angrily intertwining his fingers with yours, not thinking much of it, “you made it seem like he died or something!”
“why are you crying?!” 
“i’m not fucking crying!” he was crying. crystalline tears running down his cheek tickling his pale skin.
outstretching your arm, you brushed your finger against his face to wipe away his tear then proceed to show him how the pad of your index finger glistened under the intense room light. “yes, you are, crybabyshima!” you half-cried, half-laughed, resulting in tsukishima hunching over to cackle at the nickname. 
“i’m crying at how stupid you are!” he tired to hiss but he really couldn’t take himself seriously, involuntarily punctuating each word with a chuckle or wheeze. 
“watch it, kei. the stupid one of us is in a hospital bed.”  
he quirked a brow, breathing frantically from having just laughed his lungs out, “uh, yeah. because of stupidest one’s boyfriend.” he didn’t even know if what he was saying made sense or not, as his main priority was trying to catch his breath. 
“ex boyfriend.” you corrected, both of you becoming uncomfortably aware that you were still holding hands at the same time, yet neither of you dared to move an inch. you sniffled while wiping your cheek with the sleeve of your jacket, “kageyama told me what happened. it was vague but he said that you attacked him because he cheated on me, is that what really happened?”
his memory of the event was as hazy as that description. although, that sounded about right but now that he heard it aloud, he realised how pathetic it sounded so obviously he didn’t want to admit to that sort of behaviour. “i don’t remember.”
“it doesn’t sound like you.” your voice was hushed, as if he was going to scold you if you spoke up. “so what do you remember?”
the headache that was previously preventing him from doing any deep thinking had now somewhat dissipated, allowing his to avert his gaze onto the hospital floor as he hummed in thought, “the last thing i remember clearly was walking to school the night after you-” he gulped, the horrible memories suddenly flooding into his mind, making his lips twitch into a frown as he recalled all the nasty things he said to you, “the night after you called me.”
you nodded, the memories not treating you kindly either as all you were able to do was mouth an ‘oh’.
“listen, (y/n).” tsukishima started, the sight of your dejected aura prompting him to finally, partially, speak his mind. “i’m sorry about what i said. i don’t even know why i said it so i don’t have an explanation..i’m just sorry.” he didn’t expect forgiveness, in all honesty. if the roles were reverse, he was unsure as to whether he’d forgive you or not. well, he probably would but still, that’s just because he’s fallen so he doesn’t expect the same leeway from you. 
but to his surprise, your expression softened as you cooed, “it’s fine, kei.” with a shrug, absentmindedly stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “i somewhat forgive you.” 
his eyes basically popped out of their sockets, “what?” he almost instantly blurted out, looking at you as if you had gone mad. “why?” there was slight disgust laced in his voice, but that was as expected of him so you didn’t read to much into it.
“because you’re hot.” you joked with an eyeroll, taken back by the audacity he had to question your decision, “why do you care? just be thankful that we can be friends again!” you chirped but his grimace wiped the smile clean off you face.
he genuinely would’ve been more content if you had just stopped after your first statement. i mean, you looked at him like he was your world, even when he was laying beaten on a hospital bed, and the way your thumb gently stoked the back of his frail, calloused hand like it was treasure resulted in butterflies erupting in his stomach. was that just you being friendly?
“you really are stupid.” he tutted, averting his gaze from your watery eyes as it would do nothing more than evoke unneeded and unappreciated emotions within him. “i think i’ve made it exceeding clear that i don’t want to be your friend.” despite his efforts, his words still sounded unsure and a light blush kept creeping onto his features. 
a gasp escaped your lips, your eyebrows furrowing as you immediately felt a surge of impenetrable rage shoot through your body, “why not?! i thought we were getting on like old times.” after the initial rush of adrenaline subsided, you found yourself sulking, slumping back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest like a child. you just wanted things to go back to the way they were before, was that too much to ask? or did he truthfully detest you? and if that’s the case, why was he holding your hand so tightly, refusing to let go?
“idiot, i mean i want to be your boyfriend.” the last word was spoken meekly, as if it was a curse. “i didn’t think i’d have to spell it out for you but i guess i shouldn’t have overestimated your intelligence.” ironic, considering that you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that he was joking. you had known him for long enough to be aware that he was physically incapable of giving a compliment without following it up with sarcasm or an insult. 
it was as if someone had lit a blast furnace underneath your chair as you felt your whole body heat up to an uncomfortable extend, instantly aware of your hand in his you felt your palm become clammy — or perhaps that was his —   either way, you were quick to yank away, leaving tsukishima extremely confused and oddly offended.
“kei..” you breathed, mind completely blank, “why?” 
“what do you mean? i don’t know why.” this whole week has been a roller-coaster of emotions for him and now he was trying to finally bail himself out but you weren’t making it any easier, but at the end of the day, he only had himself to blame as you’d probably be a lot more forthcoming if it wasn’t for his past attitude. 
there was a part of him that was ready to gush on to you about how warm you make him, how your touch sends butterflies through his body, how your general demeanour makes him feel as though he could entrust his whole life to you but his pride wouldn’t allow him to express said thoughts. 
but fortunately, he didn’t need to elaborate as your finger found his jaw, tilting it upwards so he’d meet your reassuring gaze, “i’d love to. we could go to that dessert place near your house and get that couple’s discount! well, when you recover, of course.”
poor, simp tsukki didn’t even try to resist the smile his lips curled into as your minty breath tickled his skin. “i ask you out and the first thing you think about is dessert? typical.”
smirking, you leaned in to pinch his cheek but immediately jerked backwards when he winced, “ah, i’m sorry! old habits die hard.” you chuckled awkwardly, feeling a resurgence of the previous heat when he kissed the back of your hand to show no hard feelings. 
“it’s fine. but as an apology, stay with me for a while.” he said, his eyes fixated on the window by his bed. his hand subconsciously finding it’s way into yours once again. 
169 notes · View notes
yuzukult · 4 years
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drive safe (m) || bbh x reader
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title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written  words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown.  notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!
He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.
This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.
You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.
Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.
“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”
Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.
Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.
So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.
“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”
A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”
Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.
He was every high school girl’s wet dream.
And at the same time, dream boyfriend.
He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.
What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.
“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”
“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”
You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”
“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.
You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.
“Yeol isn’t coming?”
“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”
“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”
“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.
He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!
Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.
And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”
Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.
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“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?” 
You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.
Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?
“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.
He’s been watching you the entire time. 
Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.
“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?” 
“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”
She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”
“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.
Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.
“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”
“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”
“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“
“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”
He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”
“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.
“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”
You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”
Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!
“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”
“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”
He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer—“
“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”
You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”
“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”
“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”
“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”
“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.” 
That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.
“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”
“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?” 
“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”
“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”
“Wait, you liked me?”
A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”
Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”
“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”
“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”
“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”
Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”
“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”
“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”
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“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.
“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!” 
And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.
“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?” 
Of course he knows Baek.
They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.
“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”
“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”
Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?
“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”
Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.
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Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?
Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.
“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.
“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”
“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.
“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”
“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.
“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.
He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”
“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”
“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”
Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”
“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”
“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”
“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”
“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”
It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness. 
“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.” 
Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”
You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”
“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.
So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”
“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”
“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.
Baekhyun is kissing you.
Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.
Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”
“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”
You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”
“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”
“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”
“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.” 
You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”
“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room. 
“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse. 
“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.
“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”
“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”
“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”
You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.
“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”
“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.
“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”
“About what?”
“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”
You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”
“Be what?”
“The one you want to bring home.”
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Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.
“You’re kidding.”
“I am nothing but forthright.”
She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”
“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”
“There’s absolutely no catch.”
“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”
“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”
“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”
“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”
Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”
“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”
“I try!”
“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”
“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”
If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.
As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.
Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.
“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”
Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”
“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.
You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“
You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”
Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.
 When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.
“Where are we going?”
“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.
“That sounds good.” You grin.
That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.
“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?
You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”
He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”
“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”
“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”
“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”
“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”
“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”
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Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.
“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.
You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.
He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.
He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?
“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.
“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.
Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.
He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.
You end up staying more nights with him.
Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.
The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.
“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”
You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”
He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.
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“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?
Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”
“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”
He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”
You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”
“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”
“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”
He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”
“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”
“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”
“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs. 
“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”
“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”
He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.
Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.
But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.
Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?
There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.
10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.
All from Baekhyun.
There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.
But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.
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Another blind date.
You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!” 
Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.
Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”
The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.
“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?
Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”
“Oh, you made plans with him?”
“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”
Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”
Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”
“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”
“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.
Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”
The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs. 
“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.” 
Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.” 
“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”
“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”
“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.
Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.
The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.
There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner. 
“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”
Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.
“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”
“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.
Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.” 
“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”
But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate. 
You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.
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“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”
He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.
“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.
“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”
“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”
“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”
Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”
Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”
“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”
“You— you’re not mad about it?”
Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”
“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”
“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”
“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”
“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”
“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”
Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”
“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”
“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”
Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”
“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”
Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”
“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—��
“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”
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His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.
“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.
You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.
“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”
“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”
“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”
“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”
“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.
It’s just you and Baekhyun.
“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”
“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.
“Why are you—“
“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.
“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”
“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“So... what are you trying to say?”
“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”
You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.
“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“
“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.
“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”
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“I think I’m ready to move out.”
“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.
“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”
“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”
“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”
Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”
“What— why would you even bring that up!”
Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”
“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”
“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”
“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”
655 notes · View notes
shoichee · 3 years
Note
Request is about Rakuzan manager, who is a foreigner (from Russia). She is really popular in school, because the Japanese thinks that Russian are very pretty. But she thinks that she has ordinary appearance. Besides she always does her best for the team, tries to be the best manager for them and takes care of them because of her kindness. So Rakuzan boys warm up to her slowly. And Ore-Akashi slowly started coming to his sense (he's Boku-Akashi now), because she reminds him his mother.
Hi hi hi! Even after researching to portray this accurately, I am more vague on the specificality on Russian culture, especially in a Japanese high school setting, in order to make this more relatable and applicable. Still, I took care to implement some core values/general traits you’d see in Russian society // I HOPE I DID THIS JUSTICE;; 
[Rakuzan Manager f!Reader Headcanons]
you’ve always been the center of attention ever since you transferred to Rakuzan, a private school with extremely high standards
not to mention, your aura and looks completely encompasses that perfect “high-caliber student” look that every student wants so badly… so effortlessly? a lot of the students instantly took a liking to you just because of your appearances and how easily you stood out against the rest (especially in a collective society like Japan’s, where everyone is highly pressured to blend in)
but coming fresh from Russia, a society that focuses on individualism, you didn’t really see why everyone would suddenly worshipped you just because you expressed yourself freely… even so, in trying to make friends as a rare foreigner, you made sure to be kind to everyone
you made it out of your own way to always help the student council out with menial tasks, even if you weren’t a part of it, or always reached out a helping hand to other teachers, staff, and peers
so that may have shot up your popularity even more
your altruism easily reaches within earshot of Higuchi, the current 3rd-year manager of the Rakuzan’s basketball team, and he immediately soughts after you to invite you to the position of manager alongside him
after all, he’s going to graduate this year, so he wants to ensure that the team would be in good hands for the subsequent years
still, he’s quite nervous about introducing you to his… superiors, mostly because the team leadership has become quite… scary and strict this year
Higuchi brings you along as he slowly approaches Coach Eiji and the Rakuzan captain, who were both discussing about the imminent future of the team’s starting line and debating whether or not to switch around some players
Eiji noticed you first, and after hearing Higuchi’s suggestion, he immediately recognized you from how much the teachers and his coworkers had been praising you; hence, he has no doubt about you or anything… but he turns to Akashi to hear his input
all the while, the captain has been staring silently at you… and assessing you
“What do you think?” Eiji spoke up, glancing down to the 1st year in the corner of his eye.
“...” Akashi continues to sit with his hands clasped in front of his mouth
“It’d be an honor to become a manager for such a capable team!” you say, putting yourself into a deep bow to try to express your sincerity
“W-Wait, (y/n)-san, there’s no need to go to that extreme,” Higuchi says hurriedly, ushering you up
“S-Sorry, but I believe bows are used to express utmost deference and appeal?”
“Ahaha… only a few cases warrant a bow as deep as that.”
“Right, right! Noted…”
Akashi’s eventual sigh interrupted the both of you as he drops his hands into a more relaxed posture
“She’ll be useful. I have heard about her from other students within the student council. Shōta, you will keep her in line, correct?”
“Of course!”
“Then there is no need for this conversation to go any longer if this is settled with no further objections?” he turns to the coach for any further comments
“Yes,” he nods in agreement. “I hope you know this team expects nothing from the best from you, even if you’re only a manager.”
. . .
so here you are, on your first day as a manager alongside Higuchi, being taught the ropes of your duties: noting players’ favorite snacks and food, making sure there’s plenty of water bottles left, changing towels if needed… these honestly felt like normal chores to you, so you didn’t feel overwhelmed at all
“W-W-Whoa!! Our new manager is a girl?—Ow, Reo-nee!”
“Sheesh, show some respect to the manager! Quit looking at her like that!”
“B-But…”
“Hello!” you waved at them, popping up right in front of them, and Hayama quickly jumps to gain some distance for himself out of shock
“The foreign transfer student?!”
“I’m a new manager here, and I hope we get along!”
“Ah…” Mibuchi turns to you with a hand on his chest and a slight bow of his head in acknowledgement. “I must compliment you on your Japanese. You speak as if you’re almost native—in fact, your way of speaking is more elegant than most people here.”
“Thank you!” you beam at him. “Yes…! I’ve worked to at least become fluent for the JLPT N2, so I’m very glad you complimented me so!”
“Reo-nee, you tell me to back off, but you’re being chummy with her right now! Ei-chan, look! Don’t you agree with me?—Wha, where did he go?”
“Who knows?” Mibuchi shrugs indifferently. “But it’s no wonder that it’s been a lot quieter around… by the way (y/n)-chan, are all Russians as striking as you? It makes me a tad bit envious that such beauty is effortless to you.”
“No, no!” you deny with a laugh. “We’re quite ordinary, you see? I think everyone has their own type of beauty to admire and appreciate.”
“Oh! Beautiful words spoken by a beautiful person! Ah… I’ve been called by Higuchi-san. I must part but I hope you’ll allow me to ask you more questions later!”
as you wave off Mibuchi with a smile, Hayama only frowns at you as he crossed his arms, irritated at the fact that you don’t seem too keen on using honorifics for the upperclassmen:
“Look, you might’ve gotten Reo-nee to approve of you, but don’t think the rest of us will be just as accommodating. We’re serious about basketball, so don’t slack off and bring us down.”
but you only turn to him with a smile before giving a slight bow before replying: “I will put 100% of my time and effort, so everyone can do their best on the courts with peace of mind!”
Hayama immediately gets flustered, not expecting such a warm response to his words and he scratches head and replies loudly, “U-Uh… yeah, just, just don’t screw it up for us.”
the first week of being manager was just like what Hayama spoke about: most of the players were wary of you because you were extremely different in how you carried yourself, or curious about you for that same reason… perhaps you were recruited out of pity?
there were a handful of teammates who were brave enough to ask you questions about your culture or personal background
Eikichi, on one hand, asked about your cuisine and whether there were “big guys” like himself that can be a challenge to his strength (you only laugh at him as you easily answer all of his questions)
“I heard the Russian men are unbelievably strong! *flexes his own biceps* Their muscle masses are rumored to be insane!”
“W-Well… it’s different for everyone, but I agree that we’re very strong-natured and have dignity for ourselves.”
“Ohh, (y/n)-chan… that must be why you stand out so much yourself!”
“Mibuchi-kun, you’re very striking yourself, you know…”
and here is Hayama petulantly huffing all the while, doubting you all the while still
“Here you go again, forgetting to add senpai after Ei-chan and Reo-nee!”
“Why should I?” You tilt your head in confusion. “Whether I add such honorifics or not doesn’t change how much I respect them, Hayama-kun.”
“It’s Hayama-senpai to you!”
“If you’re spending this much time fixated on this, then you can spend that much time practicing and showing me the skills to earn the respect you want! Come on! Chop, chop, chop!”
. . .
“Ei-chan! Don’t you get mad when (y/n) doesn’t address you properly?! Reo-nee, what about you?!”
“Huh? I’d never be mad at someone who doesn’t seem to mind me burping at all, and she never scolds me about this stuff like Reo does—”
“Who wouldn’t?! It’s gross, seriously! While I do not understand her tolerance of your vulgar manners, her eloquence and natural aura is equal to those of Sei-chan’s… so in my eyes, I see no need for her to use such honorifics.”
“HUH?! Reo-nee, but why?!”
his opinion of you only gradually changes when you never seem to snap at him back even though he’s being a little shit when you’re around… you remind him of a motherly figure… but a kind, level-headed one, which is slightly different from the naggy mother-hen (but good-intentioned) vibe Mibuchi gives off
besides, anyone with eyes can see how much you scurry around holding handfuls of towels and bottles for all the players, even for the bench players
people think it’s really odd that you’re so physically close to the teammates, especially when you link arm in arm with them or give little distance when you talk with them; as a result, a lot of speculation of “dating” and “relationships” pop up when your name is brought up
the Uncrowned Kings easily squash those rumors… Akashi’s presence alone is also enough to silence them LOL
Mibuchi is the main guy who always likes to link arms as a symbol of your shared friendship
. . .
it’s an odd relationship between you and Mayuzumi… no matter how much you call out to him, he ignores you, and no matter how much he ignores you, you still treat him the same as ever
“Stop pestering me,” Mayuzumi clicks his tongue, blatantly making the effort not to face you properly, and you finally smile, seeing that he finally acknowledged your presence
“Ah, you’re quite the blunt one, aren’t you, Mayuzumi-san?”
“If you get that, then go away.”
“Well, I can’t! You’re part of the lineup, so I am especially not going to neglect you.”
“Are you this mindless to help people like a saint and then expect everyone to adore you? As far as I’m aware, most see you as some ‘exotic’ curiosity and nothing more. And I frankly love myself too much to be associated with such people. If you’re only here out of pity, beat it. Now.”
“Well, it seems like you care enough to tell me that,” you muse, but your face hardens with a serious glint in your eye. “But heed my words when I say this Mayuzumi-san. I am not doing this to be a people-pleaser. I am doing this for myself and only myself. I want to be a good person because it is a decision I make for myself. When there is a choice of being a good person versus bad, I’ll choose to be the best version of myself at any moment. That is my own definition of self-respect. No way in hell I’m doing this because I feel sorry for you… I will complete my duty with my pride as Rakuzan’s manager on the line.”
he’s stunned at your words, and he instantly relaxes his posture before he turns to continue reading his novel on hand… “I see.”
he actually likes the fact that your culture allows people to be more outspoken about their opinions, since he’s all too aware how the majority of his own peers are constantly worried about collective reputation and doing things for the sake of others
Mayuzumi becomes a lot more… cooperative with you from that point on
he relates to your words of having high self-respect and pride, and he’s pleasantly surprised that you actually know how to hold your own ground despite being very kind // even if he finds it weird that being a manager makes you happy… but since it’s something you do for your own sake, he can learn to respect it; after all, he reads light novels for his own happiness
imagine his unadulterated surprise when you not only brought him bottles, snacks, and a towel (that’s the part he expected from you), you slipped in new issues of the latest light novels within the towel bundle (this is what caught him off guard)
you’re suddenly seen in a good light in his eyes
. . .
it’s been almost a month since you’ve been recruited, and most of the teammates have now accepted you as one of their own, more or less, but something bothered you that you couldn’t help but ask Rakuzan’s senior manager
“Higuchi-san, don’t managers need to do some analytic work for the team statistics? It seems that all we do is mundane tasks.”
“Ah, most of the analytic work is done by Akashi.”
“But why? Does he not trust the managers with this work? Does he see us as not capable?”
“Not exactly… he’s very… particular about ensuring the best possible strategies for victory. So far, whatever he’s been doing has earned him complete trust from the entire team and even our coach.”
“Wow… that’s… a really impressive feat for a 1st year…”
“No one’s really surprised though. (y/n)-san you may have just transferred here so you might not know, but he was Teiko’s previous captain and the main public face of the Generation of Miracles…”
after he finished giving a crash-course on their prodigal status in the basketball world, you’re more fired up to work harder for Rakuzan as the manager
“Besides, (y/n)-san, our main duty of being a manager is to maintain the well-being of our team. All these little things add up, and surely, the team knows to appreciate these gestures from us.”
you actually later approach the Uncrowned Kings to playfully complain about why they didn’t tell you how prestigious they truly were on the courts (after learning about their status from Higuchi)
“Huh? (y/n)-nee, now you wanna show respect to your senpais, huh?”
you don’t miss the playfulness in his complaint as he tries to ruffle your hair… and also the way Hayama has recently addressed you differently
“This is different, Hayama! You have such titles under your belts because of your skills and accomplishments on the court… that is extremely admirable!”
“D’awww, it’s nothing, really.”
of course, they all have pride in their titles, but they all immediately turn the direction of the conversation to Akashi, saying they were nothing compared to him
that only made you more curious about the captain
you actually never made conversation with him throughout the month because you were so busy with your duties and helping out everyone… but you finally decided to try to help the captain in any way
Akashi has been observing you for the entirety of your time in the team… that much is to be expected, considering that he needed to evaluate your performance and compatibility with the rest of the teammates to make sure that there is still unity even with the addition of a new person (after all… as much as he doesn’t want to admit, he is still fearful of the possibility of his team crumbling from the inside again)
the fact that you even got Mayuzumi to approve of you in his own way actually impressed him; even he himself had to be authoritative to get Mayuzumi to be cooperative on the team
it’s the little things you do that reminds him of the tickles of nostalgia, when he first played basketball with his late mother, within his mind: the way you were the only one giving positive encouragement to the players in a club filled with cutthroat competition and perfection; the way you made sure that everyone was calm and collected before they walk into the courts; the way you diligently remember and cater every care package and preference to every unique player, in addition to your minimum duties.
he unconsciously mellows out whenever you approach to him to speak, and he only realizes that fact every time you leave the conversation to continue your next to-do on your schedule
“Akashi-san!”
he turns to look at you impassively, but he stands to wait to hear what you have to say
“Can I help you with anything in any way?”
“Are your assigned duties of manager not enough?” he asks, but he continues to give little away from his blank expression
“No, no, that’s not it,” you reply. “I was wondering how I can extend my hand to also help out the captain of the team as well. After all, it’s important for the managers to care for the well-being of every team member… you’re no exception!”
“Do what you think is best to ensure victory,” was all he said before he left
you’re now confused… did he mean for you to keep up your work as normal? did he trust you enough to let you decide what to do on your own? his vague words certainly threw you in for a loop
still, the Rakuzan teammates were able to breathe easier whenever you were in the same room as Akashi, because there’s always a gentler aura around him when you’re near the vicinity
sometimes his Orekashi side slips out, whether he gives an open compliment to a good play (albeit, delivered in a calm, spartan way) or when he gives an occasional perfect-rhythmed pass that leaves his teammates in a stupor
Akashi’s mannerisms towards you as the manager is as subtle as a speck of dust, but he’s grown a quiet sense of respect for you and the atmosphere you’ve brought to the team
however, it will only be at the final game where his Orekashi side will fully reawaken again
if any student dares to approach you with insensitive questions and comments about your race and culture with stereotypes, they should be expecting all hell breaking loose from the basketball team in 3… 2… 1…
186 notes · View notes
delicioussshame · 3 years
Text
[cries in fandom] I was supposed to work tonight and instead I wrote more of yesterday’s fic because I had the idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it. 
Shen Qingqiu isn’t an empty nester. He has plenty of disciples still running around the peak, eager to learn and keeping him very busy.
It’s just that the generation that was already there when he arrived, Ning Yingying, Ming Fan and the others, are now fully grown cultivators, spending most of their time roaming the world on their own quests.
They bring him pride each time they visit, usually gifting him with obscure artefacts and rare volumes he spends days pouring over. It doesn’t quite make up for their absence, but it helps.
Still, he would have preferred Ning Yingying gift him something else the last time she visited.
He, of course, knew she would eventually cross paths with Luo Binghe. She was bound to. After much pondering, he had decided not to interfere. Her occasional visits to Luo Binghe weren’t enough to hurt her cultivation, and anyway Luo Binghe was usually careful not to let Xin Mo gorge enough to leave traces, especially on trained cultivators. She’d be fine.
Plus, when Luo Binghe would tire of hiding in plain sight and reveal his status as leader of the Demon Realm, his fondness for her would protect her from the consequences Shen Qingqiu himself might face.
He would probably be fine though. He’d just have to take a less adversarial take than his predecessor, who had fought to the death to “protect his disciple from the beast”.
Or he’d thought he would, until Ning Yingying, with a blinding smile that radiated unblemished innocence, had told her she’d booked him a session with her A-Luo, because, to hear her say it, he needed it.
He had been tempted to expel her on sight. Don’t thrown Shen Qingqiu into the maws of the beast! He doesn’t have your youthful beauty or girlish charms!
He hadn’t. Ning Yingying is just too caring. She hadn’t realised that just because she very much enjoyed Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu might not feel the same. Wrong tree. Because if he were attracted to men, which he was not, what a ridiculous notion, he would have made a move himself. Luo Binghe is soft on his favorite clients. He’d have nothing to lose by endearing himself to him.
Too bad he’s not interested. He had to refuse him.
He’d thought he knew what to expect when he’d gone to reject the offer as politely as he could. It wouldn’t do to offend him.
Sadly, all the foreknowledge of the world hadn’t been quite enough to shield himself from his unnatural charisma. He’d made a fool of himself, practically running out to escape the protagonist’s aura. Luo Binghe, how terrifying! His poor disciple had stood no chance!
Anyway, he can admit he is occasionally lonely. He misses his dear Yingying and his first disciple, whom, for all his flaws, Shen Qingqiu had grown fond of. It wasn’t impossible for Ning Yingying to have noticed, and to have tried to offer him company. Totally misguided, but understandable.
When he hears a commotion outside, he instantly goes to check it out. Maybe it will break his monotony.
He immediately regrets it. Why, why on earth are Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge fighting with enough strength that they could easily kill his terrorised disciples here on his peak! It’s way too early for Luo Binghe to have come out of the demonic closet! And why is he even here!
Shen Qingqiu turns towards his closest disciple. “What is happening here.”
The poor girl jumps at his tone. “Shizun! I’m sorry, I’m not sure, we heard rumours that Luo Binghe was at the sect, so we were curious, but Liu-shishu showed up and it devolved into a fight. I don’t know why.”
Huh. So Liu Qingge made the first move? Quite possible. He might have wanted to protect his sister’s honor.
That should be manageable. He raises his voice. “Fighting on my peak isn’t allowed. Stop at this instant.”
To his surprise, both swords freeze.
Shen Qingqiu despairs for this world’s mob characters. How come no one wonders why a courtesan can keep up with Liu Qingge? Why can’t they notice how Xin Mo oozes with malevolence? Can they only see Luo Binghe’s fabulously handsome face and physique?
He wouldn’t be surprised.
“Shen Qingqiu! How dare you!”
Shen Qingqiu blinks. “How dare I what, Liu-shidi? I’m not the one who picked a fight on someone else’s peak.”
He points to Luo Binghe. “Him!”
Beside his general existence, there’s nothing especially offensive about Luo Binghe? “What about him?”
“I thought you’d outgrown such nonsense, but he shows up here!”
Shen Qingqiu has no idea what is happening. “I’m sorry if his presence offends you, but I assure you I have nothing to do with it.”
“I’m afraid that’s a lie,” says Luo Binghe as Liu Qingge seems close to death via outrage.
Shen Qingqiu turns toward Luo Binghe. “How could it be?”
In answer, Luo Binghe brandishes… the fan he’d completely forgotten when he’d visited, shit! Did he come here, on his peak, holding this incriminating evidence as a badge of honor!?
Shen Qingqiu feels himself blanch. How can he clear himself of these allegations? Liu Qingge thinks he’s trying to steal his sister’s man! Once the War God of Bai Zhen is done with Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s head is next!
Luo Binghe continues like he didn’t notice Shen Qingqiu’s obvious discomfort, which he must have. “You left this behind the other day, and so I have come to return it. Let it not be said I am not a perfect gentleman.”
Oh no. He can hear consternation from some of his pupils, and definitely less consternated exclamations from others.
Liu Qingge has now plunged on Luo Binghe again, who dodges with too much ease. How can no one notice something is wrong!
Maybe the renewed fight will distract everyone while Shen Qingqiu discretely dig himself a hole deep enough to never have to come out.
Oh well, there’s nothing he can tell but the truth. No one will believe it, but since no one ever believed Shen Qingqiu, how will it be any different? “Please stop this fight at once. Luo Binghe, I thank you for bringing my fan back to me despite my rude refusal of your services. It wasn’t your fault my student misconstrued my interests. Again, I am sorry for your wasted time. Liu-shidi, I understand your sister’s paramour might not be your favorite individual, but please don’t assault the sect’s guests. Think of our reputation. What will people say?”
Liu Qingge stares at him with… stupefaction? “You’re not his?”
Yeah, he’s nipping that train of thought in the bud. The last thing he needs is his disciples thinking he’s some pretty thing’s toy. They would never respect him again. “No. He’s not my type. No offense intended.”
Liu Qingge remains still for a moment, before he plucks the fan from Luo Binghe’s hand and shoves it toward Shen Qingqiu. “Keep track of your fans! There are two in my home!”
Ladies and gentlemen, Shen Qingqiu, a man being berated in public about his chronic tendency to forget things like an unruly child. “Why should I care when Shidi is always so eager to bring them back to me?”
Liu Qingge flushes in anger.
Shen Qingqiu gives himself a point.
_______________
Things were light-hearted before.
Now, Luo Binghe is serious.
Not only did Shen Qingqiu refuse his advance, but he implied Luo Binghe himself wasn’t good enough for him, in front of his whole peak, before ignoring him in favor of flirting with another man, right in his face?
Never has he suffered such humiliation.
He had intended to be kind. To soothe and seduce the man gently until following Luo Binghe to bed would seem like the only logical option.
He bets Shen Qingqiu would have paid him for the privilege, and paid him well, regardless of his disciple’s previous arrangements.
Now, those options are off the table. When Luo Binghe is done with him, pleasure will have robbed Shen Qingqiu of the last of his voice, and yet he’ll still be trying to beg him for more.
He’ll be ruined to anyone that’s not Luo Binghe; unable to live without his touch.
Anything less would be an unsurmountable affront.
Shen Qingqiu better prepares himself. The fight might have been lost, but Luo Binghe will be the one to win the war.
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an-ambivalent · 4 years
Text
Yandere! Claude [WMMAP]
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WARNING:  This post contains yandere themes and mentions of other toxic behaviours that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. So, read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not condone this behaviour irl. And uh, PSA, I haven’t been writing for a long time so its rusty :’) ok thanks. 
Fandom: Who Made Me a Princess 
Pairing: Reader-Insert
No beta, we die like men. 
dedicated to my friend @spiritualotaku​ 
First Meeting 
~ After the betrayal of his brother and his first partner, and then losing Diana, the only time Claude would be able to “love” again is after the black magic he casted upon himself has done its job and erased the memory of his last deceased partner. Even though he had hoped to freeze his heart so he would not be hurt anymore, a part of the spell worked but in a twisted away. So, the next time he does love someone else, his feelings were going to be different than how he may have felt for Penelope and had felt for Diana. 
~ There’s not really a particular scenario to exist that would be a catalyst for his “interest” in you. That would be something that would develop over time, so you would have to be in a position where you interact with him frequently. Nothing like a maid or something because Claude always keeps these types of servant roles at an arm's distance. It would have to be a role where you are able to interact with the Emperor, but not significant enough that he would become aware of you right off the bat. Perhaps you’re the blacksmith responsible for the royal guards’ weapons, or the assistant of the magician who is the healer for the knights; being in an occupation that allows you to have regular interactions with Felix, who is completely trusted by Claude and friendly with you, would allow Claude to have a more favourable first impression of you. 
~In this instance, let’s assume the role of the assistant healer. The royal guard magician healer and you were scheduled to visit to conduct the regular health check ups that happen for the guards. Since Felix was not there, you were told by your senior to go find and do his check ups and they would look after the rest. One of the castle workers guided you to the royal garden where you see your client, and the cold ruthless Emperor he is assigned to protect.  
“Blessings and Glory upon the sun of the Obelian Empire,” you and the maid greet simultaneously bowing, and both Felix and Claude’s gaze shift towards you. Recognition flashes across Felix’s face when he sees you, but the coldness glistening in Claude’s bright blue jeweled eyes is unmatched and new, as a murderous aura starts to radiate off him. You and the maid freeze under his overwhelming terrifying presence. 
“You must not value your life so much if you barge in here however as you please and disrupt my peace,” he said stoically. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the maid beginning to tremble in fear. Along with this, although your face was looking at the ground in order to avoid the Emperor's gaze, you felt a spike of magic from him. You didn’t mean to, but you subconsciously released your own magic output, and put up a defensive shield around you and the maid in case the self-entitled Emperor was going to harm her or you for “disrupting his [poor] peace.”
This, of course did not go unnoticed by Claude who narrowed his eyes at you, wondering how you could be gutsy enough to usher him a challenge like that. Luckily, the situation did not escalate to that point since Felix jumped in. 
“Your Majesty, please don’t harm them. They’re here for me, I had forgotten I am meant to see the magician today. I ask that you do not hold them accountable for this.” 
Claude fixed his cold stare on Felix for a few seconds, who was accustomed to it, so he was able to hold his ground. And then,it was obviously evident that his gaze was fixated on you with the way you felt goosebumps rise at the nape of your neck. 
“I wasn’t aware the magician was a woman,” Claude pointed out, and the way he stated this made it seem like an accusation of some sort because everyone flinched as he had spoken. Felix stepped in front of you and the maid to act as a shield, and addressed Claude with a stern tone. 
“I’m sorry for the trouble that’s been caused for you because of me, Your Majesty. To not be of inconvenience to you anymore, we will excuse ourselves.” Felix bowed, and then led you and the maid out of the garden. You would have breathed out a sigh in relief and thanked Felix, but your breath and your words were stuck in your throat (coronavirus). Because for the entire time until the garden was out of your sight, the cold and intense gaze of the royal jeweled eyes, stayed fixated on you. 
How it happens 
~Although your first meeting with the Emperor had started off with a slight rift to say the least, other employees in the castle had noticed that an odd acquaintanceship had developed between you and Claude. Actually, it was an acquaintanceship in their eyes. In reality, it was completely one-sided because you entertained his whims to stay alive. He was the Emperor who could have your head whenever he wanted, and you were forced by your magician boss to interact with him in hopes that you making a good impression on him would somehow benefit him. 
~Claude’s interest in you had developed from the things he heard about you from the knights. They spoke of how attentive you were to their care each time, and whenever they were suffering from a painful injury, you made sure to numb the area around that injury to reduce their pain as much as possible. They spoke kind words about your humour, and the homemade sweets you always brought with you to give to them once their check up was over; it was a small action, but the thought behind it was really appreciated by the knights. You conversed, informed, and asked for their consent each time before you did something unlike your boss, who just wanted to finish the job as soon as possible. 
Claude also recalled how you had instantly jumped to the defense of that incompetent maid when he had unleashed his mana to intimidate her -- you had done this as if it was second nature to you. You had acted against him and not even paused to consider the consequences you may have faced for going against the Emperor. It intrigued him and he wanted to understand you. Although Obelia’s residents’ quality of life had improved after Claude became the sovereign and reduced the corruption from his father’s and brother’s reign, there were still many greedy and power hungry scum that he had to deal with. For this reason, his desire to approach someone seemingly as kind as you became stronger. 
And so, your regular tea time with Claude commenced. 
Yandere  
~Once Claude develops affection for you, he would have possessive traits as a yandere. He has lost so much already too, to make sure it does not happen again, he would want you to belong solely to him. He would keep you away from everyone else. 
~He will be clingy; there is no respect or regard for any boundaries you set. If he wants to touch you, hug you, and show affection, but you find his touch aversive or ever try to pull away, he will simply ignore you and force you to comply with him. If you struggle too much, he will use a spell that acts a relaxant to cease your thrashing. 
~Although Claude is rather temperamental and threatens people easily, he would have a bit more patience with you. But, he will not hesitate to threaten you if you give him too much trouble. If anything or anyone else tries to hurt you or take you away from him, he will hurt them. Ruthlessly. 
~He keeps you isolated so the chances of someone else trying to steal you away from him are low. However, in any instances you were out in public, he expects you to stick to his side and not initiate or respond to anyone. He expects you to stay quietly and obediently by his side, and let him do the talking for you to keep you fully to himself. 
General things 
~Once your relationship has been there for enough time, he will gift you your own palace. But even before that, he will spoil you lavishly with the most beautiful jewels and clothes he wants to see you in, or think you will look beautiful in. 
~When it is just you and him, he prefers you to wear simple robe dresses that are revealing and easy to access. When he wants to cuddle you, and with any physical intimacy, he enjoys the touch of your warm skin against his own. 
~When he is stressed, he likes you to lay down on your lap and nap while you play with his hair. 
And Claude is a boobs man
1K notes · View notes
sirensmojo · 3 years
Text
"KINDRED", 4 - Thomas Shelby x Reader.
Warnings: Swearing, romance, violence, guns, drama, slight smut(“slight”?)
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Word Count: 5k+
AN: When it’s a reader and Tommy scene, it’s Tommy POV.
❰ ​Previous Chapter
Tommy leaned backwards on his desk chair, a cigarette stuck in between his index and middle fingers. He was looking at the ceiling as if its colour brought to him answers to the multiple questions that had been clouding his mind lately.
Since the day he and Y/N kissed, he noticed she had been avoiding him. She didn’t even send him the weekly book she usually dropped at the office.
He didn’t understand her, and each time he tried to put back together the pieces to get a clear view of her character, the memories of the smell of her hair brought him somewhere else. And whenever he would dare to close his eyes too long, he would taste her lips again.
Even if she chose to stay away from him, he entered her world once and appreciated it so greatly it had printed into his spirits, like a hand in wet cement.
He allowed himself to shift his thoughts to Mosley from time to time, the d-day was approaching and with it, the time he’ll take the lead of the British fascist party.
(...)
The only way Lizzie found to see her husband these days was to come back in business as Tommy’s secretary. He told her she wouldn’t have to work when they got their daughter, Ruby, but he was rarely home, and when he was, his mind was elsewhere.
Even after promising to let her in sometimes, she struggled the most to read him, but despite all, she was deeply in love with him. She had to make the effort and reach for him.
He didn’t agree with her taking back her job at first and she knew exactly why, as being responsible for her having a baby, he had to take care of her, at least he felt like he did. He was undeniably a murderer, cut-throat gangster, but he had convictions and rules to stick to.
This morning began as normal as any other for the Shelby company limited, Lizzie was occupied with papers as Tommy locked himself in his office.
The door opened, Lizzie’s gaze instantly got up, searching for who might that be. When her gaze met the figure, her jaw dropped. ‘Not again’ she thought. This scene reminds her of the time May Carleton came in here only to entice her Tommy.
She knew he didn’t owe her anything, but he could’ve waited at least a day or two before calling another woman. Not even twenty-four hours earlier Tommy was fucking her in some alley in the cold, probably thinking about a woman he knew before France. But he said he was fucking her, Lizzie, and not his lost teenage lover, even if she knew better.
Tommy and his cock.
That May Carleton was walking so confidently in front of Lizzie, she probably thought she was the one to own Tommy’s cock. If only she knew. She glared at her so strongly that May avoided looking at her at all costs.
The woman that just passed the door didn’t look her way, too occupied walking straight to the doors of Tommy’s office with the arrogance of an army.
Lizzie’s eyes went from her seemingly very expensive shoes, up her green pants suit in which pockets she kept a hand, to her suit jacket that fell perfectly on her waist as the end of which was drawing the woman’s hips. Her leather belt marked, even more, her waist and its golden details matched the imposing blue pearls necklace along with the large same looking earrings.
As soon as the woman entered the room, the atmosphere switched, her figure called the eyes, not only due to her ostentatious jewellery collection but also by the woman’s charismatic aura. Even the clicking sound her heels made on the hard ground was full of power. Anyone could hear the confidence in each of her steps, which made Lizzie gasp.
As a moth attracted to light, Tommy got out of his office, a cigarette hanging on his lips. He pressed a shoulder on the door frame, his eyes fixed on the woman walking towards him.
He was indeed waiting for her.
His deep blue eyes weren’t examining the woman’s form in an enticed way, he was solely looking at her face, a thing that made Lizzie’s heart ached because she understood there might be more than sexual attraction between them.
Lizzie knew her husband. From the way he dawdled on the woman’s face to the little waving of his shoulders, she just knew.
The atmosphere again had changed, Lizzie was now oppressed by their two presences, the warm and powerful one of the stranger and the usual cold and disconcerting one of her husband, one completing the other.
As her heart didn’t want to admit it yet, a burning look was exchanged by the two pairs of eyes, and confirmed the obvious her brain already knew, Thomas had found his match, and it wasn’t her.
(...)
Tommy took off his shoulder from the door frame and stood straight as he humidified his lips. The librarian walked to him with her usual unreadable face and when she was close enough, she grabbed his cigarette off his fingers taking her time to make their skin touch as much as she could. Her eyes were still deeply in Tommy’s as millions of sparks animated the tips of his fingers.
The man coughed and turned to Lizzie, motioning his hand to the woman behind the desk, in an attempt to ignore the sparks. “Mrs Y/L/N, meet my wife, Lizzie. Lizzie, it’s Mrs Y/L/N, the librarian I work with at the House Of Commons.” He had sensed the intense look of his wife since Y/N came closer to him.
“Mrs Shelby! I am so honoured to meet you, I heard about your typewriting skills, writing eyes closed, eh? I could never.” Y/N gave a warm smile to Lizzie that squinted her eyes in anticipation. His wife didn’t believe in what the librarian just told and he was sure Y/N knew it too.
“Yeah? Well, I never heard of you.” Lizzie spitted.
“It’s because you don’t keep company with my people.” She had the audacity to take a puff on the cigarette she stole earlier from Tommy looking his wife straight in the eyes.
Even if Y/N’s voice was calm and solemn, it was clear it was an attack. The implication made Lizzie gritted her teeth as she got up and joined them. Tommy rubbed a hand on his own face knowing exactly what she was going to do.
She stood behind the librarian. “And what business do you have here in Birmingham if you work in London?”
“You’re husband,” Y/n responded, not even turning to her. She bypassed Tommy and opened the door’s office before disappearing behind them.
Lizzie followed her with her eyes before looking up at her husband. “The fuck is she doing here? Are you going to fuck her, Thomas?”
“No, Lizzie. Am not going to fuck her.” He responded exhaling deeply.
“Yeah, take me for an fucking idiot.” She walked to the desk to grab her hat & coat. “That’s all you’re good for anyway. You fucked all Birmingham and now London, huh?” She sneered before shaking her head walking to the exit.
“Lizzie.” He called, but the woman had already closed the door.
Tommy raised his brows and sighed before turning to the office where he marked a pause. It was another type of storm he had to face now. He finally opened the door and got in, only to find Y/N seated behind his desk, in his chair.
“Tommy Shelby, OBE, what a pleasure to meet your family.”
“It was quite a show you put out there.” He closed behind him.
When he turned back at the room, she was walking toward him, but she already was pretty near.
“So you fucked all Birmingham already, hum? Trying to expand your activities in London?” Y/N leaned on him, she was so close he could smell her breath and he wondered what was her fucking problem. She ignored him for days after they kissed and here she was again, pushing him to the edges. It was almost as if it was a game for her. And if it was, she was winning all the damn rounds.
“And you? What’s with the attitude?”
“What are you talking about.” She took a step back.
“You have been busy this week, eh?” Tommy walked to the counter and poured whiskey in two glasses.
“Well, the man you have your little brother watching, he talks.” She loosely let out. “The bookmaker Billy Grade, the one that conducts the football betting business” She paused looking at Tommy’s surprised expression. “He doesn’t like Arthur.”
“To who?” Was the simple question he needed an answer to.
“I made moves with Mosley so, yes, it had been a busy week, Thomas.”
At the revelation, Tommy’s eyes squinted. If there was one thing he learnt with Grace was to make sure his feelings weren’t a shackle to business.
“I’m not betraying you, no need for these wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. But you gotta know he’s offered me the South.” She went to the counter and took the glasses before sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, one cup in her hand, the other she put on one of the numerous files covering the desk.
Tommy went sitting in his armchair. He lit a cigarette and held one to the woman that declined.
“Only like to take yours.” She gave as an explanation.
“How come he offered you the south?” He ignored her comment.
“North’s Mc Cavern’s, Middle’s yours, South’s vacant. But I have another plan for the South, and you might agree with me as well.” A rictus took place at the corner of her lips, as Tommy looked at her, curious. “Mr Solomons. I know he wrote you that he’s still alive.”
Tommy’s lids fluttered a couple times, he didn’t say anything. How could she know so much all the time? Was she listening to him or something? He for a second thought it might be her spying on him on the phone but this idea went away almost immediately.
She wasn’t Grace.
“He and I are great friends. Not as if he really has any, but do I?” She muttered utterly to herself.
Tommy coughed and leaned back on his chair, making himself comfortable.
“What’s with you, Tommy?” Asked the librarian, and he himself couldn’t put a finger on what was going on. It was always that way when she was around, but everything intensified when they leaned their breath as one and connected together.
His mind was so full of thoughts that had nothing to do with business that it was hard for him to concentrate. But for some reason, he just couldn’t push those thoughts aside.
He wanted her, he yearned for her to touch him the way she did that night, to intertwine their fingers together again and forget about Mosley for an instant, just one. Tommy humidified his lips again as raising his eyebrows, it was like his lips were always dry or incomplete. Her lips belonged on his. He raised his gaze to her in distress.
“You want to come to me house, Tommy? Again?” Her voice resonated in his head, her words taking him by surprise.
“Huh?”
“Have a drink or two, meet my cat...” She went on, looking intently at his soul hiding behind his icy blue iris.
He didn’t recognize her, but did he even know her? It seems not. Every time they meet, she puts another mask on. Somewhere in his soul, he believed it wasn’t a good idea, that thing they shared. But he knew he couldn’t turn away and break the partnership. Not now. Not only could she be hard to beat if they turned to enemies, but he also needed her, she was part of his business now. She was too precious an ally for him to withdraw from the deal.
As he didn’t respond, she drank from her cup, finishing its countenance in one go. “I’ll ask Arthur then...replace his Linda.” She added looking up to the ceiling innocently.
“The fuck did you say?” He hustled to spit as watching her without blinking.
Her gaze went back on Tommy, a playful gleam animating her pupils.
“What do you say?” She sent him back the ball. It was indeed a game for her, and he knew once again she would be the winner because he wouldn’t say no.
He tried to escape her game by coughing it away and smoked his cigarette. “How are you going to bring up Alfie Solomons with Mosley?” He went back on business, but the woman didn’t seem ready yet to give up.
She got up and grabbed the phone with one hand as the other was dialling a number. She sat at the corner of the desk, turning toward the Shelby brother and the phone. Tommy watched her movements closely, curious about how she was going to handle him dismissing her offer.
He couldn’t even hide the fact her stubbornness did something to him, even if he repressed any desire for her. It was as if they were the principal characters in the regency era drama he ended up devouring as it was the book Y/N was reading on their first meeting.
He was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the librarian asking the cable woman to put her in connection with the individual she intended to reach.
“Yeah, Arthur, it’s me. I wonder if you would wa--” Tommy had heard enough. He hung up the line and fixed the phone for what feels like centuries, slowly realizing what his reaction meant.
The Y/E/C eyes woman remained silent, a silence that felt heavy on Tommy’s conscience. He straightened back and leaned on the back of his chair, glancing at the ceiling.
He was done with those games. He couldn’t believe he dove into her crude farce head first, and now he had to face her because she had been staring at him the last minute.
“You’re a devil.” He let the words lazily slip between his lips.
“Call me Lilith.” She spiritedly exclaimed. Tommy’s eyes went to her face at that exact moment.
“So you’re jew, eh? That explains why you know Alfie, but contradicts the fact you and Mosley are close.” Tommy thought out loud. According to his memories, Lilith was a demon of the jew tradition, which led him to his conclusion.
The woman instantly smiled, seemingly very content about the Shelby head struggling to catch her.
“Fair enough.”
“You come to my house?”
“I was talking about the comparison.” He paused, looking at her blankly.
She sighed.
No doubt she was annoyed by Tommy’s behaviour, but she won way too much at their little game. It was about time Tommy won. It was unusual of him to be that shallow but it was their intimate space, so he didn’t care.
(...)
Gina couldn’t see anything when the abductors took her out of the car to lead her down some stairs into what she surmised to be a cellar, she already had a piece of cloth hiding her vision and one in her mouth, preventing her from screaming.
She was petrified and the fact the individuals didn’t say a word, neither during the ride nor once in the room didn’t help her. She could feel heavy drops of sweat rolling down her forehead as dried tears itched the corners of her eyes.
The place was colder than what she remembered a cellar to be. Flashes of her childhood coming back to her from time to time.
“THREE… TWO… ONE… ZERO. I’M COMING GINA!” Her cousin shouted from the kitchen where they last saw each other. The little girl used to come down in the cellar to hide when playing hide and seek with any member of her family, from her cousins to her father.
As her mother was severely ill, she couldn’t play with Gina, but her father always did. When not leading the believers to sing the praises of the Almighty at the local church, he was both a father and a mother to her.
Although her mother & herself loved each other more than anything, she soon stopped seeing her. When at first her father let Gina visit the room of her mother once a day, it decreased from once a week, to once a month to simply never.
Despite the child doggedly asking for her mother, he remained unyielding and managed to keep his daughter away from her mother for her own sake.
It was only when growing older and after the death of her mother that Gina understood her father’s demeanour. He was desperate not to let his daughter watch her mother die.
This time, the cellar didn’t feel familiar and it’s not a joyful feeling that resides in her. Her body reacting to the cold, she was shivering as goosebumps appeared at the same time as she heard footsteps coming her way. Her blood boiling like hot water, she struggled to breathe.
“Call her father.” Gina heard a female voice she had never heard before. She listened to footsteps receding before a whimper escaped her throat.
“Well, you heard the woman, let her talk.” The voice ordered. And just like that, her mouth got freed. “Go on.” The female voice seemed to address her directly.
“What do you want with my father?” She managed to say after she moved her jaws to get rid of the piece of cloth’s taste.
“He’s an old friend.”
“Can’t you just call like normal people instead of abducting his child?” Gina murmured, not totally relieved from the fear. She wanted to appear unmoved and plucked all the courage left in her to get an untroubled voice.
“I know you, Gina.” The voice started, getting closer. “You alright? You’re trembling.” Well, it seems like all the effort she put in wasn’t enough, her true emotions were discovered.
“You know me, huh? So you know as soon as you detach me I’ll assault you and spit right in your face, right?” She angrily let out, she didn’t accept to be defeated nor seen while being vulnerable and defenceless.
But it seems like the individual challenged her, because she heard someone pass behind her and loosen the cords holding back her hands. At the same moment, the piece of cloth blinding her fell on her collarbones.
Before her, stood straight a woman with a closed face, her facial traits weren’t aggressive, but in her eyes, Gina could swear she saw in there an untamed fire. Her brown eyes slid to a sitting white dog near the stranger, it looked like a wolf, even its huge size reminded her of the fierce beast she read about as a teenager.
It was ridiculous to see this situation unleashed the least probable memories of her youth into her mind as vividly as yesterday.
“Who are you? What do you want?” The woman before Gina mimicked her voice, a smile drawing on her lips. “They always ask the same questions.” She shrugged her shoulders seeing Gina’s surprised expression. The freshly Gray woman closed her mouth that was slightly open in an “o” shape and clenched her jaw.
“Well, I need your father to come here, in England. And you,” she tapped Gina’s end of nose, “you’re the thing that’ll make him travel the world all the way to Birmingham. To my greatest pleasure,” She patted her own chest before motioning to Gina, “and much to your displeasure.”
Gina didn’t even know what to say, she used the time the woman spent talking to massage her wrists as the cords were tied very tight. Her gaze dawdled on the woman in front of her, she was wearing a very long purple coat to which two buttons situated at the waist of its owner were closed. She also wore black lace gloves with ostentatious golden rings above the fabric. The diamonds of her rings were blue, matching her earrings. When the woman turned to the side to pat her dog’s head, Gina noticed she had braided her hair in a single braid that fell on her back.
The woman crouched down for her eyes to be at the same level as the dog’s ones, one of her hands scratching its head. “One single word and it attacks you, so you better behave.” She turned her head to Gina, warning her. The blonde woman glared at the other before glancing toward the dog in anticipation.
Y/N got back up and turned her back to Gina as she started to walk toward the stairs. “Get comfortable, it’s your new home for a few days.”
“What, you’re leaving me in this? With the dog?” She screamed at the Y/H/C haired woman.
“If I were you, I’d avoid screaming, Gina doesn’t like too loud noises.” She waved goodbye as answering without even glancing toward Gray.
“What?” Gina asked, confusion in her voice.
Y/N chuckled a bit before turning around, her index went from the dog to Gina, “Yeah, meet your twin.” She walked backwards a couple of seconds before turning back to the stairs and climbing them.
(...)
House Of Commons, London.
The door of Tommy’s office abruptly opened on an angry Michael.
The Shelby brother that was pouring himself some whisky glanced at his cousin. “Michael.” He welcomed.
“Where the fuck is my wife, Tommy?” Gray asked, frowning.
“What?” He squinted his eyes.
“Where. The. Fuck. Is. My. Wife.” Michael spitted each word, looking straight into his older cousin’s eyes.
Tom blinked a couple times, not understanding the request.
“Days ago when coming back from the fucking restaurant some fucking people took her.” The younger Gray calmed a bit, seeing that Tommy truly didn’t know what he was talking about.
“How did they look?” Tom asked, concerned. Even if Michael might have betrayed him, he was family still and anyone jeopardizing the life of a member of the Shelby clan or someone related to them should taste the sweet fondles of death’s fingers.
“Men in fucking black.” Michael started to pace up and down, both his hands passing over his face. “I’m getting mad, Tom, me head fucking all over the place...” He continued.
“Men, no women?” Tommy brows raised, he had to ask. He remembered the conversation he had with that librarian when she was telling him she thought Gina was the weakness and force of his cousin and that she might do something about it.
“No.” Michael stated firmly. Tommy’s tensed shoulders relaxed. “Or..” Tommy raised his brows. “I don’t know, Tom. Fuck.”
“We’re going to find her, Michael. Stay in your hotel room, stay put, near the phone, right?” The Shelbys' head tapped his cousin’s shoulder before leaving the office.
(...)
He stopped the car near the portals and got out, a cigarette hanging on his lips. Tommy walked the pointlessly long alley, by-passing a ton of fountains and trimmed bushes of different forms and shapes.
The fair distance gave him time to rethink everything that concerned Y/N and his relationship with her. If she truly was behind the disappearance of his cousin’s wife, he would have to deal with her, meaning going to war, which was far from the plan since he entered politics.
He knocked on the door without waiting any further once he joined the principal door. He was looking intently at the windows trying to see a silhouette through it or an ignited light of some sort, but nothing.
The door abruptly opened, making a loud noise and the figure of the librarian was to be seen. Tommy raised his hand to her face, pointing his gun at her, but when her body was fully visible thanks to the moon shining, he blinked, bewildered.
His eyes dropped on a Y/N only dressed with an emeraude lace nightgown. The top was all see-through, but it didn’t stop him from cocking the gun and hold it steady in between her eyebrows. Even though he was here because he suspected her to have turned her back to him, his body reacted a whole different way to the view. His heart started to pounder in his chest as a warmth suddenly took prisoner his upper body. He swallowed in an attempt to dismiss the feeling ready to burst out.
“Missing our start?” She let out, not even pretending to be scared or shook by the situation. As a matter of fact, in their second meeting, Tom indeed pulled a gun at her, how could he forget that. Nobody ever had the nerve to threaten him on his own doorsteps, but of course, she did.
“Where’s Gina?” He ignored she was half-naked along with her remark.
“What the fuck, Thomas?” One of her eyebrows raised in confusion. “What’s happened?”
Tommy switched the position of his fingers, putting his index right on top of the trigger to make known he knew she was lying.
As she felt the danger, the woman banged the door on Tom’s face and not even a second later, he heard bullets being fired as he saw holes drawing through the door. The time stopped, or at least everything appeared as slower.
He instinctively put his arms over his head and kneeled as other bullets were being fired, he managed his way to the wall of the mansion, staying down.
“Fucking hell, Y/N!” He shouted his lungs out, his ears whistling due to the bullets’ noise.
“Remember when I warned you, Thomas. You pull a gun, I shoot!” She accentuated the last part, her tone underlined by anger.
“Why did you take her?” He kept his head close to the wall as shaking it, trying to totally recover his hearing.
“You should’ve asked that when you could, Sergent Major.” She calmly stated.
Tommy could hear she was re-loading her gun.
He looked at the gravels under him and recognized the bullet belonging to a rifle. He frowned, wondering how come she got a rifle.
“No. Put down the rifle, I'm throwing me gun.” He said loudly before dropping his gun in the grass far away from him, his weapon made a muffled noise while encountering the ground.
He didn’t hear anything for a minute that seems to last hours. The night breeze came fondling his face, helping him to ease his breath as the silence made him fully recover his hearing.
The front door opened, and Y/N peeked through. Only one of her Y/E/C eyes was to be seen, and even if her pupil was dilated due to the adrenaline, her look seemed concerned. “Are you hurt?” She solemnly asked, she, as well, being out of breath.
Tommy shook his head on both sides before he managed to stand, helped by the wall.
“You mad woman.” He closed his eyes as taking a deep breath in, knowing she wouldn't try to kill him tonight. When he opened his eyes again, she was in front of him, barefoot on the gravel.
“Sorry… I tend to lose my shit when I’m in danger.” She placed the rifle hanging around her neck to her side, a hand holding it still.
“You weren’t. I wasn’t gonna fucking shot, just trying to scare you.”
“...Well you angered me.” She hesitated in even giving him an answer. She finally decided she didn't need the rifle anymore and went placing it against the wall.
“Not fear, eh?” He teased, and she shook her head as a response.
“Why the fuck did you take Gina away? Michael’s all over the place, he even came to me. The boy’s fucking losing it.”
“Well, firstly, he deserved a little reminding he was still a boy as you correctly underlined,” she raised her brows looking at him, “secondly, after further research, I found it I know her father. Long story short, he’s the only one to be able to deal with her uncle if we don’t want any blood spilt.”
“Fucking was about to spill me gut on your doorstep, the fuck you care about spilt blood, Y/N?” He furrowed his brows as agitating one of his hands, motioning to the ground beneath their feet.
“Yeah,” she acquiesced, “not me that cares about fucking family. It’s you.”
That’s when he realized how serious she took their partnership. When he thought she was solely doing what fitted her best, she indeed took into consideration Tommy's convictions. She took seriously the fact he didn't want the family to be hurt. And although he ranged on her side regarding scaring Michael a bit to make him realize something, he never thought of Y/N to be tough enough to act with as much strategy as ruthlessness. She definitely outdid him in this case.
This sudden realisation aroused something in him. She cared. Even if the care she gave was nonetheless peculiar and typical to her character, she did what she could with what she had right? And right now she was working with him with as much resilience and fierceness as she would do with her own organisation.
“If it was up to me, fucking bullets to the head for both of ‘em and we done.” She dismissively worded as looking afar. “Where’s your gun?” She lazily looked back at him.
Tommy hesitated a short period of time before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her against himself. She didn’t push him away as he neared his face near her, she was the one sealing their lips together. This time, none of them were eager for the other, their kiss was light, soft and pure, contrasting with the chaotic situation they put themselves in.
The blue-eyed man slipped a hand on her back, fondling her skin above the piece of cloth covering her body while she reached for the button of his pants under his coat.
The atmosphere switched, not even seconds earlier it was love talking, now it was a whole another emotion ruling them.
Tom started to walk toward the door, forcing her to walk backwards. When she understood what he intended to do she murmured a soft “No.” and he opened his eyes darkened by desire and urge, looking into hers that were screaming for sex.
A smile grew on her lips as she went sticking her back to the nearest wall, her fingers strongly gripping on the man’s tie. He didn’t break the eye contact and joined her, flattening one of his hands on the cold wall. The warmth of his longing for the woman added to the coldness of the night were mixing together so well he felt a little dizzy.
He couldn’t think about how often he imagined them during their first time or how often he tried to picture Y/N’s curves in his head but his body somehow knew how much he wanted this. His hands were dawdling on any portion of her figure he could find, gulping each piece that was giving to him as if she was the first woman he’d ever touched.
Each kiss enticed him a bit more and whenever he closed his eyes he could literally see fireworks exploding everywhere in him. And whenever he would open them, he would find Y/N looking intently at him, her expression revealing everything she could never tell him, her feelings for him as well as her deepest fear, frustrations & beyond, her eyes being the messenger of the immensity of a soul, to another.
She quickly got to his bum she previously teased with one knee before reaching for his length.
Her cold fingers struck it a few times before she came aligning him with the distress for feeling him inside.
Once he was perfectly aligned, she released him and reunited her lips to his, where they belonged, giving him the green light. He thrust slowly at first, letting her some time to get used to his size. She murmured a low “Tommy...”, her legs encircling his hips as he grabbed one of them firmly. He was keeping her as close to him as possible, making sure their bodies were as connected as their souls were. He ultimately began to come and go, increasing his pace as time passed by.
Her high pitched moans came directly to his ears, the best sounds he’s heard out of his entire life without a doubt.
Following Chapter ❱
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