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euphoricsunflowers · 2 years

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until my lips turn blue — jeon wonwoo

a/n: thank you to @etherealyoungk for inspiring the confidence and motivation i needed for this! and thank u to @pusoatbuwan for being the best thank u bestie :) i hope you all like it !!

word count: 6.8k

content: fem!reader, mafia au, non idol au, mafia boss!reader, hacker!wonwoo, seungcheol is a bit of a dick i’m so sorry this is not representative of him irl, bestie mingyu, random monsta x kihyun cameo bc i needed a random idol lol, angst, mentions of food, murder, weapons, and drugs to varying degrees.

summary: to thank you for your gracious efforts in tracking down an attacker, seventeen offers to repay your favor. you ask for a date with the cute one with glasses.

“so,” you say, gazing at the fresh scar on seungcheol’s cheek. it hasn’t had a chance or any time to fade yet and you can tell by the fire in the eyes of his men that this was recent, “what happened?”

it’s hard to remember how you exactly got wrapped up in this mess. seungcheol ‘invited’ you over to discuss a certain issue, something vague like ‘internal matters’, but it felt off from the get-go. something was wrong.

and, clearly, you can tell something is wrong now.

he heaves out a sigh, letting his head fall into his hands before pushing his hair out of his face, “i don’t even know,” he says, “all i know is that my underboss in currently in the hospital, lying to every single medical personnel about why he has stab wounds on his thigh.”

your eyes wander around the room and they find a picture of seungcheol with another person, smiling like they were friends. you’d learn later that was him. yoon jeonghan. the underboss.

there’s 11 other people in this room besides you and seungcheol, which adds up in relation to your current knowledge of seventeen’s higher-ups. contrary to the name, there's 13 of them that are considered the most important to the seventeen organization, including their boss.

Seungcheol eyes burn into you, but you hold your ground, “well, that is unfortunate. i do send him my best regards, and i hope he recovers well and quickly, but i suppose…” you look around at all of the others, as if to calculate in your head the best move, “i don’t know what it is you want from me.”

“if i may be blunt,” he says as a proposition, but it’s more like a question. you nod, “i don’t know either,” he admits, “i don’t know what i expect you to be able to do, much less be willing to do. what i do know though, is that you have a reputation of being able to track people down like a hawk.”

you don’t acknowledge the compliment. he shifts, almost uncomfortably.

“all i am currently requesting is your assistance in finding the one who attacked us. should you help us, we will compensate you in whatever means you see fit,” he says almost desperately, you can’t see it in his face but you feel it, “i want revenge. i need your help to get it.”

“you’ll make sure i get something out of it?”

he sighs, “i’ll see to it that you get whatever you want out of this.”

“what do you know?” when you ask, one of the 11 other men steps up, handing a folder to you.

he doesn’t bother introducing himself, but you know of him. he’s incredibly well known for being able to gather information. he probably knows the street you grew up on and the color of your socks right now off the top of his head. his name is joshua, you remember. you’ve heard someone call his name before.

“these are stills from the security footages of the compound. this here—” he points to a spot on the first paper in the folder, “— is our guy. right here, he gets into a car. i ran the license plate, and it’s registered this individual here.” he points again, this time to a mugshot in the next page. there’s a list of charged and convicted crimes next to the picture, “but i don’t think they’re the same person. they have different builds.”

you agree, soon focusing on the name of the individual the car belonged to, “i know this man.”

seungcheol perks up at the good news, “you do? from where?”

“he’s the director of financial operations at a company an associate of mine owns. he’s very powerful, but he’s also had accusations of corruption and funding violence for years,” you say, “he responds to me directly, actually. it shouldn’t be too hard to get the info out of him.”

“well then,” seunghcheol says, “my men will assist you in any way required for the operation. feel free to ask for their assistance,” and with that, he leaves the conference room.

“is there anything required of any of us for you to investigate, miss?” one of them says after a moment. he’s tall, has too pretty a face for this kind of business. he kinda looks like a puppy.

“no, i should be able to go from here,” you make eye contact with another one. he’s wearing glasses, the thin frames complimenting his face well. he doesn’t acknowledge you more than just the brief eye contact, looking away as soon as it happens, “i’ll call the director now.”

“go right ahead,” joshua says, and you pull your phone out and call him, putting it on speaker.

the phone rings several times. there’s an unplaced tension in the room, and you’re not sure who exactly here is bubbling with anger, but you reconcile it with the fact that these are not just associates. they’re friends. and their buddy is in the hospital.

right before the last ring ends before it’ll stop trying, he picks up.

“hello?” he says.

“director lee, hello, thank you for taking my call,” you say, feeling eyes on you from all over the room.

he responds, “ah yes, hello boss. it’s my pleasure. what can i do for you?”

“well, i was hoping you could inform me on something,” you say, relaxing more into the chair, “you see, i’ve been looking for an individual who was found driving your car last night in unknown territory. did you know about this?”

he pauses. you can tell it’s to come up with a lie on the spot, “no, in fact. i had just assumed my car was stolen. i was almost about to alert the police, but i’m sure you understand why i did not.”

“i understand, director. i need you to cooperate with me,” you say.

“yes, boss. what can I do for you?” he asks.

you take in a deep breath, saying, “for reasons i am unable to disclose, i believe this individual is after us. also, the most recent sighting of your car after it was found so far away is in our territory, at the diner down the street from headquarters,” you fake a pause to hopefully show some hesitancy. you were far too good at playing scared, “i am… nervous, director. this individual stole your car, could have obtained the weapons we keep near the peer, there’s no telling what they’re up to or who sent them.”

the all watch you make a dramatic voice as you play up any potential worries. that’s the only way he’ll talk.

“i understand, miss. may i speak openly?” his question makes them all look up, and you almost have to mute yourself to silence your victory.

“yes, director. tell me,” you say with a hidden smirk on your face.

he pauses, and you worry for a second that he’s going to chicken out, but he doesn’t, “i sent the individual. my car was never stolen.”

bingo.

you ask, “who is it?”

“i’ll send over the information after this call,” he says. there’s a smile on joshua’s face as you look up, both silently understanding the victory you just won, “i wanted to send a message to seventeen, but he must have been attacked because he sent me a voice recording shortly after coming into contact with one of the higher-ups. something about accidentally hurting one of them before he got a chance to say something.”

you ask, trying to prompt more out of him, “what were you trying to say to them?” you only ask because you know they’d want you to.

“i do not have the best relationship with their leader. the reason is unrelated to our purposes in our group. i apologize for stressing you, boss.”

you respond with a simple, “i see, thank you, director.”

“of course, miss, should i send you the information right away?” he asks.

“yes, as soon as possible. have a good day, director,” you say and hang up. you look up at them as your phone pings. you show the notification to joshua.

“that’s him,” he says, pulling out a still from his folder, matching them up side-by-side, “this is our guy.”

“i can find him, leave that to me,” you say, “as a favor to seventeen, i’ll take care of him. you will all owe me, though. both for that phone call and for getting my hands dirty.”

“don’t get cocky,” another one says. he’s short, but he’s got this energy that screams ‘fuck with me, i dare you’, “let me know when you get it done.” he hands you a piece of paper with a string of numbers on it. lee jihoon.

you smile, almost like a smirk, “okay.”

and out the room you go.

he’s dead by the morning. you tell jihoon, and get no response, he simply hangs up as soon as he gets the news.

—

the letter is addressed from all of seventeen, but based on the formality of word choice, none of them had a hand in writing it. it was probably written by some subordinate, but it gets a simple message across.

seventeen’s acknowledgement that you were owed a favor. the, in writing, paper that guaranteed you something in return. it felt like solid gold.

you spend some time thinking about what it is exactly that you would like from them. there’s not many limits. if you wanted someone dead, they’d have it done by sunset. if you want illegal weapons for your own plans, they would provide them easily. anything you want, they could do.

that was what was so nice about your relationship with seventeen: you may not get along as people, but you get along as business partners. there is no worry that you will be attacked in their headquarters, and vice versa.

but did you need illegal weapons? not really. your casino heist plans were being made smoothly, and there were not many materials you could have requested to make it any easier. you had access to everything you would need, and then some.

did you need anyone dead? not particularly right now. there’s nothing you need help with right now, aside from maybe needing help with throwing a surprise birthday party for your niece. that, though, was doable on its own.

and then, the idea dawns on you.

—

the letter you return back is, on the contrary, written by you. seungcheol knows it’s you, because he’s seen your handwriting. you state your pleasure with working with them. you thank them for their assistance, especially joshua’s, in finding the first piece of evidence.

the moment you are done with formalities, you don’t hesitate to describe, in extreme, excruciating detail, the favor you would like back from them.

‘a date with the cute one that wears glasses’

you ask for a date. you couldn’t remember his name at the time of writing, so you describe him as the ‘one with the glasses’. you describe exactly what you want: a fancy restaurant dinner, him dressed in a suit with styled hair away from his eyes and maybe some jewelry, definitely wearing his precious specs. you’d pay, he’d walk you to your car, and the second the door shut and you were being driven away, seventeen will have paid their favor back.

your letter even reads:

‘there are no ulterior motives. should the favor be paid back successfully, SEVENTEEN will not be bothered over this matter again. should the favor not be paid back in this way, an alternative favor will not be provided unless sufficient reason is given.”

seungcheol almost laughs when he sees the letter, as he’s the first to read it. he wonders if you’re even being serious. it’s probably the most ridiculous request he’s ever gotten, but he can’t come up with a single reason as to why you’d play a prank like this, so he comes to the conclusion that you’re most likely serious.

a copy of the letter is sent over to wonwoo, the one with the glasses, and he reads it probably fifty times. maybe fifty-one.

nothing has ever made him so embarrassed, that’s the issue. not a single mistake he’s ever made or being chastised for not being good enough at his job has had the same effect. he feels the way mingyu’s eyes bore into him, knowing that wonwoo told him all about how he thought you were pretty, and that if you weren’t 1) a boss and 2) literally terrifying to speak to, he’d be down bad.

he feels awkward and clumsy for sticking out, for being the one pushed into the spotlight. he doesn’t particularly want to be the center of attention, but here he is, in his boss’s office, surrounded by his closest associates. he feels weirdly small as he sinks into the chair.

“i know this is… unconventional, wonwoo,” seungcheol says to him, leaning against his desk, “but you need to do this. it’s only dinner and we can’t owe her for much longer.”

“i know,” he says.

seungcheol continues, “there isn’t much of a choice, as well, you know that right?”

wonwoo recognizes the fading scar on seungcheol’s cheek as seungcheol talks to him. he remembers the moment it happened.

this was more than just giving you what you wanted so you were even as groups, but about genuinely thanking you for such a deed. he remembers watching jeonghan get stabbed in the thigh to protect chan. he remembers all the blood, that horrified look on chan’s face. that guy must have known he was a dead man the second he hurt jeonghan, that could have been why he ran. seungcheol is protective of all of them, but especially him.

“i know, i’ll do it,” he says, “i’ll do whatever is required of me. you know that, boss.”

“i know you will, it’s just that…” seungcheol looks uneasy, shifting his eyes away, “i don’t want this to become a bigger thing. don’t develop feelings, don’t do anything to make her develop feelings. just don’t make this messy. and don’t make it my problem.”

“i won’t,” wonwoo is, even in the best case scenario, slightly overestimating himself. he knows that, yet he still lies (not exactly but that’s what it feels like) through his teeth, “this won't become a problem.”

“it better not, now go,” seungcheol orders, trying to make it sound harsh. it doesn’t, though, not to wonwoo. it sounds more like ‘don’t fuck this up for yourself’.

—

wonwoo reads your letter for the fifty-second time. this time, he’s closely checking your instructions on how you wanted him to dress. it’s a little bit weird, but he supposes you’re going somewhere fancy, and maybe he has to match.

he sighs dramatically, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

why is he dressing up in a suit he never wears to come meet you, a literal mob boss that thought he was cute, at some restaurant he doesn’t even know exists, to have dinner with you and play along to make you happy but not enough for either of you to get too attached?

what does he even think he’s doing?

he has literally killed people before, but that was so much simpler than this. slicing someone’s throat is so much less complicated than picking out a tie to wear to your date. everything down to asking him to wear a little bit of gold jewelry— gold, not silver— was complicated. he doesn’t understand this at all.

he’s somewhat horrified that this will go wrong, but if he thinks about it as only ‘a pretty girl asked him on a date’ and forgets all the context, he can breathe slower.

He leaves the compound with mingyu to act as a body guard, and then to sit at the bar area during your date to be there in case something happened. mingyu had told him he had no plans of interrupting anything in case the date goes a little too well, but he did want to be there in case something worse happened and wonwoo wasn’t able to fight on his own.

mingyu enters before him, actually. wonwoo waits by the entrance, just as your letter requests, and he almost wonders for a second if this was all just an elaborate ploy of yours, something just to waste time as you’re comfortably doing whatever mob boss stuff you normally do.

that is until you’re in front of him, in the most stunning sapphire dress he’s ever seen in his life, and he sees why you requested a navy suit on him. you both match perfectly, and he can help but blush like a freaking anime girl when you walk in together. you’re so breathtaking, the kind that could kill.

you had made reservations apparently, and all he could do is watch and follow along cluelessly as you’re taken to the table, and you both sit down.

you take in a breath, and then really look into his eyes. you don’t say anything for a moment, so he tries to start.

“hey,” he says, a little bit breathless, “you look gorgeous, by the way.”

“oh, you don’t have to flatter me, dear. that’s not required of you,” you laugh, and god, it is so beautiful. he could faint right now.

he forgot, honestly, that he didn’t have to impress you. he berated himself for a second when he realizes that he complimented you of his own volition, because he wanted to. that was bad.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to act so nervous. i don’t have any intentions to hurt you,” you say, reaching out for his hand. his hand tremors really had to come at the worst times. your hand is so warm (and he’s such a cold person, he could get used to warm hands holding his cold ones), “is this where you start wondering why i asked you to come on date with me?”

“i’ve been wondering since i read the letter,” he responds. he’s fidgeting, nervous. you have such an intense stare that’s hard to match.

“i’m sure you have,” you say, “if i’m being honest, it didn’t feel like there was much i wanted to ask for. everything is alright— knock on wood— for the moment with me. and i,” you pause, and it catches his attention even more, “i wanted something like this. something normal.”

“i take it… mafia life isn’t really for you, huh?” he half-asks.

“i suppose it’s not too bad of a fit, actually. i think the heists and gambling and money-laundering isn’t too bad. that kind of stuff has been my whole life, so it’s kinda fun to me,” you say, “but it prevents you from living simply. there is no family, there’s no relationships, no house on the hill. i feel like i’m missing out on that aspect of life.”

“yeah, you’re right. i suppose it is sad,” he says. he’s not sure what else to say.

you just continue, “and i just… i wanted to experience something different tonight. maybe i shouldn’t have involved you in my attempt to feel that, or at least didn’t force you to be here.”

“i’m not forced to be here,” he says, even if it’s honestly not very true, “i think i want to be here, too. i’ll experience it with you.”

you smile, and this time it’s softer than he’s ever seen. he can’t seem to remember why your presence was so intimidating before, because in this moment, you are nothing but warm and inviting, “okay, then. it’s settled. let’s have a beautiful night.”

it was cheesy, sure, but it made his heart flutter all the same.

he sees mingyu out of the corner of his eye. he’s sitting at the bar, making small talk with the bartender. wonwoo and mingyu make eye contact, and it’s almost like a series of questions: ‘how is it going? are you alright? do you need me to step in?’

and wonwoo gives a small smile back at him, as if to say ‘i think i’m okay’.

he looks back at you, as you give your order to the server. he doesn’t see someone evil or done anything that is commonplace for his and your kind of life. he just sees you: someone aching for something different. something soft and sweet and normal.

dinner with him flies by, filled with pretty conversations about each other’s lives. you both skirt around conversations about your groups, instead choosing to focus on yourselves. he learn about your hobbies and passions, you learn about his friends and what he likes to do in his free time.

you tell him about the time you were robbing a bank when you were younger. maybe 17. you tell him about the restaurant that’s a front for high-up associates that you used to go to when you were younger. you tell him about how your dad’s assasination put you in the boss spot when you were 19 and stupid and too young for that kind of power. it went to your head and has barely worn off since.

he tells you about how mingyu and him have saved each other’s asses maybe 500 times each. he tells you about how he likes computer games, that if he was given a second shot at life, he’d be a pro-gamer for sure. he tells you about his cat, ranting about how cute it is (and he looks adorable doing it).

wonwoo realizes what’s happening while it’s happening; he’s not dumb or oblivious. he realizes that with every smile, every laugh, every time you get passionate about what you’re talking about and make these dramatic hand movements, and every time you unconsciously make that cute thinking face, he’s falling for you more and more.

and yet he doesn’t have it in himself to pull back; instead, he chooses to lean in. he smiles when you smile, laughs when you laughs, plays along when you tell him overly dramatic stories. he’s so mesmerized that he doesn’t notice the passage of time, how late it’s getting.

what he does notice is you reaching to grab the bill that was dropped off by the server. he snatches it before you can, and quickly puts the money in, catching the server’s attention and asking them to take it now.

you make a upset face at him, but it doesn’t hurt him in the slightest, “my treat.” he says simply.

“i was supposed to pay! you didn’t have to do that!” you argue, and he looks at you with a kind of vulnerability that is so raw, it’s almost infuriating.

“i wanted to. for you.”

you stand, so he stands too. you turn to walk away, but he grasps your wrist at the last second. he thinks you’re about to storm off, mad or something. why were you mad at him? he was trying to do something nice for you!

it’s until you groan and turn back around, getting so so close to him that the rest of the word fades out of view. for a moment it’s just like that. there’s no one else in the world except for you and him.

you’re looking into his eyes, reaching your hand up to lightly cup his cheek, letting your finger drag against his jaw, “can i?” you ask. you don’t even need to say it.

“yeah,” he breathes, shakily, “do whatever you want.”

you kiss him while his stomach does somersaults. his hands find your waist, letting you lead, and, funnily enough, only once he starts to relax, you’re pulling away.

“we should get out of here,” you say, and his heart rate picks up, which you seem to notice (his own heart betrayed him), “we don’t have to do anything, but it’s so loud and energetic in here. i want some peace and quiet.”

he couldn’t agree more. you both walk outside, and he shoots mingyu one last ‘i’m okay’ look, seeing the smirk on his friend’s face may annoy him, but he’s too happy to care.

once you reach your car, you pull him close. his hands rest on the same spot as before, gently on your waist. you ask him, “can i kiss you again?”

“yes,” he whispers back. something about asking the second time feels sweeter, “kiss me a little harder this time, please.”

you smile at his request, gently pressing your lips to his before you grasp the back of his neck to use as leverage when your kiss becomes more intense, giving him what he wants. he’ll always get what he wants now, you suppose. anything he asks for, you’ll give him.

you don’t pull away as fast this time, instead letting him savor the moment.

but you eventually do, pulling back to look at him. he’s so pretty in the moonlight.

“i don’t want this to end,” he says. you smile almost sadly at him.

“i’m sorry, baby, i wish it didn’t have to end so soon, but our agreement was only dinner,” you say, “and you need to go back. our night together has been fun, but this is it. we were only given tonight.”

“i don’t want to go back yet, i don’t want to leave you,” he whispers painfully. god, it was so easy to get comfortable in his arms.

you see that sadness in his eyes, the kind that kills any chance of ever getting over him, “i know, i know, i’m sorry. i didn’t think we would get so close so fast,” you can feel the shaking of his hands even as they rest steady on your hips, “when i asked for a date, i thought it would be a night that would end with no hard feelings about never seeing each other again.”

“well, look where that got us,” he makes himself chuckle, though it’s not out of actual humor.

there’s a pause where neither of you dare to make the next move. there’s a sinking feeling that one of these next kisses will be the last.

“i’ll tell you what: i’ll kiss you until my lips turn blue, so you can never forget what it feels like. not even if you tried,” you say, moving your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“okay,” he responds, “don’t let me forget. don’t ever let me.”

“you know i won’t,” you say, and your kisses are so passionate that for a second, he forgets that he’s jeon wonwoo, seventeen’s best hacker and technology expert, and only knows that he’s yours.

and for you, he’s so sweet, so kind and giving and reciprocative, kissing you back with just as much energy, it’s just as easy to get lost in him.

you stay there for as long as the night will allow, kissing him with feverish intensity, before you really have to send him on his way.

his eyes have that tragic look to them, like he’s sad in such a complicated way. it was never supposed to end like this, with him walking away from you as you get into your car, but the more he thinks about it, he’s wrong.

it was supposed to end like this. with him and you separated.

when he returns, he knows he probably shouldn’t, that he should lie and say it went well (but not too well) and this will not cause future problems, but he tells seungcheol afterwards that he 100% fucked this up for himself. he’s really, really into you.

his boss isn’t surprised.

—

it’s been two months— not exactly, maybe a month and three weeks or so, but close enough— since that night. not a word from seventeen, nor from wonwoo. it’s hard to not wonder what happened between him and his boss as soon as he returned, if he saw those feelings written out all over his associate’s face, or if it was the lipstick stain on his lips that gave it away.

in your world, nothing had changed (except for maybe everything about your soul). nothing about your mob boss life had been altered. seventeen never spoke a word about the favor, not to you or anyone else. even though word travels fast and very easily, it never got back to you that anyone besides you and seventeen knew about it.

maybe it’s a good thing that you haven’t seen or heard from him, that you probably never will again, but him having that much control over you is dangerous because you’re sure that seungcheol knows. he knows wonwoo likes you, he knows you like wonwoo, and everything in between. he has so much power that it’s incomprehensible what he could manipulate you into doing. he probably knows that. he revels in it.

so you made the point to not reach out, knowing there’d be a trade off next time. you assume that’s why it’s radio silence on his end too.

it only hurts a little bit.

—

the news hits you as you’re sitting in your office, drinking your coffee as an associate is detailing all possible back up plans for the casino heist planned for next week.

“hold on one minute,” you say to them, and they immediately shut up, letting you take a call that had come in as they were talking, “yes, kihyun? why are you calling? i thought i told you not to call my personal phone.”

he seems anxious on the other end, which is not pleasant to hear, “i tried, boss, but you weren’t answering. and i know i wasn’t supposed to, but i assumed you would want to hear the news as soon as possible.”

“what news?”

“jeon wonwoo of seventeen went missing three days ago. not even his own associates know where he is or if he’s even alive,” he says, and his words, especially the last few, hit particularly hard.

he’s not dead, right? he can’t be dead.

“i… see. thank you, kihyun,” you say.

“i’m here if you need anything, boss,” he says, but you don’t respond, only hanging up the phone and closing your eyes.

you remember there’s still someone else in the room, so you shoo them out, “we’ll go over these plans tomorrow,” you say, as if to tell them to go away. they catch on.

and you’re suddenly all alone in your office, with nothing but the thought of wonwoo being dead to occupy your thoughts. seventeen had enemies, of course they did, but why wonwoo of all of them? why was he the target? it was just impossible to rationalize why someone would choose him to be the one to take out. what would even be the motive?

it doesn’t seem real, the idea that he could be dead, even though it’s technically possible.

the idea dawns on you that maybe it was someone in his own group, maybe even the whole fucking mafia collectively decided to take him out.

and maybe it was because of you. the idea makes your stomach sick.

it’s impossible to know for sure, and you can’t spend your day getting lost in maybe or possibly. you assume the worst, that he’s probably dead, and give yourself a moment to grieve.

and then it’s back to work.

—

it’s late, so late it’s almost early again, at your residence. the sound of rain is constant and almost soothing as you drink your tea, giving a sense of peace and calm to your night. looking over documents from the casino, everything seems to be in order. last minute preparations for tomorrow are going smoothly, and all that needs to happen now is sleep before the big day.

there’s a ring at your doorbell. so, there goes a peaceful couple hours of sleep.

no one should know that this place exists or that you live here. this place was secret for your own safety and the fact that someone is here, ringing your doorbell at three in the morning is a terrible sign.

you grab the gun you keep under your coffee table as you approach the door. there’s no way to check who it was without letting them know you were there, you just had to open it.

“i’m so sorry i’m here right now!” you hear, barely able to make out the baritone voice over the heavy rain, “i’m sorry i didn’t say anything after that night, i was ordered to not contact you on my own! i’m sorry i’m here, bothering you at your house, but it was the only place i could go!”

when you open the door, the rain covers his frames, concealing his eyes, but it’s him.

not a single thought of ‘how the fuck did you get my address?’ or ‘why did you disappear?’ is more important than him at that moment. you open the screen door and yank him inside, tossing the gun somewhere onto the floor of your kitchen. you rush to grab him a towel, because he’s shivering and freezing and that’s scaring both of you.

you’re borderline yelling at him as you scold him for showing up, especially at this hour, “what were you even thinking? you could have gotten hypothermia! you could exposed this place to people who want me dead! you could have gotten us both killed!”

and yet all he could do is look at you with those beautiful, lovestruck eyes, “i’m so sorry,” he says with a smile.

you hug him, wet clothes and teary eyes and all, crouching down on the floor to meet where he is, curled up in a ball, covering himself up with that towel. he looks so small like this.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers again.

“don’t be, i’m glad you’re alive,” you whisper back, tightening your grip on him as if he’d whither away and disappear if you didn’t.

“i missed you, every single day i thought about you,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“i did too,” you say, “what happened? why did you disappear? when did this become the only place you could go?”

“i-um,” he starts, hesitant and quietly, “i got into a fight with seungcheol. i told him i didn’t want to live like this anymore, and he said he’d… cut off my head if i ever left.”

“but you still left?”

“i had to, i was so unhappy that it was killing me,” he says with more confidence, still holding onto you like you’re his lifeline, “and, god, i’m so into you that it hurt so bad to never talk to you again. how the hell was i supposed to move on?”

“so what happened after you left? where did you go?”

“mingyu told me i could crash on the couch at his place out of town while i tried to find you, but seungcheol beat that information out of him,” he pulls away just a bit to look at you while he speaks, still holding on for what feels like dear life, “i found this place about a week ago, but it wasn’t until i was literally running for my life that i felt there was nowhere else i could go.”

his stomach rumbles, so you ignore his words for the present and ask, “oh my god, when’s the last time you ate? no, don’t even answer me, i’m making you ramen.”

“it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“don’t say another word, unless it’s to tell me you’re dying. you’re going to go take a nice, warm shower, and then eat some ramen before we even think about what to do about you going forward,” you cut him off, but your scolding tone is so filled with love and care that he doesn’t mind.

he showers, finally feeling the relief of warm water. he always hated being cold in any capacity, much less freezing to death.

he changes into the clothes you give him: an oversized crewneck and some sweatpants. when he walks back into the kitchen, where you are, he pulls the sleeves as far as they’ll go, giving himself cute little sweater paws.

he’s so adorable, so easy to fall for.

you place a bowl of ramen in front of a seat at the kitchen counter, “eat up, baby.”

baby. he could get used to being called something like that. easy. he sits at the counter, eating like a madman once he realizes how hungry he truly is.

you watch him tenderly, all the adrenaline having faded out and now he’s just here. what are you even gonna do with him? you can’t just kick him out, he’ll get found immediately. so long as no one else finds out about this place, you’re both safe.

he can’t return to seventeen, though. maybe that thought has sunken in for him too, because when he looks up at you and smiles when he sees you looking at him, he’s not smiling like how he did last time you saw him. his smile is smaller and more forced.

all his friends he left behind, all his past he left behind, and that comfortable life he left behind, all to be here, with you.

“what now?” you ask, and the depth of the question is not absent in his mind. he knows what you mean.

he frowns, playing with his chopsticks, “i… i don’t know. i can’t go back, but i’m unsure how to move forward.”

“do you want to give up this life completely? just start fresh?”

“i don’t think so. it’s all i know, all i feel competent at, and if i’m being honest, i don’t mind it. i just need something more,” he says with a chuckle, “i don’t think i could live a life of white picket fences and nuclear families.”

“then,” you say, sitting at the spot next to him at the counter, “consider joining me. i can’t give you a top position, but you can continue your work as a hacker under my group. as much as i want to give you choice, i'm gonna be honest with you: that’s your only good option.”

“i know,” he says.

it hurts a little bit, and he knows what you’re gonna say before you say it, “and i'm sorry i have to say it out loud, but… this will provide you protection against seventeen.”

which is the most miserable thing to think about: his own friends coming to kill him. he’s a traitor now, though. he knows he’s dead to seungcheol. it hurts him somewhere deep in his chest every time he thinks about it.

“okay,” he says, somewhat dully, “i guess i don’t have much of a choice.”

“it’s not that you don’t have a choice in the matter, but you only have one good one,” you say, matter-of-factly, “you won’t be safe anywhere else-”

“i’m sorry,” he says suddenly, and it’s heartbreaking how he just can’t stop saying it, “i’m just so sorry. i put you and mingyu in danger just so i could have a chance to escape. he even let me stay on his couch and then got hurt because of my selfishness.”

“it’s not fair to you to judge yourself so harshly like that. mingyu did that because he wanted to, for you. you couldn’t stop whatever hell came after,” you say, comfortingly, “it’s better to be selfish than unhappy. if mingyu knew you were safe with me, he’d see his efforts as worthwhile.”

“and what about you?” he asks.

“what about me?”

“i put you in danger,” he says.

“wonwoo, i’m a mob boss. and a woman one at that. i’m always in danger,” you say, “it’s nothing new.”

“but-”

“stop talking,” you order, and he complies. you sigh, “it’s not worth it to think about all the things you did wrong. where you are now is where you are; there’s no changing that.”

“i’m sorry,” he laughs breathlessly, “can you just kiss me if you need to shut me up?”

you look into his eyes once again, seeing nothing but beauty and honesty in them. your hand reaches to tilt his chin up as you lean in for a kiss, and all the passion of that night comes back in full force, except with so much more vulnerability and tenderness.

but he pulls away this time.

why is he about to cry?

he answers the question for you, “i’m sorry, i uhm- i’m sorry,” he whispers, his apologies stabbing you incessantly, “nothings wrong. i’m just… so happy. i’m so happy we ended up like this. nothing compares to you.”

i’m so happy we got the happy ending (somewhat).

tomorrow (well, more like later today. in a few hours) he’ll be jeon wonwoo, the best hacker in the area, known for being able to hack into power grids and major international banks. maybe he’ll be there with you, keeping track of the operation, taking down security cameras or disrupting communications.

but for tonight, he’s simply wonwoo. he holds you like he doesn’t want anything else from this life.

nothing compares to this.

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #wonwoo angst #wonwoo fluff #seventeen mafia au

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honeytea8 · 4 years

Text

✨✨La Squadra Boyfriend Headcanons✨✨

[Alexa, play Boyfriend by Big Time Rush]

Guys, I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about La Squadra, so here are some bf headcanons for the sexiest group of assassins in Naples. No one asked but I am bringing it straight to your dash anyway! (under the cut for length lmao)

I’m going to start with Prosciutto, who has recently fallen on my radar pretty heavy!

He’s a good and decent boyfriend, if not a busy one. Not that he doesn’t care about the relationship, but most of his energy was going to Passione things before you waltzed in and so he’ll struggle a bit between his work responsibilities and maintaining his relationship with you, but only in the beginning.

If you are also a part of Passione, it’s a hell of a lot easier to manage.

I see Prosciutto as the gift-giving type: lingerie, sweets, perfume, designers, etc. His salary isn’t the best, but he manages it as well as he can just to accommodate you!

I just can’t get the idea out of my head that Pro was raised by a strict mama, that’s why he can be a bit of a stickler sometimes. He’ll catch you still lounging in bed at nine am, and be like “Why are you still in bed? Get dressed, we’re going out.” Dude!

I’m sorry to say, but Prosciutto is absolutely the ‘lecturing’ type. (He lectured someone in nearly every scene in the anime, Formaggio once and Pesci numerously and Bucci too)

He will lecture you when you make mistakes, especially because as his s/o, he has high expectations for you and believes you’re capable of so much more. It’s never, ever out of hate. He loves you, and that’s why he chides you a bit lol.

This does not negate the fact that he doesn't mind when you lean on him for support. He likes when you count on him, because he always comes through especially for you!

Depending on whether you’re in the mafia or not, I totally see him sparring with you, or working out with you in an effort to make you tough. Prosciutto wants you to be able to defend yourself, just in case. If you complain, he’ll tell you, “Better safe than sorry, tesoro”.

Prosciutto will respect you, period.

A good listener, goddamn! He’s up there with Risotto when it comes to who listens to their s/o more! If you have an issue, he’ll hear you out and offer advice if you want it. If you give him advice, he’ll take it into serious consideration. He’s honestly a good partner, can’t stress that enough.

Finally, sex with Pro is an entire event. Romantic dinner, candles lit, wine, the whole nine yards before he gives you nine inches of something else :) (I’m kidding!! Lmao, kinda).

But as I said, Prosciutto is quite deliberate, and a bit of a perfectionist. He knows what to do and how to do it, you can trust him.

Ghiaccio is next only because he’s my favorite.

The ice gremlin is probably the most interesting (and hilarious) boyfriend out of the bunch (I say this with only a tidbit of bias). He isn’t funny himself, but funny shit just happens to him.

Because of this, he will use you as a soundboard when everyone else refuses to listen to him. He’s got a lot to say, so be prepared for his TEDtalks. LMAO!

It will take some perception on your part to notice when he actually expects a response from you, and other times he’s just ranting to get his point out.

He will correct your grammar when you text, but barely notices when he makes a similar mistake (his brain moves in mph). Please use the proper names like Venezia, Italia, Roma and Napoli when talking to this man; save yourself from the headache.

When it comes to dates, please have mercy on him, he’s a textbook over-thinker! You’ll just have to plan something simple at home for you both to enjoy.

He isn’t incapable of planning dates, but he’ll want everything to be so absolutely perfect for his s/o and will throw a fit when it ultimately isn’t.

Contrary to popular belief, I think that Ghiaccio is a pretty attentive partner. He’s super intelligent and I think a part of it stems from his innate ability to read people (I’m referencing the part in the anime where he deduced what Giorno and Mista had come to look for, while going off very little information).

The more time he spends with you, the better he gets at it.

His form of affection will be shown through the amount of time you both spend together. When it comes to sex or anything related to that, be gentle and slow as Ghiaccio will likely be a flustered mess.

As he becomes more comfortable and confident, he will be bolder and just ask out right if you’ll suck him off tonight or not. The man appreciates directness, so don’t bother being coy. “You want me to give you head? Cool, lay down a towel or something.” is what he’ll probably say.

Very practical 👌🏾👌🏾

Melone, good lord, he’s kind of perfect.

A bit of a doting boyfriend here and there—very much concerned about your health. Expect him to ask if you’ve eaten, or taken your multivitamin. How are your bowel movements? LMAO

It can become a bit much, but he really genuinely cares. He’s not asking to be intrusive or nasty! If he was, you’d know. 🤣

But I seriously consider Melone to be the one (at least among La Squadra) who is way, way invested in his relationships. He will know every little detail about you; will ask you lots of questions and expects you to ask him just as many.

This may be annoying to some, but this dude will definitely bring up your horoscope in an argument. He’ll be like “I honestly can’t fathom why you’re being this way, though it’s to be expected from a libra.”

Peg this bitch so he can shut up.

Melone is also touchy as hell, but not in a clingy way. He loves touching, and just to tag onto the headcanon about his partial blindness, I want to say that he’s so touchy because that’s how he ‘sees’ you best.

Just know that half the time, he isn’t touching you to be lecherous, even if he genuinely does like the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Melone will even encourage you to touch him back.

Rub his thigh or back and he’ll be simping.

He is obsessed with your legs, and will paint your toes if you let him.

LOVES PDA! Melone will also tongue-kiss you in public if you let him!

Notice how I keep saying ‘if you let him’. Give him an inch and he’ll press you for a mile, so if there are boundaries you would like to establish, please do, cuz he sure as hell won’t, just saying!

When it comes to sex, Melone is a dick and coochie sensei. Oral is his favorite thing to do, probably enjoys giving more than receiving to be honest. I’d say he’s pretty much mastered sex for what it is.

That being said, if he’s ever talking out of his neck, just invite him to put his mouth to better use. He’ll even thank you for your gracious request.

Formaggio is next 💀

According to my JoJo compatriots from discord, he’s like the Optimus Prime of fuckboi’s so let’s ride that wave for a bit! LMAO

I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise that Formaggio is pretty shameless. He will send you a dick pic on Sunday morning before church and have the audacity to say “Just wanted to bless you real quick”.

@autumn-kouhai mentioned him giving his s/o sickly sweet pet names and I just have to agree.

Expect to be hit upside the head with: baby-boo, sugar plum, honey bunches, sweetums. I can imagine them becoming really ridiculous too like “the last piece of red velvet cake” or “cheddar bae biscuits from Red Lobster”

His catch phrase is “Got nudes?”

Send them, and he won’t be afraid to reply with something equally sexy.

Be warned though, he will stockpile whatever you send him and then be careless with his phone. If you don’t mind Illuso’s snoopy ass seeing your nudes then by all means, have at it. Otherwise, send them through snapchat, so they disappear later.

As far as La Squadra boyfriends go, he’s the most fun! Y’all don’t even go anywhere because man’s is broke. BUT, Formaggio knows how to have a good time without any need to spend money (my kind of dude tbh) you guys just crank up the tunes, dance, and get lit until the neighbors complain.

Formi is also the CEO of jokes/memes, and will have you in absolute tears almost always! I literally tell my friends that funny guys are so dangerous, don’t sleep on them! They will make you laugh until your panties drop, it’s magic, I swear. Formaggio has that same energy.

No matter how bad of a day his s/o is having, rest assured, he will draw the biggest laugh out of you.

Besides his fuckboi tendencies, his most redeeming quality is the fact that he’s super cool and fun to hang with. You’ll literally have a good time, always, because his energy is right! Very good vibes around this man, I swear! It’ll be exactly like dating your best friend, because essentially, he will be your bestie.

Formi has many moments of tenderness that aren’t sexually charged too—moments where the jokes stop and he’ll just rub your back or feet, this is usually when you aren’t feeling well and need some quiet.

However, Formaggio won’t let you mope all day, he’ll pull out the big guns and call you his “sweetie baby” and when you try to resist he’ll say “What, I’m just tryna show you some love.”

He’s a good dude lmao I’d date a guy like him irl 😭

Pesci stans wya??! Let’s get into this baby boy.

Pesci is boyfriend material, idgaf what anyone says.

He is pretty much the least problematic to be with among all of La Squadra, even more so than Risotto (don’t argue with me).

Pesci is hyper aware of your likes and dislikes and will literally go out of his way to make sure that you’re well and okay.

Arguments are basically nonexistent and if they occur it ain’t coming from his side.

I also think that Pesci has a lot of empathy, so when you’re going through something, he’s right there in the thick of it with you. If you’ve seen that meme that goes ‘when my gf is on her period it’s UterUS’ lmao that’s Pesci’s energy 100%.

Sometimes, he’s more of a lover and not a fight, that is perfectly okay!

However, if someone tries up his s/o, say farewell to Mr. Niceguy. He will defend your honor to his dying breath. And with you in his corner, trust me, he’s not going down.

A romantic at heart, Pesci will plan little date trips like picnics in the park or boat trips to Capri, actually, I’d like to point out that he excels in the art of date planning. If you’re the adventurous type, he’ll plan outings where you both will be more active, like biking through the city or renting a mop-ed and going sight-seeing.

Because Pesci has a sensitive stomach, he’s very much considerate of what you both put in your bodies. If you have dietary restrictions or allergies, this guy knows all about it and will cater to you perfectly.

A true gentleman through and through, he will never force himself on you, ever. In fact, he really doesn’t like engaging in anything sexual when you’re drunk or high, sorry if you’re into that!

Pesci is the kind of guy who keeps up with your favorite shows.

If ya’ll have similar taste in media or literature, he will immerse himself in it so that he can relate to you all the more.

If there’s anyone who will entertain anime-related discourse, no matter how nonsensical, it’s Pesci. And he isn’t just putting up with it, he’s actively engaging in the conversation so you are always heard and validated.

He’s an A+ boyfriend, that’s all I gotta say! Haters can stay mad :)

Goddamn Illuso... idk man.

I really feel like you have to have thick/tough skin to handle this guy, for various reasons.

The first being that Illuso can be a bit mean at first. He’ll push your buttons on purpose just to see what’ll make you tick. Will tease the living heck out of you, always, kind of a bully lmao but not to the extreme, it’s just his brand of humor—and the thing is, he won’t be mad when you dish it right back, so it’s cool.

Secondly, Illuso has big dick energy!!

I mean rightfully so, because he is indeed packing! But my word, he ain’t humble about it at all!

He is not above making jokes about ‘splitting you in half’. In fact all of his jokes have hidden, dirty undertones!

His affection is shown through speech mostly. Illuso will drop subtle innuendos and provocations, half to see you flustered and half because he wants you to know how much he wants you.

Illuso isn’t incredibly vocal about his feelings outside of ‘I’m tryna hit that thang’ but you won’t doubt that he loves you because Illuso doesn’t waste his own time.

If he’s spending his time with you, you can rest assured that it’s because he wants to.

Illuso is a voyeur and you’ll just have to understand/accept that and move on.

He loves watching you and will even creep over to your place through the mirror world just to hang or watch you do chores. Loves to surprise you and give you jump scares lmao it’ll make you a tad paranoid but it’s also fun.

Illuso is prone to random bouts of sweetness; it’s very sporadic, very touch-and-go.

One day, you’ll wake up to chocolates on your dresser or new shoes, lingerie, or makeup if you wear it. I imagine that if you’re low on funds, he will even help you buy your groceries that week.

It’ll surprise the hell out of you, but that’s just how Illuso is. He enjoys keeping you on your toes!

He’s prideful and smug as hell, so he will definitely expect a thank you, because even if he does it out of the kindness in his heart, he also wants to hear that you appreciate him

Same goes for the bedroom scene. Illuso loves making you vocal, it’s his favorite thing in the world, so he’ll make a game out of doing the things that get the biggest reaction out of you. Like I said, it's that big dick energy at work here, smh.

Sorbet and Gelato in a polyamorous relationship with you? Let’s get it!

We don’t get anything substantial about these two except that Sorbet follows the money, so these are all personal headcanons for how I see and write them.

Here’s the juice: when it comes to you as their s/o, these two are possessive as hell. You are theirs and that’s that on that! 😭 Don’t ask questions, just go with it.

Sorbet is the chill one of the duo. He can be a bit smug at times, but he’s mostly a laid back dude who doesn’t get bothered by much.

When it comes to you, Sorbet likes to spend quality time with you more than anything, and will ask you to cook for him at your place so he ain’t gotta spend money. Oh? Did I not mention that I kinda think of him as a cheapskate? Lmao cuz I do.

Sorbet will come by your place just to steal your coupons from the mail then head out; you’re not using ‘em so why should he let them go to waste?

Gelato is the complete opposite; personality wise, I headcanon him as a mix between Melone and Formaggio lmao

But it’s not as crazy as it sounds, he’s cute and outspoken like Melone, while maintaining a free-spirit like Formaggio. One quality that I like is that he’s quite devoted to you and Sorbet. If anyone crosses either of you, goodluck to them!

I like to think Gelato’s also just really boujee and high maintenance. He loves to pamper and be pampered. You and him tag-team Sorbet’s wallet and go on spa dates together at his expense (not that he ever really stood a chance)

While Sorbet is cool with just being in the same room as you, Gelato loves hugging/cuddling with you and Sorbet—will definitely fight for the middle spot between the two of you on the couch during movie nights.

He baby, so let him have it lol

In the bedroom, I would salute anyone with the guts to take the two of them on. They both lay down that work, period.

Sorbet gets his kicks from teasing and edging you (his sadistic side comes out a bit), while Gelato loves when you give him extra TLC. To put it short, they know how to take care of you, so there are no issues there.

Last but not least, Mr. Risotto Nero himself.

Man, idc on the lowest of keys, he seems a little bit like a grandpa to me

The type to sit at home and do crosswords, has a bird feeder in his yard and plays old Italian hits while washing the dishes. It’s very domestic 💀 (I find it cute, whatever!)

As a boyfriend, I can’t imagine him suddenly being spontaneous or outgoing unless you drag him out of his home/comfort zone.

Be patient with Mr. Nero, and he can come to surprise you

After a while, it won’t be just you dragging him out and about; one day he’ll ask you to come over and you’ll be greeted with a nice, traditional, homemade meal

Pay attention and you will notice him watching your face to see if you like his cooking 🥺

After seeing his fight with Doppio, I must admit that Risotto is very, very observant, almost scarily so.

I can totally picture him pointing out random things about his s/o that even they don’t know

One night, Risotto may come up to you and say “I talked to your neighbor about the dog, they’ll keep it inside now.” And you’re just staring like 😳 how did he know the barking was keeping you up at night????

He’s sweet, and will take good care of you as a boyfriend should.

Very good listener, won’t talk as much but will hang on to your every word, I promise. He could even recite it to you verbatim.

He’s a big dude, that ain’t news, so expect to be swallowed up in hugs and sometimes even picked up (as a tall girl myself, I simp!!!)

Gives A1 piggyback rides, lol

ALSO RISOTTO IS HUMBLE ASF!

Big dick energy, but on low volume 👏🏾 after all, he doesn’t need to do much talking, because a night with him is more than enough!

Listen babe, you better stretch, do some squats, and prep in whatever way you can before Mr. Nero gives you that work. 🤐

Lowkey a freak, but it’s well hidden behind his ‘quiet giant’ exterior

So, who are y'all dating? Personally, I’m going for Formaggio and Pesci hehe

#jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #vento aureo #la squadra #prosciutto #illuso #formaggio #melone #risotto nero #pesci #ghiaccio #gelato and sorbet #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra di esecuzione #jojo headcanons #la squadra x reader #jojo part 5

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Sucker for Pain

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

Warnings: Guns (its in the title lol), grief, a minor mention of blood, fighting, always angst (what I consider angst)

Words: 4.1K

Author note: Totally cried while writing this. Feel free to leave comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter. Always love hearing from you guys.

Chapter 5: Sucker for Pain

Words: 4.1K

Word of Charlotte’s death had spread like wildfire, especially at school. Only Rosie was attending the past fews days. Parker set to join her in two days time, after the funeral, he was scared of what lied ahead. Parker was discharged from the hospital a few days ago, under strict instructions to rest. He started to go a little stir crazy, watching the days pass.

Most of the student’s attended the funeral. Charlotte’s demise was widely publicized which made Parker’s blood boil. No one knew her like Parker did. Who Charlotte actually was the complete opposite of the persona she put on in public and at school. Charlotte was secretly funny and enjoyed really cheesy corny jokes. Her sense of humor was one of things that made Parker fall in love with her.

All the Hollands attended. You, Tom, Rosie, and Parker, and hoped to pay your respects. Parker was exhausted, he had been going through the stages of grief. How could his life get so screwed in a matter of a few weeks. A couple weeks ago, he was a kid planning his promposal for his girlfriend and now he is a protégé of the biggest mob in London who was about to bury his girlfriend.

This was the final stage, the one he was dreading the most, acceptance. He didn’t want to let her go. Charlotte changed his world for the better. She was the first person he ever loved and loved him in return.

The denial didn’t last long. It was unfathomable how she no longer existed. How the world wouldn’t be blessed with her beautiful smile anymore. Or her corny sense of humor and gracious presence. How could someone so perfect just leave the world so suddenly.

Bargaining followed next, coupled with anger. Parker was angry at the world, God, himself, and the bastards that killed her. If they had only driven home when he wanted to, she would still be here. If he hadn’t gotten grounded and not overslept and cleaned up quick enough. If he hadn’t thrown that stupid party. If his dad never gave him an ultimatum. If he never turned 16. Even if he never existed in the first place, Charlotte would still be alive.

There are 5 stages of grief as if you move on from one to the next but no, they stick with people. Especially, depression and anger. How does anyone ever really get over death. Losing someone you love is greatest pain ever felt. Someone you held and protected. Losing Charlotte, in that moment Parker wasn’t good enough. Not enough to protect her or love her.

Bringing us up to date, acceptance. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye but since when did he start getting what he wanted. Parker stood like a statue as he watched Charlotte’s casket lower in to the ground. He knew he had to be strong not just for himself, but for everyone else, especially Charlotte’s parents. At the reception, Parker tried to speak to them but, he didn’t know what to say. How could he lie to them saying it was an accident when in reality he was the reason.

“You have some real nerve showing up here,” Mr. Owens said as Tom walked up to the grieving parents. “I was so sorry to hear about Charlotte, Mrs. Owens,” Tom explained. “You daft prick, you were there. You could’ve protected her,” screamed Mrs. Owens to Parker.

“Mrs. Owens, I just came to offer my condol—“ Parker tried to say.

“Fuck your condolences!” She yelled, throwing her daiquiri straight on Parker. Coating him, from head to toe, in a very potent alcoholic drink.

“I think what my son is trying to explain is that if you need anything, money or a favor, it would be our pleasure. Our family business has some important ties.” Tom exclaimed, hoping to bring them some peace. “You and your son end lives. That’s your family business. I want no part of it. Now if you don’t mind, please get out of my fucking way.” Mrs. Owens said, pushing her way past Tom.

“You people have too many strings. I just want my baby girl back, and you can’t do that,” screamed Mrs. Owens as she left the premises.

“Sir, you want me to take care of her?” asked William, Tom’s capo. “Leave her alone, she’s grieving. Parker come on, let’s go home and get you cleaned up,” Tom explained.

“She’s right. If it weren’t for me Charlotte would still be alive.” Parker said solemnly. Tom hated seeing his son like this, it was eating him up inside. Tom couldn’t do anything to stop it, it was up to Parker to face his inner demons.

The Holland household was starting to return to normalcy, at least what they called normalcy. Parker refused to leave his room for awhile. Staff and you would bring food up to his room each meal and take the untouched one from before. He was a shell of a person after the night. All the while Parker was getting over Charlotte, Rosie was getting under someone new.

Henry had been coming over frequently for two reasons. To comfort Parker in his time of need and to be with Rosie. Their love for each other blossomed rather quickly. Rosie was not one for big romantic gestures, but made an exception from Henry.

The day had come where Parker was to return to school. How could face all of them with the judgements and accusations. Charlotte’s death shook everyone to their very core, everyone was taking the news differently. It wasn’t common for the school community to lose on of their own. Maybe a teacher but never a student.

There were a multitude of mourners that ranged from the fake asses who say they knew her but didn’t, her former conquests who only saw her as a good fuck and her actual friends who were devastated. Posters were hung up and there were candles, teddy bears and “We miss you cards,” displayed all over her locker.

You drove them to school that morning, since Parker was still grounded. Arriving at school, all voices ceased to exist as the black Rolls Royce pulled up. Out jumped Parker and Rosie and all eyes shifted to them as they walked through the halls.

“Glad to see you are back Mr. Holland. You missed a few projects, you can make them up at a later time,” Ms. Erikson, Parker’s chemistry teacher, said. Parker just nodded in response.

Walking to his seat, he perfectly heard all the rumors being spread or was he supposed to. “I heard he was the one who killed her.” “I heard they were both at a gang bang” “I heard she died in his arms”. How could people be so insensitive to make snap judgements like that.

Charlotte’s parents’ opted for the cause of her death to remain hidden. But they were teenagers, they couldn’t help but, gossip. Rumors are just rumors, Parker would tell himself. They weren’t entirely wrong. He was the reason, he was there when it happened, and he held her as she died. Being in those hollowed halls was brutal. Parker was basically the new social pariah.

The student’s weren’t oblivious to the Holland family. They knew what most people knew. That Tom Holland owned one of the largest exporting companies in Europe, Holland Exportation and Luxuries. And they knew not to mess with the Hollands.

Once class was over, now came the hard work. Tom called it “Mobster Bootcamp,” Parker was currently taking lessons with his dad to carry on the legacy. Tom had a few tricks of the trade up his sleeve desperately wanting to pass on to his son. They had met in the Tom’s office to begin.

“Lesson 1: Always wear black or white.” Tom started with as Parker took notes, like the perfect student he is.

With one, blood will alter it completely and the other remains unchanged. It was a common theme, with the Holland legacy, wearing black or white. It was sleek, dangerous and classy all at the same time.

“The one big perk is that blood doesn’t show up on black fabric.”

“Lesson 2: Wives must be treated with respect, girlfriends are fair game."

“If you’re a good man, the only describable difference between a wife and girlfriend is that one has an unnecessary symbol on her ring finger. They both mean the same and don’t you forget it,” Tom concluded.

And Tom was a good man. Never has Tom even thought about cheating on you. Porn was pointless and strip clubs bored him. Why throw away the best thing that ever happened to him, you.

“Lesson 3: Someone brings a knife, you bring a gun” “Never be without a weapon. Anything can become a weapon with the right skill set, but always be prepared.”

Tom was a big fan of improvisation. Sometimes using what he had on hand, like his tie. Strangling wasn’t his most favorite method of killing but he liked to mix it up.

“Also find finesse in your kills. Your mother is a big believer in gun to the head, execution style. Me on the other hand, I prefer to roughen up a guy a bit, but you will eventually develop an M.O. (modus operandi). Another lesson, make sure you don’t always use the same M.O. mix it up a bit, otherwise they could trace it back to you,” Tom elaborated.

“That bring me to my next lesson.”

“Lesson 4: Blackmail is your best friend.”

Tom has had a few close calls in his day. Everything about running a mob had to be sneaky. Bodies couldn’t be found by any random person, they needed to be cleaned up and dealt with. The witness’s in a meeting were sworn into secrecy, he had enough dirt on them that he could get someone to fake their death if need be. Cops were never a problem with the Hollands. They were his puppets and he was the puppet master.

“Killing someone in a public place you risk being caught by an innocent bystander. Then one things leads to another and you are cleaning up two bodies instead of one.That’s why I have the warehouse and the police Captain in my pocket. Just remember everyone’s got a price,” Tom explained.

“Lesson 5: Have as little weaknesses as possible.”

Tom hated referring to the one’s he loved as weakness but it was the truth. He couldn’t be weak if he desired to be top dog. The moment you and Tom started a family, his liabilities increased. From that day, his only goal was to protect you and the twins.

“I would never call your mother a weakness, but I would die for her. Also for you and your sister. This makes me vulnerable. In the past, people have put her in danger situations for leverage against me.” Tom said, rubbing his temples. Parker just nodded in return. A long silence ensued.

“Dad, are you okay?” Parker questioned.

“Yeah. I’m sorry son, I have more for you but, just have a lot on my mind,” Tom apologized. “It’s alright. Any luck with finding Charlotte’s killer?” Parker asked, his voice tainted with hope.

“No, but I do have a meeting at the warehouse with a contact would you like to tag along?”

“How could I say no,” Parker said, kind of excitedly. They made their way out of the mansion and drove to the warehouse. Parker had never been here before. It was dark and cold looking. The walls were pure metal sheets and the floor had stains of blood scattered everywhere. “Good to see you, Jazz,” Tom said walking up to the mysterious woman tied to a chair. Jasmine Ramsey, a contract killer Tom was friends with. A little more than friends at one time, predating you.

“Fuck you, Tom. What’d I do to be graced with your presence,” questioned Jazz. “Nothing to piss me off, yet,” Tom chuckled. “Then why the fuck am I here,” she said a little peeved.

“My son, here, needs to ask you a few questions,” Tom said, pointing towards Parker who stood in the corner. “Aww a baby Holland. Following in your daddy’s footsteps, huh?” “Shut it, slag,” Parker yelled as he melded his fist with her jaw.

“Jesus. What the fuck was that for?” Jazz screeched. “Woah. Sorry Jazz, should’ve told him you were an old friend,” Tom says, holding his hands up in defense. “Oh, I’m so sorry miss. Could I get you some ice or something?” Parker exclaimed, surprised that he just punched an assassin.

“Its fine didn’t hurt that bad. Gotta work on your punch,” she said adjusting her jaw. “Really. Hurt like a bitch to me” Parker whispered, holding his aching hand. Blood began to seep out of the broken skin, staining his knuckles red. “Tommy you gotta tell your son to grow tougher skin” Jazz exclaimed. “What the fuck were you thinking Parker?” Tom said, grabbing Parker by the collar of his polo. “Sorry I just assumed with her being tied up and all” Parker exclaimed. “That’s how we do business boy. You’ll soon learn”Jazz explained with a shit-eating grin across her face.

“Anyway, I need info on a murder at The Luxe on the 11th. A young girl was involved.” Tom turned to Jazz.

“Oh I heard about that, poor girl, she was pretty too. What’s it to you, Holland?”

“That’s not important,” Tom hissed. “She was my girlfriend,” Parker interrupted.

“Sorry lover boy my hands are tied, literally,” Jazz said, rolling her eyes. “If I untie you will you talk?” Tom replied.

“Yes, you know me. I don’t appreciate being threatened.” “Alright Jazz, just spit it out.” Tom said as Parker untied her restraints. “I was downtown at pub, called Harmon’s. Heard of it?” Jazz expressed. “Yeah, a big hotspot for Shaw’s men,” Tom said, nodding his head as he followed along. “Well, I was searching for my target and overheard some men saying “It’s going down tonight, word from the Merchant is that he should be there, with his little whore.”” “Fuck. The Merchant. Where have I heard that?” Tom said, puzzled. “Short for Merchant of Death. Surely, you’ve heard the old mob tales.” Jazz elaborated.

“Of course.”

“Well if it is him, I’d stop looking you don’t want to find him,” she warned. “Please, everyone knows I’m fucking top dog,” Tom asserted. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Tommy. You are now, but he used to be and if he is returning, watch your back. All he craves is power. If that’s it I’ll be on my way.” Jazz explained, asking for permission to leave. “Yes of course, Jazz. Thanks.” Tom muttered. “Give my love to your wife,” she said, pressing a cheek to his kiss as she strutted out. “Seriously dad?” Parker asked with a side glare. “Parker stop it. I love your mother and I would never cheat on her. Jazz and I are just friends.” Tom explained creating a “I’m watching you” look on Parker’s face.

“Jesus, one punch ripped open your knuckles. You're the one telling mom. Now come on or we’ll be late for dinner,” Tom said, inspecting Parker’s hand. Being the new mob boss was in Parker’s blood, but you were always against it. You loved the mob and being part of it but you wanted your kids to have a choice, unlike you and Tom.

Meanwhile at the manor, you and Rosie were making dinner. You appreciated all the staff to clean and cook but, enjoyed the satisfaction when doing it yourself. Secretly loving your independence. While you were dating Tom, you would try to ditch your security much to Tom’s dismay. You were a junkie for thrills.

Rosie and your relationship is what ever mother desired. You treated Rosie like a daughter first and a best friend second. As long as Rosie’s life was never put in danger you would keep her secrets. The major one being Henry.

“Hey honey. Since it’s just us here, how are things going with Henry?” You asked curiously. “Wait, where’s dad and Parker?” Rosie questioned cause nobody else knew. “Taking care of some business. Now spill, I want all the details.” “Well things are going really great. We kissed.” “Really? When? Where?” You have always wanted to have this conversation with her daughter. “At the hospital when Parker was hurt. I had a panic attack and Henry comforted me. He is really great, mom. I don’t know I’ve just never felt this way before,” she explained. Rosie had boyfriends in the past, never long enough for anything serious to perspire.

“Roo if you’re ready to take that step, I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m okay, right now, considering”

“Considering what? Did something happen? Has Henry been pressuring you?” You grew concerned of your daughter. “No. God no, nothing like that. On the night of the party, I got drunk and remember that boy Connor?”

“Yes, go on.” “Well he… he tried to rape me.” Rosie murmured, trying not to cry. “What? Roo why didn’t you tell me,” you whispered, your heart breaking on behalf of Rosie. “Henry was there to stop it and I just want to forget about.” “Roo, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I’m always here for you ok? I love you so much baby.” “Love you too, mom” Rosie replied. Their conversation soon quickly ended as Tom and Parker came barging through the front door and Rosie excused her self to the restroom.

“Ooo, something smells good. What is my beautiful wife cooking?” Tom asked, coming up behind you and kissing your neck.

“The only thing she knows how to cook, spaghetti and meatballs,” you replied, jokingly.

“How was your guy’s day?” You asked. “Great, Parker really showed them,” Tom said, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a warm embrace.

“Jesus Parker, does it hurt?” you questioned as he showed her his battle scars.

“What the fuck happened to your hand?” Rosie said, walking back into the kitchen. “Oh nothing,” Parker said, trying to change the subject. Rosie just gave him a puzzling glare as she dropped the subject.

“Dinner’s ready,” you announced as they all made their way to the dining room. There they sat at the long table, Tom at the head of course and you to the right of him. You all talked about your day, of course, avoiding any mob talk.

“So what really happened to your hand” Rosie asserted breaking the silence. “Drop it. Will you?” Parker barked annoyed at her persistence. “Fine,” she said staring at her plate until her phone buzzed. That noise put a smile across her face because it was always the same person, Henry. “Roo, you know the rules. No phones at dinner,” you remarked. “I know mom, just give me one second,” replied Rosie, holding up a finger. “Rosie, your mother asked you to put it down. Who’s got you so giddy anyway.” Tom said, defending you.

“Oh nothing” Rosie muttered, putting her phone down. “Ten bucks it’s a boy” Tom said directed towards you. “Deal” you responded, shaking his hand. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss, theirs loving way of shaking hands.

“I’m done. Dinner was great, thanks mom. May I be excused?” Parker asked and Tom nodded in response. Rosie cornered him on his way upstairs. It had been a while since they had talked. Sibling to sibling. Twin to twin. They tried not to keep secrets from each other. He hadn’t of told her about the mob and she hadn’t told him of her and Henry.

“Now tell me what the fuck you did to your hand,” Rosie barked, cornering him.

“Why the fuck do you want to know so bad?” Parker responded. “Umm, I’m your sister.”

“Rosie I don’t have time for your bullshit,” Parker yelled. “What the fuck happened? There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Rosie accused.

“Dad wants me to be the next him.” Parker explained. “I’m not following. What like run the company?” Rosie asked, confused by his statement.

“No. Dad is a mobster. He runs a mob and he wants me to succeed him.” “What the fuck? When did this happen? Why the fuck haven’t you told me?” Rosie exclaimed.

“Our birthday. This is what I was trying to tell you at the party!” Parker yelling causing Rosie to yell back. “Sorry, I was a little preoccupied and so were you!” Rosie hinting at Charlotte. “Don’t turn this on me. What the fuck are you doing with Henry, by the way? You think I don’t see the two of you sneaking around.” Parker quipped, in reality he had never seen their antics. “Nothing, it’s none of your business,” Rosie said, shying away from him. “Of course, it’s my business he’s my best friend.” “Well he is mine too and the world doesn’t revolve around you. If you weren’t so busy breaking curfew and sneaking out, you would see that Henry is really good to me, ever since that night.” Rosie explained stopping herself before she said something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge herself.

“Rosie, what happened?” Parker asked noticing her quick change in demeanor.

“You won’t care,” Rosie quipped.

“Try me,” Parker said softly.

“That night… someone slipped something in my drink and tried to take advantage of me, but Henry stopped it.” Rosie explained, trying to avoid the brute of Parker’s rage.

“Who? Tell me who right fucking now!”

“Connor.”

“I’m gonna kill him” “No, Henry already took care of it. You already have enough blood on your hands,” Rosie chuckled, surprised Parker cared that much. “Thanks,” he said with sarcasm.

“Roo, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.” “It’s ok. I’m just trying to put it behind me”

“So what you are a mobster now?” “One in training. I need you to know I’m doing this for one reason only, to avenge Charlotte, okay. Not looking to kill for sport like mom and dad.”

Rosie’s suspicions grew over the years that her parents did enjoy living above the law. It didn’t bother her, she actually hoped the mantle would be passed on to her. She had a more fiery spirit than Parker, he was just a big softie on the inside much like his father. Appearances can be deceiving.

Tom was currently in his office, finishing up work for the night. Buzz, buzz, buzz. The last person he thought would call him, his dad.

“So are you going to say thanks?” asked Dom.

“For what? I don’t time for your antics, dad. A hit was hired on Parker and I have to figure out who did it.” Tom sighed. He was frustrated he was getting no where, who was the Merchant of Death. “Umm, hello. Like I said you’re welcome,” Dom quipped.

“You fucking mean that was you.”

“Duh, told you he needed a push in the right direction. I wasn’t the one to pull the trigger but I knew where he was.” “I have a crushed kid over here wanting revenge on the bastards who killed his girlfriend.” “Problem solved, glad he is joining the family business.” Dom said and hung up. How the fuck was Tom going to explain to Parker that his grandpa arranged the hit?

“FUCK!!” Tom screamed smashing everything in sight.

Meanwhile, Parker made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water when he saw you sitting on the couch, consumed in your book.

“Hey mom?” Parker asked, needing to get something off his chest. “Yeah, honey,” you responded, drawing your eyes away from your book. “I need to tell you something.”

“I’m listening… wait what the fuck was that. Hold that thought.” You hesitated when you heard a large crash come from Tom’s office.

“Let me go check on your father,” you said, getting up from the couch. Parker couldn’t help but be curious. He followed her before she closed the door and listened in, pressing his ear against the door.

“Tommy, what happened?” You queried. “It was him,” Tom spoke with an unchanging expression. “Who, Carson?” “No, Dom. He arranged the hit,” Tom said.

Parker’s heart sunk to his stomach. His girlfriend was dead because of his family. He really did kill her.

Maybe he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger but she was seen with him. As far as he is concerned it painted a huge red target on her back. What kind of life was he born into? He never wanted any of this and now all he is, is this.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom holland #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom x reader #mob!tom holland x reader #dad!mob!tom

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tuanyiems · 3 years

Text

Champagne Truffles

Yugyeom x Reader (f) It’s a little angsty at the start oops but still this is a fluffy one, it’s me after all words: 4k plot: it’s your anniversary date night and he’s determined to make this a night you’ll never forget, established relationship!au a/n – Forgive this unedited piece, it’s 3am rn lulz I spent too much time gushing over got7 I had to take out the smut content to make the deadline lol but anyways, make sure to stream Last Piece as you’re reading!!! And this concludes my November of posting exclusively for Yugyeom! (It still counts as November if I haven’t slept yet!) And what a beautiful month it was! Thank you for following me on this Chocolatier journey, I’m sure these two will show up again in a drabble or two in the future. But until, please enjoy and give got7’s new album a listen if you haven’t already. It truly is another masterpiece album c’: // part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

“So, how was work today?” you start, climbing into bed where Yugyeom is already tucked in and scrolling on his phone. The bright light illuminates his face, and you pause, admiring his profile as you wait for him to answer.

But Yugyeom only shrugs, not even bothering to look at you. You grab your own phone from your nightstand, twisting it awkwardly around in your hands as you think of something else to say.

“It’s getting colder these days, isn’t it?” you ask softly, staring down at your phone as you flip it once more and watch it light up to a picture of you and Yugyeom at a carnival. It was one of those summertime, pop-up fairs. Yugyeom had convinced you to call in sick and the two of you made a trip an hour out from the city to play like two teenagers in love.

Your lips twist as you press your thumb into the screen where Yugyeom is holding your hand in his. Even when your hands were getting clammy from the summer heat and the nerves of waiting in line for the pirate ship, he had refused to let go.

“Nice try,” he had scoffed, before lifting his hand to kiss the back of yours. “If I let you go for even a second, you’ll definitely find a way to hurt yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re so protective for the weirdest things.”

“Weird? Who was the one who fractured their wrist while bowling?”

You looked away, pretending not to hear.

“And who’s the girl who got a concussion while walking in a department store, hmm?”

“Hey! That time wasn’t my fault!” you pouted, allowing yourself to be tugged along as the line moved up. “Who puts such heavy items on the top shelf anyways?”

“But what normal person climbs the shelves?!”

“An! Independent! Woman!” You defended, slapping his chest with your free hand with each word.

He only laughed, eyes shining down on you. “You could’ve called for help, or oh I don’t know, asked your boyfriend to get it for you? I mean, what else is my height good for?”

“Eye candy, of course!”

“I’m just a piece of meat to you, aren’t I?” he joked, bumping you by the hip before quickly pulling you back into his chest.

You giggled, “Oh course not, babe. I’m obviously using you for our future offspring too. It’s my gracious consideration for future generations.”

“Future offspring?” Yugyeom’s cheeks blushed a rosy hue and as soon as you noticed, you followed suit.

“I mean! Uh-well…if…” you sucked in a breath, forcing your heart to calm. “Anyways, if they end up inheriting your height and my butterfingers, it’ll end up being a disservice to society actually.”

He chuckled, hand squeezing yours. “Probably,” he mused softly, cheeks still warm with daydreams.

When you turn your phone again, the screen flickers awake and there is his blushing face again, eyes twinkling with thoughts of the future…or, that’s what you always thought he was imagining when you look at this photo, but maybe you were just being delusional. It could’ve just been the summer heat making him flush.

The Yugyeom from that memory and the one sitting next to you feel like completely different people. You don’t understand what happened, only a few months had passed since that day. At first, you had summed up his quiet behavior to the changing season. It’s not like Yugyeom had never been quiet or moody before, but never has he iced you out like this for so long.

It makes you nervous actually. In two days, it’ll be your three-year anniversary. This is supposed to be a good thing of course, but in the back of your mind sits the nervous belief that something bad will happen on that day.

None of your previous relationships have ever lasted longer than a year. You and Yugyeom were always so stable that you never thought this would be a problem, but his sudden changes have made you more superstitious.

“Baby?” you utter softly, touching his wrist to put his phone down. He looks over but doesn’t say a word. “Um, I was wondering how you wanted to spend this Saturday? We haven’t really talked about it, so…”

Your voice trails. He looks at you almost fiercely, a slight frown on his lips.

You swallow. “Not that we have to do anything. Maybe we could just have a quiet day inside. We can marathon that anime you really like! What was the name again? With the cute pig?”

“Seven Deadly Sins,” he answers, looking back at his phone.

“Yeah, that one!” you say, voice much brighter than how you feel. “But…I was just suggesting. We can do what you want to do. Did you have something in mind? Food you’re craving?”

Yugyeom sighs, turning on his side to turn the lamp off. “It’s late, babe, let’s decide later.”

“Oh, okay.”

In the darkness, your worries fester though.

“Baby?” you whisper cautiously. Quietly, you curl against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Goodnight, Gyeom.”

A moment passes before he twists in your arms and pulls you to his chest. You smile, looking up even though you can barely make out his features in the darkness.

“Night baby, I love you,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, and you find yourself relaxing in his arms.

That night you fall into a sleep so good, you end up missing your alarm.

Rushing around the apartment in only a forest green blouse and your nude hip huggers, you unpack your purse for the fifth time that morning.

“Babe, have you seen my charger?” You yell from the bedroom.

“It’s not in your purse?” Yugyeom calls from inside the bathroom.

You huff, throwing the items haphazardly back into your bag. “No!”

“Just take mines!”

“Thank you!”

Rounding the bed, you make your way to Yugyeom’s nightstand. Unlike your own though, his drawer is a disorganized mess. You furrow your brows, shifting through the old mail and random trinkets.

“How does he find anything in here?” you mutter, stuffing your hand to the back and hoping the wire was buried somewhere there.

“Y/N!” Yugyeoms voice booms from behind you. You jump in surprise. “Why are you going through my drawer?”

He snatches your hand out and slams his drawer shut.

“I-” You try to blink back your surprise. “I was just looking for the charger.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, bending behind the nightstand, and pulls the wire out.

“Here,” he tosses it into your hand before walking to your shared closet. “And don’t go through my things.”

Gaze on his back, you place the charger into your purse meekly. Grabbing your cream trousers from the bed, you quietly step into them as Yugyeom gets dressed too.

“Sorry,” you mumble when he finally turns to you.

He lets out a sigh, threading his fingers between yours. His thumb rubs over your hand gently. “I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“Jackson,” you slide on your rolling chair towards your cubicle buddy, cup of hot chocolate between both palms.

“Uh oh,” Jackson looks at you once before twisting dramatically in his chair. “You’ve got the frowny face!”

“Frowny face?” Jinyoung pokes his head into your cubicle. Seeing your expression, he immediately walks into your cubicle, leaning onto Jackson’s desk. “Who do we need to hurt?”

“No one,” you sulk, stirring your drink. “I just had a question.”

“It was Susan, wasn’t it? I hate her,” Jinyoung scoffs, crossing his arms. Jackson chuckles, nudging him to stop.

“No, I was just wondering,” you pause, looking at your cream flats. “What are some signs when a guy no longer loves you?”

“I’m going to kill Yugyeom.”

“Why is murder always your go-to?” Jackson jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “It can’t be that bad, the last time I saw Yugyeom he was madly in love with you!”

“I just…I don’t know…it’s a feeling,” you frown, gut twisting as you’re speaking the words aloud. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Well, what signs have you been getting from Yugyeom?” Jinyoung asks.

“He’s just gotten quieter in the last couple of months. Sometimes it feels like he’s hiding something from me. Like last night, he was mostly on his phone even though I was trying to talk to him.”

“On his phone doing what?”

You tilt your head, shrugging. “I don’t know, Instagram? Twitter? But that’s not the point.”

“Wait, Instagram or Twitter, Y/N? Was he scrolling through news or was he sliding into DMs? These are important details,” Jinyoung interrupts. Both you and Jackson look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your heart jump to your throat. “Y-you think…maybe, he’s c-cheating on me?”

That thought had never even occurred to you as a possibility but now that you hear it…Your vision starts to blur.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N!” Jackson slaps Jinyoung’s thigh, pushing him away as he hurries to put an arm over your shoulder. “Jinyoung was just asking stupid questions. Yugyeom’s not that kind of guy.”

“But what if he’s right?” you mumble. “This morning I was looking in his drawer to borrow his charger and he yelled at me for going through his things. He’s never done that before! And every time I ask about his day, he won’t really tell me anything.”

You sniffle, rushing to wipe your falling tears.

“Don’t cry, Y/N,” Jinyoung pats your hand softly. “You’re probably just spiraling right now. I don’t know Yugyeom the way you do. He was probably just scrolling through pictures of tattoo art or something.”

“But he’s so handsome and amazing, he could have any girl he wants. What if he’s found someone better? Someone who doesn’t burn toast or, or-”

“Hey,” Jackson squeezes your arm with a frown. “We don’t tolerate that kind of talk in this house.”

“House?” Jinyoung chuckles.

“Our cubicle home!” Jackson clarifies, making you smile.

“Ah, I see a smile,” Jinyoung announces, making your lips stretch wider.

“My makeup is running, isn’t it?” you laugh weakly.

“Yeah, you’re a mess,” Jinyoung teases.

“Good time to ask Susan for an early weekend,” Jackson nudges you playfully.

“Yeah, leave early and go have a real conversation with Yugyeom about how you’re feeling. No use in holding things in if it’s just going to make you cry anyways.”

“Someone’s crying?” Susan, your project manager, pokes her head into your cubicle. When she sees your state, she gasps. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m okay,” you flush with embarrassment.

“Nonsense, you should let her start the weekend early, Susan,” Jinyoung states before smiling at her sweetly. “And as her favorite co-workers, you should let us join her!”

“Nice try, Jinyoung,” she laughs goodheartedly, before turning to you. “You two have to stay, but Y/N, you’re free to go. Come back Monday, feeling better, okay?”

She sends you a wink before striding off.

“I hate her so much,” Jinyoung grumbles.

“You gotta stop lying to yourself, man,” Jackson laughs. He turns to you and pulls you into a hug. “Go and talk to him, Y/N. The longer you wait it out, the longer you’ll just be running circles in your head.”

You nod, convinced. “Alright, I’ll do that. Thanks guys.”

“Call me if you need a hitman!” Jinyoung calls as you rush out of the cubicle.

“Hey, why are you calling at this hour?”

“I just missed you,” you hum into the phone, as you walk down the familiar sidewalk towards your favorite chocolate store. “How’s work?”

“Um, actually,” there’s a pause on the other line before he continues, “It’s kind of busy. Probably be home late today.”

“Oh, okay,” you put on a tone of disappointment as you round the corner to the store. You snicker to yourself. Maybe surprising him at work and helping him with the shop will pick his mood up.

“Yeah, sorry, but you know this time of year. People like to eat chocolates.”

You smile to yourself, slowing your step as you reach the storefront. “Yeah, I know. It’s how I met you.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you chuckle.

“Anyways, I really have to go now.”

“O-” You freeze, staring into the window of the chocolate store. “Okay.”

“Bye,” Yugyeom doesn’t wait for you to reply before he cuts off the line. You barely register the dead phone line though. You gulp, watching as your best friend, Jenny, pulls Yugyeom into a tight hug between the counter. In her arms, he smiles with full cheeks.

Stepping back, you cross the street in a rush, collapsing into a seat outside the French café across from Yugyeom’s store before your legs give out entirely.

This doesn’t make sense. While Jenny was one of your closest friends, she and Yugyeom weren’t especially close. This was partially due to the fact that Jenny lives in another city two hours away from yours. Yugyeom has never expressed any interest in spending time with your friends unless you were with him, and so things just don’t add up.

Jenny never sent you a text that she’d be in town, especially on a Friday. Just as you’re about to go through the text messages in your phone just in case, you see the door of the chocolate store open and out walks Yugyeom and Jenny. They’re so deep in their own conversation, they don’t even glance at you, right across the street from them.

You take in a breath, shaking your head. This just doesn’t make sense. Getting up again, you make your way down the street, watching them from across. Maybe Jenny needed a special order of chocolates. Was there a birthday you were forgetting?

You stop in your tracks, watching as Jenny practically jumping with excitement alongside Yugyeom. She must’ve said something funny, because he tilts his head back, mouth open wide, the same way he always laughs at you when you make a stupid joke.

Shaking your head again, you continue your steps. No, Jenny is a trusted friend. You’ve known her since high school. But the longer you follow, the more your stomach starts to hurt. It’s exactly because you’ve known Jenny for so long that you know she would never be this animated with your boyfriend.

Your chest hurt at just the thought, but you can’t help it from echoing in your brain. That the two of them look too comfortable—like they’ve been meeting for a while.

Biting your lip hard, you stop in your tracks again and force yourself to turn around. No, this just didn’t add up. And you didn’t want to trail after them like some kind of stalker.

You trust Yugyeom and you trust Jenny.

Hailing the nearest cab, you enter with a huff. It was like Jinyoung said, you were probably just spiraling.

“I’m home,” Yugyeom calls softly as he enters the house. You freeze in your seat at the kitchen table, despite having sat there for three hours for this very moment.

“Hey,” Yugyeom peeks his head into the kitchen, looking at you with furrowed eyes. “What are you doing just sitting here by yourself?”

You chuckle dryly, trying to shake off your nerves. “Oh, I guess I was just spacing out.”

He smiles at you before sitting down in the chair across from you. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s okay,” you lie. “How was work?”

“It was fine. Busy as usual,” Yugyeom shrugs. “What did you have for dinner?”

“I made pasta. There’s leftovers in the fridge for you.”

“It’s okay, I’m stuffed already.”

“Oh? You ate?”

Yugyeom’s eyes grow wide before he is blinking away, running his fingers through his hair. “Uh, yeah, um…Bambam, he bought me dinner.”

“That was nice of him,” you mumble. You breathe loudly, trying to keep yourself collected despite feeling like you were going to vomit with each second that passes.

He chuckles before raising his voice abruptly. “Anyways! Let’s talk about tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow? Did you have something in mind?” your chest jolts with hope.

“Actually, I was thinking you could have a girl’s day with Jenny! And then we could do something in the evening.”

“Jenny’s in town?” you watch him closely, noticing the way he licks at his lips and swallows.

“Oh! Yeah! I uh, I heard it from Bam. He must’ve seen a story update from her or something.”

You dig your nail into the cuticle bed of your thumbs as you listen to him lie straight to your face.

“Jenny didn’t text me though. She probably has something else going on this weekend.”

“Nope!” Yugyeom whips, smiling far too big for this conversation. “I messaged her about tomorrow already.”

“So, you want me to hang out with Jenny…on our anniversary?” You question slowly.

Yugyeom looks away, his ears flushed. He brushes at your hand. “Yeah, you two should catch up, get your nails done or something. You should really stop doing this to your nails.”

You look to your hands, your nail beds raw.

“I’m tired,” you mutter, getting up from your seat first. “I’m gonna go to bed first.”

“Oh, okay…well, just remember, you and Jenny at noon!”

You don’t answer.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Jenny turns to you with concern as the nail technician keeps her right hand hostage. “Is something bothering you?”

“Why are you in town again?” you ask, eyes concentrated on the deep red shade that your nail tech paints onto your fingernails.

“Oh!” In your peripheral, you can see her noticeably jolt. “I came for a conference on Friday and when Yugyeom reached out to me I decided to stay for the weekend.”

“A conference, huh?”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, turning back to her technician. “You know how much the beauty industry loves their conventions.”

“Must’ve been draining.”

“Yeah, totally. That’s why I didn’t text you I was in town. I was completely exhausted by the end of it that I completely forgot.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Mhm,” she turns back to you. “You should add a gold accent. Gold accent, please!”

Your nail tech nods, bringing out another tray of gold embellishment from underneath her desk. You turn your head, hearing the click of Jenny’s nails on the screen of her phone. There’s a bright smile on her face and it makes you want to burst into tears on the spot.

At first you thought maybe the two of them planned for Jenny to reveal the truth to you. You didn’t think Yugyeom was a coward but lately, none of the things you thought before make sense anymore. However, after hours spent with Jenny, all you’ve managed was getting prettier nails and lots of lies from who you thought was your best friend.

“Gorgeous,” Jenny coos, leaning in to admire your fingers.

“Yeah,” you murmur half-heartedly, feeling your spirit fully deplete.

No confession comes. No explanation. When evening comes, Jenny sends you right back home. Your walk up to the apartment is slow. This is it, isn’t it? Gyeom needed time to prepare himself to break up with you. It’s why he didn’t want to be with you for your anniversary.

Your stomach sinks when you get to your door. Was this your last time ever entering? Where were you going to move to?

As the familiar tone of the keypad rings in your ear, hot tears prick at your eyes. Stepping into the house, your vision blurs as you step through the hallway and into the kitchen. Yugyeom is standing at the stove when he turns to you with a smile.

“You’re back!” he greets you. When you hear his laughter, tears spill down your cheeks. “Crying already, babe? You haven’t even tasted it.”

Hiccupping, you try to calm yourself but the more you try to contain the tears, the more your chest fills with fear and floods you. You cry even harder, a terrible wail leaving your throat.

The sound of tin crashes onto the floor and quickly, you are enveloped in Yugyeom’s warmth. The feeling only makes you more sick and you bury your face into his chest, crying harder. Your last embrace. Your last time being comforted by him. The thoughts send sharp pains straight to your chest.

Yugyeom holds you tight against him, taking the impact of your shaking body to his chest. “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?”

It’s a long time before you feel calm enough to stand on your own. When you finally do, stepping back from his arms, you feel yourself tearing up again from seeing the concern on his face.

“What happened?” he whispers, fingers reaching out for yours.

You pull away though, taking another step back.

“Yugyeom,” your voice comes out shaky but determined. “Are we breaking up?”

Tears spill again.

Yugyeom looks at you with a shocked expression. “What? Where is this coming from?”

“You don’t love me anymore,” you cry.

“Of course I do! What are you talking about?”

“Then why did you lie to me?” You look at him sharply, gaze severe despite the shine of tears. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence breaks your heart.

Lips quivering, you sit down at the kitchen table. “You lied to me. Jenny lied to me…H-how long? How long have you been doing this?”

“Baby,” Yugyeom whispers, bending to the floor. He rests his hands on your thighs, looking up at you and there are tears in his eyes two. “Baby…baby, you’ve got this all wrong.”

“Even if it’s not Jenny, it’s still not me, is it?” you whimper, tears spilling down your chin. They splatter on the back of his hands. “You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t want to share anything with me. Not even stories about your day.”

Tears run down Yugyeom’s cheeks as he presses a kiss to your knee.

“No, no, baby, you’re wrong.”

You sniff, cupping your palm to his wet cheek. “I want to be wrong. Please prove me wrong, Gyeom.”

“I was trying to keep it a secret,” he scoffs to himself, shaking his head. “I was planning this for months.”

“Planning?”

“I was so afraid I’d accidentally let it slip, or that you’d find it.”

You frown, brows furrowing in confusion now. “Find what, Gyeom?”

Yugyeom takes in a deep breath, breaking into a gentle smile as he glances down at the kitchen floor. Following his gaze, you realize he had dropped a tray of chocolates earlier.

“Chocolates?”

“Champagne Truffles,” he tells you, reaching down to grab one.

“You…you made a new recipe?”

Yugyeom lets out a loud sigh. “Good thing I marked it.”

You look at him, bewildered. He chuckles softly, turning to you again.

“I’m not going to break up with you, baby,” he laughs, digging his thumb into the spine of the chocolate until it bursts with a pop. “I’m trying to spend my whole life with you.”

Your hands to fly to your mouth in surprise as a fresh wave of tears spring to your eyes. He drops the chocolate shell to the floor, holding onto the shining gold band with shaking hands.

“Every day since meeting you,” his voice breaks and you cry, hands coming to cup his face as tears run down his cheeks too. “I thought I had a good life, and then I met you…And then I realized, I was missing everything before you came into my life.”

“Gyeom,”

He sniffs, breaking into a smile as more tears fall from his eyes. “Baby, you’re my everything. You’re the first person I want to tell anything to. You don’t know how hard it’s been trying to keep this from you.”

You laugh with him, “And Jenny.”

He nods. “She was helping me pick out the ring, plan the event, pick the flowers.”

You grin, pressing your forehead to his. “You bought me flowers!”

He laughs, nose brushing softly against yours. “Yeah, and a ring too…if you want it.”

“I do, I do, I do,” you giggle against him as your tears wet his cheek.

He chuckles, breath ghosting your lips.

“Not yet, baby, that one’s for the wedding,” he chuckles and you laugh with him.

“Either way, it’s I do.”

#got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #kim yugyeom #got7 series #fluff #angst #writing #fanfiction #le chocolatier series

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lyrebirdswrites · 3 years

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How did you distinguish between comp het and genuine attraction, if that's something you ever experienced before/while IDing as lesbian? - sincerely, a questioning sapphic! 💛

Hi anon! I have experienced comp het before, and I’m happy to talk about how it felt for me vs the actual crushes I’ve had ^^ I’ll whack it under a read more because my answer involves a lot of rambling about my personal experience.

A quick note that comp het can be different for everyone and I am certainly not the word of god on the subject. Also, I’m asexual, so sexual attraction did not factor into comp het for me, and I previously thought I was bi so I was already comfortable with the idea of me being attracted to girls. That might not line up with your situation, but hopefully my experiences can give you some insight regardless.

Anyway. There was this guy I really liked back when I was in high school.

When I was ‘crushing’ on him, it was pretty cerebral. I was always asking myself questions, trying to figure out how much I liked him and whether I could really see us together. I remember thinking to myself, “well, he’s not exactly conventionally attractive - but that’s okay, that doesn’t bother me, I would never be so shallow as to not date someone just because they’re not the most drop dead gorgeous person in town” (the issue had nothing to do with how attractive he actually was; rather, the problem was that I wasn’t attracted to him and I didn’t know it). I’d ask myself, “do I feel butterflies when I think about him?” And lo and behold, the butterflies would spontaneously appear! So I’d have to assume, “well, there they are, there’s your answer.” When I wondered, “can I see myself with him” the answer was a firm yes - but it was the kind of yes that was firm in order to push down tiny doubts, so nebulous and vague it was difficult to even know they were there at all. Not the kind of yes that was organically certain.

Typing it out like that makes it seem pretty obvious that whatever I thought I was feeling, I probably wasn’t feeling it after all. But what made it confusing was that I honestly, genuinely, really liked this guy. He was one of my best friends and one of my favourite people on the planet. He had a good heart, he was confident, he was intelligent and articulate, we could talk about anything. I cared about him very deeply, and that wasn’t fake. So when I started hearing from my friends that he might like me that way, and when I started noticing things in his behaviour that indicated he might want to be more than friends, it made me wonder - this care I have for him, is that love? Maybe it is. I like him a lot. I like spending time around him. I like that he likes me. If I like him so much, then I want to go out with him, right? It’s called compulsory heterosexuality, but at no point did I feel consciously compelled or pressured - when he asked me out, it was my choice to say yes, and in all that thinking I’d done I came to the conclusion that this was something I wanted. I felt all the warm fuzzies I was supposed to feel right afterward; I rang my best friend the moment I got home and we had a big long squeal about it together.

Except very quickly I figured out that this was not something I wanted at all, because once the initial warm fuzzies wore off and I was actually dating him, the gulf between what was expected of me and what I felt turned out to be massive. The main thing I remember from that relationship is that it felt stifling. Not because he was doing anything wrong or coming on too strong, but because I had fundamentally misinterpreted my own feelings. A hug from him or a hand on my shoulder became something I had to grit my teeth and endure instead of something I enjoyed, practically overnight. Physically, I did not want him near me, because the new meaning behind his gestures made me feel like my personal space was constantly being invaded, like I had to get away. Needless to say, that relationship did not last very long. He was very gracious and understanding, but I felt really guilty about the whole thing. 0/10 would not recommend sorting out comp het by actually dating a guy.

I have had crushes on girls since then, and to me it feels very different. I think the biggest difference is that when I’m experiencing comp het, I wonder if I’m feeling something and then the feelings may or may not manifest; when I’m experiencing a genuine crush, the feelings come first, and then I identify them, however long it takes to do so. That’s not to say that I don’t question whether I have a crush - but I’m not responding to the thought that a relationship might be on the table, I’m figuring out an emotion that already exists, if that makes sense. The angst involved is less do i really like him tho and more does she like me back. I’m not up late at night imagining what it would be like to be in a relationship and trying to figure out if I’d be comfortable with that in the first place; I’m either thinking oh wouldn’t it be nice, or I’m going to bed early because it means tomorrow will come quicker and I can see her again lol. My thoughts about the crush are less self-focused, because I’m too busy focusing on how lovely she is. I ask myself less, and try to prove it to myself less, because it just is.

I do remember that after the whole situation with the boy from high school, I stumbled upon this big long google doc about comp het. If you haven’t read it, I’d recommend doing so - it was helpful for me at the time.

Hopefully this was helpful, anon! I wish you all the best while you’re figuring things out, and whatever answer you settle on, I hope it’s an answer that feels comfortable to you <3

#comp het #sapphic #lesbian #lyrebirds answers #anonymous

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hueningshaped · 3 years

Text

☆ crown | xu minghao and jeon wonwoo

▰ genre: college au! / NO READER INSERT = ORIGINAL CHARACTER / drama, coming of age, romantic, angst ... so original characters and seventeen *gasp* you guessed it — a svt fanfic

▰ word count: about 2.7k

▰ a/n: interest check of a full fledged story i’ve planned but am refraining to put effort in due to possible, complete lack of reads or audience (nobody’s fault but mine). i’d love to hear your feedback! this is chapter one; please let me know if i should continue or just leave it at this LOL

▰ synopsis: jo woolim can’t juggle to save her life, and yet she is somehow managing to stay with her boyfriend: jeon wonwoo, who is possibly cheating on her (again), her strained friendships, fitting into her new school, estranged family, learning to wholly love and forgive herself - in a time unprecedented and searching for the boy of her dreams, xu minghao, the prodigal foreign exchange student. she’s looking for real love, where it’s lacking, where it’s needed, and where it’s always been. by the way, it is not easy!

▰ additional: i listened to epilogue by justin hurtwitz as well as mia and sebastian’s theme (which is somewhat a reprise of it despite it being previous to epilogue, of course) as i wrote it so here u go!

Jo Woolim's feet hurt for multiple reasons, but getting stood up, time and time again, to now, at the age of twenty three is the main contribution to the pain.

The stairs are a pretty humiliating choice of seating, especially to conduct her double digit calls to the person who stood her up, which is her harmless best friend, Sookyung. So, no hard feelings, right? (Right?)

She shouldn't even be that embarrassed because it's not Wonwoo — the Jeon Wonwoo, her very own boyfriend — that stood her up, but she supposes she can be since he'd refused to go and even teased her about wanting to go.

The staircase is fine marble, allowing each footstep to click and clack with each heel that ascends because the party's just beginning. With this venue mimicking a palace, Woolim feels way out of place. Some girls have poofy dresses and others possess thinner material, accentuating the hills of each girl's curves and edges walking in. The boys are all the same, offering the bare minimum. Why does everyone get to be beautiful except her?

Shaking the last thought off, Woolim exerts so much effort to make it look like being alone and ugly doesn't bother her. But, she has to bite the bullet and make a move.

So, her legs spring up, taking her up to the rest of the party. She ignores the heat accumulating from the small of her back to just about every part of her body as she walks in, trying to take everything in and not look like such a loser. Jesus, is everyone looking at her? Are they talking about her?

There were definitely perks to this new university and one of them is the commencement of her class, which arrives in the form of a ceremony with a festivity that follows immediately after. Of course, as a transfer, she gets the initiation that throws a theme, so she has to wear the clown paint and clothes that they inform you to wear to match.

All she is missing is a crown and she's a royal fool.

The Masquerade Ball, as the provost and student affairs staff, had been rumored since before she'd even transferred to the school, which added up to just two months ago. Three months before, she had received that acceptance letter.

She should've known.

Woolim stifles a cough, hoping that the callousing - painful callousing - in her soles due to her starchy dress shoes would be able to mask the humiliation that was beginning to sting behind her eyes.

Of course, she had no identity, but everyone still looks over at her in pity.

The room offered dim lighting, romantic hues of pinks, and citrusy chardonnay beading the adjacent walls. Woolim thirsts for an exit.

The song changes to something unattainable audibly but she must not even be able to hear herself, and before she knows, someone to the side of Woolim bumps into her, back slamming against her body and into the wall.

A frantic, male voice follows, yelping out apologies, as he reaches down to pull her up.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry. Told him to not try and shake what his mama gave him and here we are, here you are, we're both so sorry..." Woolim's vision focuses as she returns to eye level and manages a minor grin at the boy as much of his appearance stands out wonderfully.

With heavily dyed platinum hair, a turquoise suit with rhinestones in various floral designs across the front and wrists, tiger eyes, and led lights curling around the outline of his mask, this boy looked like a lot of fun. A head of chestnut locks remain bowed by his shoulder.

The blond grabs her palm desperately, and he's making wailing sounds.

"I apologize for not only Seokmin but for his upbringing. May Satan guide him in return." He prayed aloud, apology too comical to be real but nonetheless real.

Woolim finally speaks up when the music quiets down just a touch and she doesn't have to stammer to be heard.

"No, you're fine! I can't really see with this mask." She reveals, voice too out there for its own good, but at this, the boy's eyes expand in shock and the bowed head lifts up with intrigue.

"Are you sure? It was pretty rude of us, wasn't it, Seokmin?" He nudges his friend, who's dressed in a simpler, humbler suit, who nods sullenly.

"I'm really, really embarrassed... besides, I think she gets it, Soonyoung."

"Whatever, Oprah singer."

"It's opera!"

The air around them hardens as they begin to bicker. Seokmin places his hands on his hips to deliver his rebuttals but the last thing that Woolim wants is to make two friends fight, let alone cause trouble while she has no date.

"I really am alright! No harm done. I'm just...a little relieved actually that someone's speaking to me," she admits wincingly. There's no need to be as honest as possible, but that doesn't stop her from adding, "I didn't come to the ball with anyone."

The two boys frown and coo, letting out maple syrupy aw's, surprisingly sympathizing with her.

"If it makes you feel any better, our dates were too busy to come, so he and I came together. We also do have another buddy with us, officially making it a threesome!" Soonyoung chats loudly and Seokmin elbows him in the chest at the last comment.

"That's not what a threesome is, Soon."

"Whatever," he waves his hand dismissively. Woolim notices that despite the gravity between the two friends, they remain focused on her. It feels nice. "We did lose him a little while ago though. Maybe he's around here somewhere."

Woolim then levels with them to form a line so she could follow their eye as they peer around the venue, which seems futile since their view is obscured by the angle, decorations, and crowds. The opaque curtains of the many entrances within the main venue gave the illusion that this place was endless. It feels like a trance that went on forever. Reality washes over Woolim and she can feel the weight of being the person one meets and should leave.

"Uh...I'm sorry for getting in your guys' way initially," she announces with a tone that makes her seem unsure of the words on her tongue. Seokmin rolls his head over at her, eyebrows drawing inwardly and puppy dog eyes. She's about to coolly and casually make her leave to no longer bother the boys, but Soonyoung has a different idea.

"Nonsense! It was our fault to begin with, and to repay your gracious hand," Soonyoung then motions to Woolim's bare hand as the other apparels one silky dress glove. "We're trying to at least become an even foursome with you and our friend! God knows where the hell the great Minghao is though!"

"Right behind you." A chilling, oolonged voice speaks up suddenly and startled enough, Woolim's disposition remains unaffected despite her heart catching up to leap in her chest with her delayed reaction.

"Minghao, you wanted to give me a heart attack, didn't you?" Seokmin sighs dramatically, voice hitching to imitate crying. Upon hearing the rich laugh, Woolim tips her head slowly and changes her footing to turn round.

The supposed Minghao peers down at Woolim, unreadable expression through the simple glow of his ivory mask. His raven black hair, lengthy and healthy, adorns his crown like he deserves a throne to come with the apparel.

"We found a person and we found you!" Soonyoung hesitantly wraps his hand around Woolim's wrist, loosely keeping his fingers around to lift and wave.

Minghao snickers delicately.

"I found you actually," he corrects, eyeing his friends, even meeting Woolim's to speak. "And I'm sure you didn't meet because of an accident, right?"

"That was on my part," Woolim speaks up but bites on her bottom lip once his piercing gaze trains upon her. "Sorry..."

"You’ve done no wrong, though?" Minghao's lips stretches into a wonderful smile.

" — yeah, it was Seokmin." Soonyoung mutters, earning himself a tiny shove.

"Minghao, you didn't come here with anyone for a date, right?" Seokmin poses. Woolim notices from his accent that Korean is not his first language but has such a grip with his words, it almost passes one's mind initially.

"Not this time," he answers nebulously. Woolim has to hold back a scowl. "If you’d like, I would love to have you... er, and what's your name?"

She can feel Soonyoung's and Seokmin's excited watch upon her but since this is the first night that she's seen boys be so decent, she figures she might, as well, make their night. They certainly have made hers, after all, excluding this Minghao at the moment.

"I'm Woolim. W-Woolim," she says twice, one too many. Minghao's expression loosens with pleasant awe.

"No surname?" He quizzes, voice too serious for it to be a joke. Woolim feels absolutely no urge to joke around, anxiety fizzing in the very marrow of her bones, so she just shakes her head and hopes he wouldn't see her cocked eyebrow.

"Well," he clears his throat. "I'm Xu Minghao. Seo Myungho. I've got 4 names."

"I've got three," Soonyoung pipes up and everyone groans.

"Soonyoung, don't say it in front of her. That's so gross." Seokmin leans over to shake his head but eye Woolim, in the way that friends who’ve known each other for a long time do. It's a nice feeling.

The music changes, taking a turn from some pop electronica to some heavy pulse from a contemporary rhythm and blues type, and the bass rocks hard enough to shake her ribs.

Minghao locks eyes with her and beams charmingly. He even takes her surprise further by reaching a hand out, fingers long and elegant.

"Would you care to dance with me? Or do you want to take this chance to leave like you were looking for earlier?"

Woolim feels like she merely imagined him asking the last question, which leads her to consider bolting for the doors last minute. Surely, Wonwoo would be home and maybe tonight, he'd be in the mood to love her and like her.

Oh, what she'd do to be loved and liked at the same time.

"Do what you would like," his tone lightens into something sweeter like rosehip. "I don't think you should put your lovely ensemble to waste."

Woolim swallows hard at that and just when she is about to acknowledge the two excited chitters from the other two boys, Minghao takes her hand into his. A cool grip overtakes a clammy warmth. Wordlessly, they somehow sail across the linoleum floor.

All the half hidden faces that had been judging her now evaporate with the blue and green lighting, hues and keys ascending into reds and minors.

Minghao is the type to maintain eye contact and Woolim hates it.

In the back of her mind, bits and pieces of her mind offer memories of what she could see of herself in the reflections. Since Sookyung shared the same favorite color that she did, Woolim went with another: sleet blue. Thin straps hang off her thick shoulders that had a loose, lace cover across her biceps and chest. The hems are riddled with sparkles and flowers. The rest of the silk sticks to each and every edge of her body before drifting off past her chronically swollen ankles with the extra layers adding volume. Her skin appears mottled but overall amber. Her mask is ridden in silvery lace and false white gems and roses. Woolim never knew she could look lovely.

"Do you mind if I hold you close?" He leads, raising their joined hands to sway.

Woolim opens her mouth only to nod. Despite the darkness of the brown and the dim lighting, she sees that his eyes are dotted with flames of the bits of lighting around the venue. The night of his pupils burn right through her and yet she only feels sparks from him, especially once his other hand comes to gently graze her waist.

"Are you okay with this?" He sways them a little more to the right with each movement. Woolim doesn't fancy being this quiet and immobile so she moves his hand into her. His hold is gentle and electrifying as if eternities have passed since she's last been embraced as sweetly as this.

"How long have you gone to this school?" Minghao leans in to better emphasize his question.

"I just transferred, actually," she says as casually as possible since the strokes they make when they sway are becoming too grand for her to catch up.

He's incredibly quick on his feet, so much so that her eyes must drop to follow their direction. Many bodies and pairs round about the two, but they all blend in with the backdrop of the room.

"Follow my counts. One, two, three ─" He drifts into quadrants, slow enough for her to catch up but she continues to knock into his chest. "─ and four. Let's go again. You're alright, I promise. Seokmin used to firmly believe his body was not built at all for anything besides existing."

Woolim glances to the side to see Seokmin rocking his hips next to Soonyoung side to side within frequent increments. They also somehow manage to can-can despite the slow synth and phrases of the song.

"Are you always this quiet?" Minghao breathes and this question catches her off guard. Perhaps taking her breath away had been his intention and he uses this to intertwine their fingers like they're meant to be.

"I’d tell you a lie but since you don't know me, I'm going to tell you the truth; I think I like having you try and get me to talk." Woolim purses her lips tightly as soon as she finds herself smirking.

Minghao steps back, which she nearly leaps to follow, but with the gentlest pivot of his wrist, Woolim twirls like one of the toys she'd wanted all her childhood. Her chest rides past the clouds and her heart pursues, shuttling upwards.

"My goodness, you're a natural!" He comments when he swings her to one side and right back into his embrace. She's smiling.

The song is still playing, and if at all possible, it's hanging above her head precariously and it's just the two of them on the planet.

"Are you sure you don't want me to know you?" He asks once more, and this time, she sheds a few feathers of her insecurities.

The song is still as powerful enough to beat as her heart.

"You ask a lot of questions, Minghao." She manages to grin and their steps narrow to continue to tread the same space.

He peers down at her and the flames are still lit.

"I can't help it. Honestly, honestly. I want to know you truly, honestly."

His loving smile buckles under the bite into his lip. She must be lying when she sees his eyes drop to her mouth. This must be a dream.

"I'm-I'm an open book," she murmurs, captivated by his own lips, and gasps quietly when the hand on her waist is suddenly cupping her jaw. No, she is not, the more authoritative Woolim reprimands silently. But it matters not - she's not loud either.

The song is still playing. It could play for eternities.

He rubs her cheek so tenderly and it has her eyes all a twinkle without realizing.

Wonwoo is no longer a thought. Sookyung no longer crosses her mind.

It only takes a few more countless seconds of wordless confirmation before Minghao dives in to take her lips with his and something behind her rib cage blossoms. He speaks against her mouth, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care.

He continues devouring her lips for the taking and she's left speechless, breaths searching for something to hold onto in between their own mouths.

The daily lows of her life are a fleeting death as she now soars high in a fairy tale-like limelight that only pertains to the two of them. All she's missing is a crown.

Where is her crown? Her mind's whispers fade with every proceeding second. And for once, Woolim feels so good that nothing matters.

#so should i keep going....? *head in hands*#seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen hoshi #seventeen dk #seventeen the8 #seventeen angst #seventeen college au

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randomidiocyncrazies · 3 years

Note

i know you like them both so yunichika and oda/aoki for the ship ask

thank you for giving me a chance to gush about these kids!!! they’re precious.... this got pretty long so imma put it under a cut

YuniChika, the main boys of 2.43:

• when or if I started shipping it:

tbh i didn’t really ship them when i read the first book... they’re the kind of pairing that i can see people shipping and i think it’s cute, but i’m not super invested in them as a romantic pairing. I think i was more sold about them as a ship in the second book, but i can’t quite remember if there was a specific moment that made me change my mind, or if it was a gradual process

• my thoughts:

i think the anime definitely played up the tension between them (allll the blushes lol), but i’m glad people are enjoying the YuniChika content XD they’re pretty cute!

also, i think they balance each other well and spur each other to become better—Yuni and Chika are both self-centered(?) in very different ways: Yuni lacks drive because he mostly wanted to please people so they’ll like him, while Chika has the opposite problem in that he acts like he doesn’t care what people think of him.

but now Yuni is able to take a stand for his interest in volleyball and for Chika, and while Chika doesn’t really soften and still has a problem with not realizing how harsh he could be, he’s more willing to communicate his thoughts.

• what makes me happy about them:

boys reuniting! relearning how to have a relationship with one another! learning from past mistakes and trying to be better people together! HELL YEAH

• what makes me sad about them:

boys, please use your words to communicate with each other...

also, from Yuni’s perspective, it’s kinda sad when someone you used to know really well comes back into your life, but they’ve changed so much that they are essentially a different person... but of course they have a new opportunity to become closer now 😉 so i’m not that sad about it

• things done in art/fic that annoys me:

... there are fanworks for them?????????

(on a more serious note, erasing their flaws to make them more likable... please don’t make Chika ‘secretly nice’ or whatever, the kid is blunt as hell, and not realizing how his words affect others is his biggest flaw. on the other hand, Yuni can still be a little spineless at times, and sometimes his priorities are. questionable.)

• things I look for in art/fic:

hm, i’d like a future fic about them as professional players! i think their inclination is to stick together (they’re a package deal!) but it’d be super interesting to read something where they’re on rival teams years down the line

EDIT: haha Chika actually transferred to Keisei High School after their first Spring Tournament, so he and Yuni have faced each other as rivals since then (2.43 next 4years). they’re go to the same university and are on the same team now though!

• who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

uh i don’t really have specific people for this, but Chika would probably have to be with someone who understands his love of volleyball (like Oda, but if Oda wasn’t their team captain and thus too much of a dad friend to qualify as a romantic interest), and someone who can inspire Yuni would be good for him

also, i know who i’d NOT be comfy about: the first book (and anime i guess) had this weird tension between Itoko and Yuni, COUSINS who BASICALLY GREW UP TOGETHER. i think(?) their weird whatever was mostly dropped in the 2nd book and wasn’t really made explicit, but like. what the hell. (i have no idea what happens beyond the 2nd book.)

• my happily ever after for them:

the YuniChika in college arc is being serialized rn, so in a way that’s already fulfilled? (i have NO idea what’s going on tho)

in general i just hope they can play volleyball together until one or both decide not to, for whatever reason, and that they stay in each other’s lives and support each other even after they’ve retired from competitive volleyball. i think with Yuni’s personality he could be a good coach after getting more experience, and Chika... he’s really valuable as a strategist, but I think he’d always be a little brusque, so he’s respected but hard to bond with if he does take on coaching?

• what is their favorite non-sexual activity?

bold of you to assume Chika even cares about sex

anyway, they don’t go to movies for a romantic date night, they go watch volleyball matches. sometimes this backfires when Chika gets too frustrated at bad plays tho

and of course i will never pass up an opportunity to talk about Oda/Aoki, the main guys of my heart (my OTP for this series tbh):

• when or if I started shipping it:

they pinged on my radar when they were bickering in Ibara’s chapter, but i wasn’t super duper invested... and then I got to The Dog’s Perspective and the Giraffe’s Perspective (specifically The Kick™) and oh god i’ve never fallen so fast

• my thoughts:

GOD WOW Aoki really loves Oda... even though objectively Oda’s height prevents him from being a super ace, he is the coolest, strongest super ace to Aoki. i think it’s beautiful that someone can see you as your best self even when you’re feeling shitty about yourself. Aoki knows that objectively Oda faces a lot of obstacles, and wants to support him as best as he can—not out of pity (pity would’ve burned out long ago), but because he really respects Oda’s passion and drive.

also, these two have unaddressed issues that they should talk about! Oda, i know you feel inferior but you are so much better than you think you are. please accept that Aoki really does respect you, and that you are worthy of it (or like, you don’t have to be ‘’’worthy’’’’ or ‘’’’’’deserving’’’’’’’’’’ of it, because it is Aoki’s choice to support you and play volleyball with you!!! it’s not something you gotta earn, it’s something freely and happily given to you)

(ahhhhhh i die when i think of them)

• what makes me happy about them:

gosh i love their dynamic SO MUCH! Oda is exactly my type of character (passionate, determined, knowing that he can never be the best at what he’s passionate about due to factors he cannot control, trying to be kind and gracious but struggling with feelings of inferiority and jealousy, thinks of himself as a selfish person, a supporting character...) and Aoki’s devotion is really touching.

again: even when you feel like crap about yourself, there’s someone out there who thinks you’re the best thing that happened to them.

there’s also the fact that Oda thinks the world of Aoki as well (to the point of feeling inferior, which is like... c’mon Oda :/ you are better than you think you are!) he trusts Aoki a lot, despite knowing his willingness to engage in, uh, underhanded methods

• what makes me sad about them:

it’s their last year together, and they’d be approaching a new phase of their lives in different places... although Aoki offered to lower his rankings so they’d go to the same university, realistically they’ll go to different colleges, and most likely end up in different prefectures. (like, not only do i think it’s a Terrible Idea to give up your dream school so that you could stay with someone else, there is no way Oda would accept the offer without being crushed by guilt. something like that would actually ruin their relationship, which i think Aoki knows as well.)

there’s also a lot left unsaid between them at this point and i just want them to lay everything out between them and move forward together

• things done in art/fic that annoys me:

the fact that there’s NONE >:[ what does a gal have to do to get some content for them???????

• things I look for in art/fic:

at this point anything is fine.... it’s a desert out there and i’m dying

more specifically i’m Extremely Down for a get together fic; i personally only see them getting together after high school, at least several months (or even longer) studying in different prefectures and no longer able to see each other every day. (i mean... absence makes the heart grow fonder right?)

i’d also love to see Oda using Aoki’s first name, considering Aoki calls him “Shin” and all. Oda managing to surprise/fluster Aoki would be nice too.

EDIT: they’re both in the Kansai region (2.43 next 4years prologue). Oda’s revealed to be studying in Osaka, and assuming Aoki got into KyoDai, they should be around 2 hours away from each other by train? so visiting each other over short breaks would be cute! also, apparently Oda took a gap year before going to Osaka (2.43 next 4years Ch 1.2), so something set during that time would also be awesome :V

• who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

hm... if i had to imagine people well-suited to them, i’d say Aoki’s type is people who are straightforwardly passionate about their interests (Oda hooked him with his unbridled love of volleyball way back in their first year of high school after all), and I think Oda probably needs someone who is willing to indulge him a little (like Chika he can be pretty dang determined about what he wants, though without the single-minded intensity at the expense of everything else)

... this is just a roundabout way of saying i think they’re ideal for each other, especially if they resolve the problem of hiding things from the other

• my happily ever after for them:

they get careers/hobbies they enjoy, and get a place together as boyfriends/husbands. no i will not hear any criticism of this idea

i can see Aoki working in the private sector (this guy is fine with ‘joking’ about blackmail after all!) after getting his law degree. this is super self-indulgent, but given his penchant of rooting for passionate but objectively disadvantaged entities, i think it’d be pretty awesome if he works for a smaller company that truly believes in their work, instead of working at a big firm pulling in big bucks.

while I’m not sure what Oda is canonically studying, I can see him going into sports education or sports therapy—i think he’d be really good at nurturing the talents of other athletes, and he’s good at rallying the team (Aoki pretty much says he’s the heart of the team in the epilogue of the first book, though Aoki’s kiiinda biased lol). i think it’d be really cute if Oda coaches a grade school team!

neither plays volleyball competitively after high school, but sometimes they watch matches for fun (esp if their ex-teammates are playing). Oda also makes Aoki come to his students’ matches if he doesn’t have work

EDIT: apparently Oda continues competing as a wing spiker in college, playing in Kaisai’s 2nd Collegiate Division (2.43 next 4years Ch 1.2)—Aoki probably watches his matches, even when he’s busy (and Oda probably chides him for neglecting his work, but they both know Aoki can manage his workload).

• what is their favorite non-sexual activity?

hm... idk, i think they’re the kind of couple who are cool with just chilling with each other doing their own work. like, Oda planning strategies for the kids he’s coaching while Aoki reads next to him, occasionally glancing over to make comments, stuff like that

also since Oda says they mostly talked about volleyball during high school, I can kinda see them finding something new they both enjoy after they get together? Maybe shounen manga, for something fun

#2.43 #2.43 anime #2.43 seiin high school boys volleyball team #2.43 seiin koukou danshi volley bu #yunichika #odaoki #replies

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youralphabull4u · 4 years

Text

more tormenting the cuck

Really looking forward to the weekend. My princess is spending Friday night thru Sunday afternoon with me since her cuck is out of town for the weekend. This will be the longest she’s stayed with me. I’ve instructed her to tease her cuck and drop little comments like “my pussy is going to be so worn out by Sunday” and “I wonder how many times I’ll cum on that lovely cock of his this weekend”.

I’ve been sending him texts and teasing thoughts as well. Yesterday I sent him one that said “so looking forward to spending the weekend with my princess. Sleeping next to her. Waking up next to her. Watching her walk around my house naked all weekend.”

He was very appropriate with his response telling me ”I hope you enjoy it very much. The two of you deserve weekends like this and I know she is looking forward to it. Thank you for providing the things she needs that I can’t.”

I pushed him to make him type it out....”what things do I provide that you can’t cuck?”

“Satisfying sex sir. Only you fuck her like she needs, craves, and deserves.”

“That’s right cuck I do. Do you feel like you should show me some appreciation for helping you out and making up for your inadequacies?”

“yes sir...I do appreciate it very much”

“I know you do cuck. But I want you to show me. Tell me how you want to show your gratitude cuck” (he knows what I want to hear)

“May I please come worship your cock sir? Worship the only cock that pleases my wife?”

“Yes cuck I will allow you to make out with my cock for awhile but you won’t be getting my cum today. I want you to edge me and make my balls swell with cum so that I can give your wife an extra large load tomorrow.”

“I understand sir. What time do you want me to stop by?”

So from there we worked out the details and he come over at 4:00. As instructed it came in and removed all of his clothes per my rules. (He’s always to be naked except his chastity cage in my house)

I was sitting at the kitchen table working on my laptop. We exchanged our usual casual greetings and he was just standing there naked and awkward. I tell him “I’m not finished just yet but you may get started on what you came here wanting to do” As I said this I slightly opened one leg up toward him where he could see my cock hanging off the edge of my chair and inviting him to crawl under the table without any words necessary.

As he crawled under the table I nudged him with my legs to get myself comfortable and relaxed into the chair...still somewhat pretending to be more into what was on my computer than what he was doing.

His training has progressed nicely and he stays very much in role around me now. He asked from under the table, “may I suck your cock sir?

I sort of mumbled back, “yeah sure”...in a dismissive tone as I basically ignored him.

As he worked my cock with his mouth it did start to get hard but I continued to not acknowledge his efforts as best I could. I left him there for what probably seemed like forever to him but it was only 10 minutes or so before I told him I had finished my work and wanted to go to the sofa where I could relax.

I got up and headed for the den as he slowly tried to unfold his aching legs and crawl out from under the table. I could hear him groaning a bit as he worked to stand up. As he got to the den I was already kicked back on the sofa. I tell him “stretch your legs for a minute then get back to work cuck”

I guess he felt ridiculous and awkward just standing there or just wanted my cock back in his mouth because he was just staring at it...not looking up toward my eyes at all...he slowly knelt back down and using nothing but his mouth (as trained) scooped my semi hard cock up and sucked it into his mouth.

As he sucked I picked up my phone and started to snap some pics and take some video. Before hitting record I told him “I want you to take it deep as you can and keep it there for as long as you can....then when you pull off to catch you breath, look up at me and tell me you love sucking my cock”

As he nodded in understanding I hit record. He wasn’t expecting me to be recording and stumbled a bit with his words when he looked up to me but got the words out.

While still recording I asked him, “why are you here sucking my cock today?”

He looked a bit confused, obviously not remembering right off the comment I made about working up a big load for his wife later but I loved his replay.

“to worship and show gratitude to the only cock that pleases my wife” he said meekly.

“yes, cuck...that is one of your only sexually related purposes but why are you working my cock today...knowing I’m not letting you have my cum today?”

That triggered his memory....

“I’m here to edge you and make sure your balls and nice and full and swollen with cum so you can give my wife and extra large load of your seed tonight”

“that’s right cuck...glad I got that on video. Me and your wife will have some fun watching that later. You may continue”

From there I let him work my cock for awhile and actually could begin to feel an orgasm stirring in my balls. As the feeling came on I would instruct him to slow down or just stop and hold my cock in his mouth. I would flex a bit and apparently was oozing precum into his mouth because he would make a satisfied “mmmmm” sound and would start to gently suck.

“you getting some precum cuck?”

He just nodded and moaned softly.

“you’re doing good cuck. Is it nice to finally find a way to provide some sexual pleasure for someone besides yourself?”

He just nodded and kept sucking.

“You seem to be settling into your natural place as a cuckold very nicely. It’s good that you have been able to accept that you are sexually useless to women and be gracious in allowing a better man take care of your wife’s sexual needs.”

He just nodded in acceptance looking up at me briefly. I didn’t need a response.

“I know you haven’t cum in over a week but you do know it’s October...you and your cuck buddies get off on this whole ‘Locktober’ thing don’t you cuck. Well I’ve chatted with your wife some about it and she was fine to let me go at this however I wanted to. You will stay locked all of October with a weekly release for cleaning. Max you will be out for 5 minutes. You will come here for you cleaning. I will have a large cup of ice water ready in case you can’t control your little dick.”

His eyes got a wide as I could see his brain trying to calculate the weeks he would go without orgasm as he stopped sucking my cock and stared at me.

“Your cuckold training is progressing nicely but it’s time we push your submission a bit further. I want you to show me and your wife your commitment to making this kinky threeway poly relationship work. Are you willing to endure extra time without orgasm to show us your commitment?”

“Yes sir” he said hesitantly “how long are you thinking?”

“You tell me cuck....the longest you have been without orgasm so far is 6 weeks. I want you to make us believe that your orgasm and your own selfish sexual needs are not the reason you work to please us and make this relationship work long term. I have a date in mind for your next orgasm but I want you to suggest one....and you better impress me.”

Was fun to watch him struggle with the answer...I can’t imagine all the factors he was considering as he contemplated.

“Christmas sir?”

Wow, nice cuck, not bad....but I was thinking new years eve. So you have something to look forward to but you know by now that your attitude around me and your wife is what’s important.

“yes sir, would you like for me to suck your cock some more now?”

“my balls are starting to ache...suck them into your mouth and massage them with your tongue”

As he worked my balls I stroked my cock just a bit then let it lay across his face. It was a hot visual so I took another pic or two to humiliate him with later.

“It’s so hot that you have stood by submissively and watched me take over your sexual place in your marriage...and that you thank me for it. Damn dude, I don’t totally understand what makes a cuckold tick but I’m loving the benefits. Stand up cuck”

From his knees he struggled to stand because he had been on them awhile. I stood up and helped him up...because I am a gentleman, lol.

I still had my phone in hand and told him a wanted one more pic.

“Look down cuck...see my cock next to yours in that cage? That’s your new normal. Your cock is insignificant and irrelevant to your role as a cuckold. I’m taking this pic with both of our cocks together to remember this day.”

He continued to look down, not saying a word but I knew he was processing his reality.

“I got to get somethings done around here cuck, we’ll see you later”

Really just indicating that it was time for him to leave. He walked for the door and started to dress when he reached his neatly folded pile of clothes in the chair by the door.

As he opened the door to leave i told him, “I’ll send you plenty of pics this weekend cuck. Friday night we’re going to dinner then back here for some naked time. Saturday night I’m dressing her super slutty and taking her to Trapeze (our local swingers club) My plan is to have her go in a gas station to get me a water or something while I pump gas. Then I’m stopping again at a liquor store and we’ll go in together. I’m glad that sort of thing gets blood pumping for all three of us.”

“OH, and I haven’t decided yet...will have to play it by ear, but I’m definitely fucking that tight ass of hers this weekend.”

I could see him try to formulate a response but there wasn’t really an appropriate one I guess.

He just said with a wave as he got in his car, “ok, have a fun weekend....and thanks for looking after her for me”

Why that’s so arousing to me I don’t know but it is....a totally defeated cuck accepting his place as a cuckold. Knowing reality will hit him shortly as he drives home that ‘shit, I’m not going to cum for 3 months...and what have I done? I may not enjoy the feeling of my wife’s pussy around my cock ever again.’

Knowing all those thoughts make his little cock try to get hard and fight against his cage...I love that.

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yconic · 4 years

Note

Can you do “We went to school together but haven’t seen each other in a long time and wow have you gotten tall.” With stony pls?

Sure!! Sorry this took so long lol, things were hectic. Hope this is what you looked for :>

∆∆∆

"Tall. Beard. Tall. Handsome. Tall. Cute. "

"Tony, " Rhodey had that barely restrain amusement clinging to his tone, the familiar note he had whenever Tony was being his trademark ridiculous self and he was getting a great kick out of it, but Tony was too preoccupied with oogling Steve to care. "Either kiss the poor guy or let him go."

Naturally, Tony's supposedly genius mind chooses to glitch at the moment he intended to dish a smartass quip or witty one liner, all he give is a small, high pitched "Huh? "

Rhodey holds back a laugh, but the way he bites the inside of his cheek gives him away. "You've been holding Steve's face for like 10 minutes now."

Huh. It's true, Tony realizes, as if he can only now see the pair of warm blue eyes looking down at him, shadowed with a fondness that makes his heart stop for a good second. His hands are cupping Steve's grinning face, and tries not to blush at how Steve nuzzled into his palm, not at all inadequated by the predicament he's in. "I'm good here, actually."

"This is hard to watch, " the scary shadow with the name of Bucky comments from Steve's side, eyeing Sam's back frame from his spot at the bar (Because Tony went through enough bullshit in high school, the least this reunion could amend for him is to be held in a bar)

Tony doesn't think anyone has the right to judge or blame him. This is Steve, the same little spitfire with heroic streak miles wide from the North pole that could barely touch shoulders with him in their youth. With Tony, who, although sulkily, knows was the shortest in his class.

Who, now, was smiling brightly down at him with a small but prominent blush dusting his fair features. Tony pouted, not missing the way Steve tracked the movement. "God. Did they give you Popeye's canned spinach in the army, or something? Who let you be this tall?"

Steve's eyebrow quirks upwards, in synch with his lips. "Well, who let you be this pretty?"

Twin groans of disgust leave Rhodey and Bucky at once, both of course painfully unimpressed by their spectacle. Tony will deny it for the rest of his life even with the photographic evidence Rhodey most likely took, that he did not, in fact, flushed in pleasure at that compliment.

"Wow, " he mutters, clearing his throat so the break in his words is less noticeable, asaa last-minute attempt to dignify himself. "Well, it's a good thing the boldness remained intact. I always did say it'll get you in trouble, but it was also my favorite thing about you, so I can't really complain."

But Steve always had a more timid side to him, one that Tony loved as well, something very gracious and modest only men with old souls have, and he could still spot it now by how Steve ducked his head then as it did years ago. His younger self shined through his actions and it was more than endearing.

"Well, didn't do me much good back then after all, when I... There's really no nice way of phrasing this, when I left you on Prom, " Steve winced, eyes soft and apologetic. "Still sorry about that, by the way. "

"It was a dick move, " Bucky nodded. "Natasha beat his ass for it, if it's any consolation."

Tony sighed in the inside, anticipating this moment. He would've been more affected, probably, if that hadn't been the precise motivation that lead to him attending the event. He never had the chance to question Steve's change of heart as he enlisted as soon as he could, without as much as a peek back and no word of goodbye for Tony.

It had hurt terribly, back then, when he was young and deadset on letting the anger stew in him, but as the years stacked on top of each other he learned to move on, and the little grudge he held for his high school sweetheart turned into a curiosity, declining from a stab of pain to a subdued aching.

His feelings for Steve remained as strong as they were since the blonde asked him on their first date, which, he realized was more than pitiful, still harboring emotions for something as little as High School romance, for someone who most likely moved on.

But he needed to know, even when knowing it wouldn't do much to squash the crush that gradually blossomed into something... More. On his part, at least.

Tony forced a smile on his lips and shrugged, taking his hands back so he could play with the warm amber of his whiskey glass, promptly ignoring the saddened shade taking home in Steve's look. "No hard feelings, Captain Crunch. If I wasn't trapped in this objectively hot body, I'd ditch myself too."

The air felt heavier somehow, an imaginary weight falling over them, even with the faux chipper in Tony's joke. Rhodey must have taken notice because he grabbed Bucky's arm, excusing them to the bathroom. Not before he looked directly at Steve and did a slit motion across his throat using his thumb, making Tony snort.

Quietly, Steve took the smaller man's hands into his own, lacing their fingers together. Tony gasped slightly at the tender gesture, but didn't pull back or encouraged Steve to let him go. Steve took that as permission to go on.

"First of all, " Steve's voice took that firm edge it possessed back then, even with his weak lungs that gasped for breath after every P.E. class he was determined to attend because he refused to be left out. " don't talk about yourself that way. You know how much I hate it. Second of all, if I could punch my old self for making you think I wanted to ditch you, I would."

"He'd probably die because he would not hesitate to fight you, " a small smile graced Tony's lips, feeling more real than he felt comfortable with. "Can I just... Ask why? I mean, you don't owe me an explanation or anything, we were kids, it's not that big of a deal, but I mean... If I did something, I'd like to at least know.''

Steve sighed, his own smile sad and barely there. "Would you believe me if said I didn't show up because I couldn't fit into my Pa's suit?"

Tony giggled. '' You're still shit at lying. Steve, " his own tone softened slightly, squeezing Steve's large hands, rough skinned with callouses, but still comforting. "Just tell me."

"... I didn't wanna embarrass ya, " the confession left Tony flabbergasted. Blinking slowly, as if he just mishear something. His words failed him, but nodded, processing, giving Steve the Que. "Tony, you just... Ya were a big shot, you know? You were handsome, rich, smart, popular, everything everyone wanted to be.

Everyone had their eyes on you, your father, the school, the media. It was bad enough you were dating a guy, but being taken to prom by one who looked like me back then? It would've, it just, - it would've been humiliating. I couldn't do that to you. Not only was I a riff raff, I was too skinny, I was ugly, I was, -"

"You stop that right the hell now, Steven, " Tony growled, sharply, so sharp it made Steve shut his mouth with an audible click. "There wasn't and isn't even one ugly thing about you, do you understand me? Riff raff- Steve you had a job since you were 15! You helped paying bills even if you shouldn't have, because you wanted to help your parents. What's embarrassing about that? Do you really think I give a fuck about how much money you made?"

"Tony, - I've seen the people you dated after we graduated , " Steve sounded wounded as he said it. Tony wanted to kiss all his pain away as his life depended on it. "I could've never compete with that, - Hell, for some, I still couldn't compete. I was less than dust put next to them. "

"I didn't care!" He might have been a bit loud, because some heads were turned, yet quickly retreated after the death glare they received from the angry brunette.

"Steve. I liked you because you gave your food to the homeless in every lunch period, because you volunteered at canteens with your mom and because you kept on drawing me every day for 4 years. Because you were outspoken, and funny, and kind, and cared so much about other people. Because you treated me so damn well. These people that you mentioned, they didn't treat me half as good as you did. I didn't give a shit what the world had to say about it. Between the world and you, I pick you. I'll always pick you."

Steve listened. Steve nodded. And Steve cried. One trembling hand wiped at wet eyes, and Tony resisted the urge to take his hand back and press comforting pecks on it.

Inhaling and exhaling, Steve got a grip on himself, wet laugh puffing out. It made Tony's chest hurt. "God, I was such a fucking idiot, huh? I, - I knew you wouldn't care, I knew, but I still went ahead and - God, I'm so sorry sweetheart. " Laughter deeming, a pinched but guilty expression taking its place. " I... I at least hope Hammer treated you half right. It's more than I ever did, -"

"Wait wait wait. Wait. Back it up a bit, - Hammer? As in, Justin Hammer? Why would he have anything to do with this?" At Steve's blank expression, the wheels in Tony's head sped up, allowing him to connect the dots. "Steve... You know I never went to prom, right?"

Steve paused. "What?"

"I never went to prom. And even if I did, Hammer would be the last reject I'd pick from the toolbox. He tried, sure, but I told him the same thing I said to Howard. 'I'm going to Steve, or I'm not going at all. ' "

"But, - But, Hanmer told everyone that he took you to prom, that, - " Steve stopped mid-sentence, face wooden as if he only now got a very simple epiphany. He facepalmed. Hard. Tony was concerned he'd get brain damage. "I'll let Natasha shoot me. It should be illegal to be this dumb."

"Not dumb. Just taking your own pace, " Tony chuckled. "So... All this time, you didn't contact me because you thought I was with Hammer? " His nose wrinkled in disgust just thinking about it, an expression Steve mirrored.

"No. I was just? Too chickenshit to face you, after everything. Honestly, I thought you hated my guts, which, who could blame you, but... I couldn't have handled that. So I stayed away." A self-deprecating snort accompanied a shake of head. "Guess all these extra inches are wasted, huh?"

Tony thinks about Steve, with his frail fists drenched in blood from split knuckles, fighting back against bullies who thought they could walk all over him or others, with his loud voice battling ignorant, hateful ideas, against big foes and bigger, and he says: "You were tall back then, too."

Steve stares and says nothing for a prolonged moment, content to look at Tony as if he's falling in love all over again. It makes Tony hopeful, fills him with something warm he didn't think he'd want to indulge again.

He's building up nerve, Tony can see that much, and right when he thinks he'd lose it, that they'd part again, Steve pulled him against his chest and pressed light kisses on top of Tony's head. It felt like pieces of love. "We're going to go on a date, " Steve murmured, voice hoarse. " and I'm going to give you the night I should've given you years ago. I'll give you the fairy tale, baby."

Tony smiles in the chest, nose taking in the scent he missed so much, listens to the heartbeat whose pattern he could still remember, still knows as well as his mind. " You get the story. Leave the happy ending to me."

The kiss they shared was shy, and timid, and felt too young, but it was just right for them.

84 notes · View notes

okayoonoh · 4 years

Text

what do we do now?

“Those instructions weren’t too bad, right? Just one task, he had the whole day to do it.

So why, oh why, did Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair himself?”

---

- PAIRING: kim doyoung x reader - GENRE: family fluff and some humor! - RATING: e for everyone!! - WORD COUNT: 7,255 - WARNINGS: just the fear of doyoung cutting his only son’s hair for the first time

a/n: the idea for this scenario came to me randomly and i just KNEW that doyoung and taeyong would fit best in this! i hope you guys like it!

here’s the masterlist to all things nct dad related! go and check out all of the other parts i have!

[ navi ]

---

key:

y/bf/n - your best friend’s name

t/w/n - taeyong’s wife’s name

---

It was simple, really. You told your ever loving husband to do one thing. One simple thing.

Hey Doyoung, please don’t forget to take Minyoung out for a haircut.

Those instructions weren’t too bad, right? Just one task, he had the whole day to do it.

So why, oh why, did Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair himself?

The day started off as a beautiful day. Your precious 8 month old son finally slept through the night after a couple weeks of deciding that the early hours of the morning are for partying, not sleeping. You wake up to silence; the sunlight shining through the curtain, streams of warm light dispersing themselves throughout the soft features of your husband’s face. Your heart flutters. Waking up next to him everyday still overflows your heart with so much love and happiness. You know for sure that you are right where you belong in this moment in time.

You move gently from the bed, not wanting to wake up your sleepy husband. Taking quiet steps, you move over to the crib next to the bed, checking on your dear son. His eyes were shut, indicating that he had no intention in waking up anytime soon. You smooth over his dark hair, realizing his bangs have grown so much since he was born. Holding back a laugh, you reminisce on the times your son’s thick hair seemed non-existent, clearly remembering Doyoung’s major concern of that day.

---

“Babe, do you think we should be concerned about his hair? It just looks so thin.” Doyoung says from your side, his skinny frame squished in the tight hospital bed beside you, his arm around your shoulders as you hold your son born merely hours ago.

Your newborn lays comfortably in your arms, his soft blanket swaddling him perfectly. He looked like a doll with a soft squishy face, seemingly flawless.

“I mean look,” Doyoung says, reaching a hand to remove the green beanie that rests on his newborn’s head, “It’s not like there’s no hair, but Minyoung just looks bald at this point.”

You glare at your husband, reaching for the beanie Doyoung pulled out abruptly, gently placing it back on the baby’s head. “Look, all babies are different, Doyoung. We should be happy; some babies are born with no hair at all! Let’s be happy with the hair he has, okay?”

Doyoung sighs, “You’re right, you’re right. It just goes to show that he doesn’t even need hair to be the cutest baby in the world.” His voice raises in pitch as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss on Minyoung’s forehead. Minyoung wiggles a bit in your arms, a little annoyed that his dad woke him up from his sleep. You shush him, lulling the little baby back to sleep. You rest your head against Doyoung’s shoulder, his head resting on top of yours while you both look down at your entire world wrapped in a small bundle. Everything seems perfect.

---

The days where your son’s hair was manageable and thin seem like yesterday. The days where the only thing you needed to do was let his hair just exist. You find yourself buying more hair pins, headbands, and clips for Minyoung rather than yourself. He may be less than a year old, but his hair is just getting too long. You decide, it’s time.

It’s time for Minyoung to get his first haircut.

Smoothing over his bangs one more time, you look at the alarm clock on your bedside table.

7:13. You sigh, deciding now is the best time to get ready for the day. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table, your best friend’s name popping up as a text notification.

Y/BF/N: good morning y/n! taeyong’s wife said that she’s dropping off little youngchul at your place before heading over to the store. i originally had plans in the morning but they’ve been cancelled! I’ll be heading to your place with her so that we can all go to the boutique together.

Today is the first day in a long time since you’ve gone out with just your friends. Your best friend was recently engaged and as her “maid of honor”, you have to go with her to say yes to the dress. Thankfully, your best friend knew your circumstances and didn’t put too many responsibilities on you since you’ve become a mom merely 8 months ago. She agrees that it’s easier for her, too. She’s always been someone who’s more on the particular side of things.

Ever since your son was born, the most you’ve been out of the house was a quick dinner date you had with Doyoung; his parents gracious enough to watch their grandchild for a couple hours so you and Doyoung could breathe. No one said parenting would be easy and you and Doyoung are feeling the testament of it right now. Today will be Doyoung’s first time alone with Minyoung and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. It’s not that you don’t trust your husband, it’s just this is the first time either of you are alone with the baby for this long.

Heading over to the bathroom, you grab your toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste on the bristles, wetting it, then brushing your teeth. You check your reflection in the mirror, checking your sleepy complexion. You hear the sheets of your bed rustle, watching as your sleepy husband makes his way out of bed. His feet pad against the wooden floor as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arm around your side and kissing the top of your head.

“Morning,” he says, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You lean over the sink, rinse, and dry your mouth.

“Morning,” you reply with a kiss on his cheek. “Are you nervous for today?”

“Not really,” he replies, turning on the sink wet his hands as he gets ready to wash his face. “I think I’ll be okay. It’s only for a day.”

You nod, watching as your husband grabs your cleanser, rubbing some in his hands and putting it on his face.

“Oh, before I forget.” You grab your phone from the counter, texting a location to Doyoung. “Please don’t forget to take Minyoung out for a haircut. I just sent you the address of my friend’s salon and she said she’ll do it for free since Minyoung is still a baby. You have to do it before 3:00, though. She has a full schedule after that so she can’t take us in after that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it done.” Doyoung smiles after he rinses off his face. You return his smile with your own, gently rubbing his back in appreciation.

“Also! I forgot to give her back the necklace I borrowed from her, can you give this to her as well?”

Doyoung nods, “I’ll take care of it, babe. Don’t worry about us at home, go and enjoy your day with your friends.”

You smile at your husband, glad to see his attempts to comfort you. With a final pat on his back, you head back towards your bedroom, walking to the closet. Your phone buzzes in your hand, a notification popping up on the screen, this time a text from Taeyong’s wife.

T/W/N: i have some good news! well, more for our husbands, lol. taeyong’s schedule has been cleared, so doyoung doesn’t have to watch both babies on his own!

You smile, texting back.

YOU: that’s perfect! I was so nervous that doyoung would just forget everything, but i feel comforted that taeyong will be there now!

You place your phone down on the bedside table, going back into the closet to finish selecting your outfit. It’s time to get back into the rhythm of things.

---

Ding-dong

“I got it,” Doyoung says, “Babe, can you keep stirring this for me?”

You nod, quickly moving to the kitchen while Doyoung heads towards the door. You stir the soup Doyoung was making, grabbing a spoon to give it a taste.

“Hello!” Doyoung cheers when he opens the door, happy to see the visitors. Taeyong, his wife, and your best friend enter the door, Youngchul resting in his mother’s arms.

“Youngchul! Look at you!” Doyoung smiles as they all make their way in. Doyoung lays out his hands, wanting to hold the adorable baby. Taeyong’s wife hands Youngchul to Doyoung with a smile, thanking your husband so she can remove her shoes.

They all enter the kitchen, Doyoung attempting to make little Youngchul laugh the entire way there.

“Dude, your best friend is here and you’ve only been acknowledging my son,” Taeyong pouts at your husband.

“I’m sorry, Taeyong. Little Youngchul is just more interesting than you,” Doyoung says, not taking his eyes off of the baby. Taeyong laughs in response, taking a look around the living room.

“Hi, Y/N!” Taeyong says when he sees you. You walk over and give him a hug.

“Hey Taeyong! Thank you so much for coming here. I don’t think Doyoung could survive by himself.” You smile. You see your friends and hug them as well, each one of you excited for the day.

Taeyong replies, “Don’t worry, Y/N. This is my first time being alone with Youngchul so we’ll both be going through it, but at least it’ll be together.”

“Y/N! We have to get going or we’re going to be late!” Your best friend says, all while eating some seaweed from the soup, causing you to giggle. Knowing the nature of your best friend, you knew that she forgot to eat before she arrived at your place.

You quickly grab a snack for your friend and the three of you get ready to leave the house. You walk towards your room to check on Minyoung one last time, kissing his forehead. You head back to the kitchen to kiss Doyoung goodbye and good luck, then you leave the house to meet up with your friends.

Doyoung sets the table, Taeyong sitting down with Youngchul on his lap.

“Where’s Minyoung?” Taeyong asks, bouncing the leg Youngchul sits on.

“Minyoung is still asleep,” Doyoung replies while filling up two bowls with the soup he made, “My son is finally sleeping through the night and we’ve learned that he really does like to sleep a lot.”

Doyoung sets the soup down in front of Taeyong, sitting across from his friend.

“I wish Youngchul would be at that stage,” Taeyong says, taking a spoonful of soup and carefully blowing on it, “The longest Youngchul has slept has been 5 hours, but that was after a full day of the ever energetic Chenle and Jisung watching after him.”

Doyoung nods, eating a spoonful of soup as well. While the two dads catch each other up with the latest news, Youngchul looks at all of the tasty food in front of him. Formula was great, don’t get him wrong, but with his new, growing set of teeth, he wants a bite of the real stuff. In his father’s tight grasp, Youngchul does his best to lean forward and grab the seemingly delicious soup his father was eating.

“Pa! Pa!” Youngchul grunts, leaning forward with all of his might in attempt to eat some of the yummy food.

“No, Youngchul, this isn’t for you,” Taeyong says, pulling the boy back. Taeyong takes a little bit of rice and puts it in front of his son’s mouth, “Here, you can eat this. Say ahhh”

Youngchul opens his mouth, letting his father feed him the small grains of rice. He smiles and claps, making a noise of approval of the delicious food he just received, causing both dads to laugh.

“Do you like it, Youngchul?” Doyoung asks with a gummy smile on his face. Youngchul returns the smile with his own, clapping his hands. Both dads let out a laugh at the baby’s adorable antics.

A loud cry cuts through the air, causing Doyoung to spring up and head straight towards the bedroom.

“Are you awake, Minyoung?” Doyoung says, leaning over the crib to pick up the crying baby. Minyoung continues to cry, his strong lungs seemingly sending shockwaves throughout the entire house.

Doyoung quickly calms down his son, changes the baby's diaper, then heads back to the kitchen where Taeyong is.

“Youngchul look! Minyoung is awake now,” Taeyong says while his son looks over at Minyoung.

“Oh my god, look at that hair!” Taeyong laughs after noticing Minyoung’s unkempt hair. With random pieces sticking up, bangs growing past his eyes, one chunk that decided to be curly, Minyoung wins the award for “Best Bed Head” by a long shot.

Doyoung moves his son to the side to take a look, his eyes going wide. “Minyoung! What happened?! Your hair wasn’t like this last night!”

With Taeyong’s laughter in the background, Doyoung walks towards the bathroom, grabbing one of your hair clips that you use for your son. He sits Minyoung on the counter so Minyoung can see himself through the mirror, fixing his son’s unkempt hair.

Doyoung grabs the brush and gently brushes the rebellious strands that don’t want to stay up.

“Minyoung,” Doyoung starts, looking at his son’s reflection through the mirror, “Youngchul and your favorite Uncle came here to see you! Appa will make sure you look just as handsome as him so your Uncle will be jealous that my son is so handsome.”

“Appa! Pa!” Minyoung giggles.

“Yes, I’m appa!” Doyoung clips up Minyoung’s bangs, the hair sticking straight up, “There! Now we can see your eyes!”

He lifts him up into his arms and kisses his soft cheeks, now heading back to the kitchen. After the quick refresher, Doyoung sits back down in his seat, this time with Minyoung in his lap.

“Good morning, Minyoung!” Taeyong smiles towards the baby, “Youngchul, say good morning to your best friend!”

Both babies simply stare at each other, Youngchul’s sparkly eyes meeting Minyoung’s soft eyes. These two see each other often, but this is the first time they’ve seen each other this early in the morning. While Youngchul gnaws on his fingers, he gives Minyoung a cheerful smile accompanied by a soft coo. Minyoung returns the smile with his own, happy to see his best friend.

Once both dads finally finish feeding themselves and their sons, they all find their way to the living room, two boys occupying themselves with the various toys on the mat while their fathers watch. Minyoung quickly finds two of his favorite toys within his proximity and crawls over to his friend, handing him one of the toys. Youngchul grabs the toy, giving his best friend a smile to show his gratitude. Both boys stare at each other again while a couple beats pass. They suddenly both burst out into laughter, seemingly talking in their own language.

“It’s really crazy how much they’ve grown,” Taeyong says, watching the babbling babies on the ground, “It really seems like just the other day they couldn’t keep their heads up.”

“I know,” Doyoung says, leaning over to wipe the drool off of Minyoung’s face, “Before we know it, they’ll be running all over the place with each other.”

“Youngchul has already started walking a bit!” Taeyong says, smiling down at his son as Youngchul crawls towards his father, hitting his hands against his father’s leg.

“Really?” Doyoung exclaims.

“He needs a little help, but with his walker at home, he walks all over the place without us! He even dances when we put music on for him.” Youngchul looks up at his father and whines, hitting his hand against his father’s leg again.

“Let’s show your Uncle Doyoung how well you can walk!” Taeyong says, extending both hands to his son. Youngchul grabs onto his father’s hands with his own and huffs, making the move to stand up on his own. Taeyong helps Youngchul a bit, helping him balance when the baby stands.

Doyoung claps from the side, “Wow! Youngchul look at you! You’re so big now!”

Doyoung counts “1...2...1...2…” repeatedly while the little baby marches on, hands in the supportive hands of his father. Youngchul giggles and smiles the entire way, liking this new form of travel.

“Oh, he’s so happy!” Doyoung says, holding his hands out now when Youngchul gets within distance. Taeyong lets go of Youngchul’s hands, letting the baby balance on his own. Doyoung holds his hands out on either side of Youngchul, getting ready to catch him when he loses balance. Taeyong counts the seconds in the background, seeing how long the wobbly baby can stand on two legs.

“...7...8...9…!” Youngchul makes it to 9 seconds before he falls, caught easily by his uncle. Doyoung tosses Youngchul in the air, bringing him down to kiss his cheek.

“Good job, Youngchul!” Doyoung cheers. Taeyong laughs from the side, beaming with pride over the accomplishments of his son. He feels a small slap from his leg, grabbing his attention. He looks down and sees Minyoung, this time with his arms up in the air.

“Huh? You want to do what Youngchul just did?” Taeyong asks.

“Ah!” Minyoung responds, holding up his arms.

“Has he tried to walk yet, Doyoung?” Taeyong asks, bringing Minyoung a little farther away from his dad so he could try to walk to him.

Doyoung shakes his head, placing Youngchul in his lap, “Minyoung can stand with the help of something, but anytime he tries to take a couple steps, he just falls and doesn’t want to try anymore.”

Taeyong nods, setting Minyoung down in a sitting position. “Well, let’s try with Uncle Taeyong, okay Minyoung?”

Placing both of the baby’s hands in his own, Taeyong helps Minyoung stand just like he helped Youngchul stand.

“Come to appa, Minyoung! Walk towards appa!” Doyoung cheers, clapping his hands at his son. Minyoung smiles and takes a step, supported by Taeyong. Doyoung cheers, trying to get his son to take steps towards him. Minyoung giggles and stomps over, walking towards his father with the help of his uncle. Youngchul claps from his uncle’s lap, excited off of the energy of the room. With a couple more wobbly steps, Minyoung makes it to his father, cheers erupting all throughout the room. Doyoung grabs his son and kisses his cheek, raining down praises.

“You did it, Minyoung!! You’re such a big boy now!” Doyoung cheers, holding his son in his arms now. “You must really like your Uncle Taeyong. You wouldn’t even do that with me or eomma.”

“No, don’t say that!” Taeyong laughs, sitting across from Doyoung.

“Should we conduct a test?” Doyoung asks in a playful tone.

“Ah!” Youngchul calls from Doyoung’s lap, responding for his father.

“I accept that answer.” Doyoung jokes, setting Minyoung on the mat. Doyoung picks up Youngchul in his arms and carefully stands up, placing the baby on the couch for now. Taeyong follows Doyoung as they go to the opposite side of the mat, sitting on the ground.

“Minyoung, who do you like more: Appa or Uncle Taeyong?” Doyoung asks. “If you like appa more, come and crawl towards appa! If you like Uncle more, go and crawl with him.”

Taeyong cheers from the side, trying to get Minyoung to notice him. Minyoung looks at his appa, then to his uncle, and places his hands on the ground and begins crawling.

“Minyoung! Come to Uncle! I’ll feed you something delicious!” Taeyong cheers.

“There’s no way my son can be swayed that easily,” Doyoung scoffs, “He knows where his loyalties lie. Minyoung, come to Appa!”

Minyoung stops in his tracks. This may seem like a hard decision to make, but Minyoung knows exactly where he’s going. Flashing one more smile, showing off his 4 growing teeth, he crawls to the person he loves most.

“I’m so confident you’ll come to Appa, I’ll close my eyes!” Doyoung jokes, shutting both of his eyes. He hears Minyoung’s giggles coming closer to him, opening his eyes so he can take his son into his arms…

“Oh? You like me? Thank you, Minyoung!” Taeyong’s giggles fill the room as he lifts up his best friend’s son, causing the baby to giggle.

Doyoung laughs, holding a hand to his heart in heartbreak, falling back. “Minyoung...How could you?”

Taeyong laughs and hugs Minyoung close, “Snacks win over love, every time.”

Doyoung shoots up, remembering the giggling baby boy on the couch. This is his chance!

“It’s no use, let’s try it with Youngchul now,” Doyoung stands up, determined to win this little competition.

“Doyoung, just because Minyoung came to me, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less! He’s probably just happy to see his uncle he hasn’t seen in a while.”

“Quiet.” Doyoung says, grabbing Youngchul and placing the baby on the ground.

“Let’s see who your son chooses,” Doyoung states, kneeling back in his spot, determination filling his features.

“Doyoung, I don’t want you to be too sad when my son chooses me,” Taeyong says, placing Minyoung on the ground next to him.

Doyoung chooses to ignore Taeyong’s remark and puts on an excited face, holding out his arms, “I know you like me more! Come to your uncle, Youngchul!”

Youngchul giggles and starts crawling on a straight path towards Doyoung.

“I don’t even think I need to get his attention. He’ll crawl towards me, watch.” Taeyong says, despite seeing his son clearly make his way towards Doyoung.

Doyoung continues to call Youngchul, cheering him on. Taeyong starts to get nervous when he realizes it doesn’t look like Youngchul will go to Taeyong willingly on his own.

“No, Youngchul! You’re going the wrong way. Come towards appa!” Taeyong’s voice fills with desperation now, trying to get his son’s attention. Youngchul doesn’t even acknowledge his father’s calls as he reaches Doyoung, giggling when Doyoung picks him up and cheers, happy that Youngchul chose him.

“Hey, that doesn’t mean anything!” Taeyong pouts.

Doyoung holds Youngchul close and looks towards Taeyong, “It doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, picking up Minyoung. “Look. I bet by the end of the day, Youngchul and Minyoung will choose me.”

Doyoung raises his eyebrows at his friend, “Is that a bet?”

Taeyong nods, “By the end of the day, if both Youngchul and Minyoung choose me, I win. If Youngchul and Minyoung choose you, you win. Loser has to watch both boys for an entire day. Deal?”

Doyoung takes Taeyong’s hand and shakes it, solidifying the little competition they have just established. Doyoung’s competitive nature rarely comes out, but now that he’s a dad now, his competitive side likes to come out more often.

Throughout the day, the two new dads do what they can to make the babies laugh, both trying to steal away as much time as possible. Doyoung dramatically acts out different fairy tales, Taeyong goes and cooks some yummy new homemade baby food for the two 8 month olds, both dads spending all of their energy both taking care of the two boys and trying to woo their hearts.

The day drags on as Doyoung and Taeyong bounce around the living room, baby carrier around their waists with their energetic babies strapped in. Doyoung plays soft lullabies in the background, gently humming them as he caresses Minyoung's head against his chest, trying to get his son to take a nap. Taeyong breathes in deep as he makes white noise for the babies, gently “shhh”-ing through his teeth, hugging Youngchul closer to his chest. Both Doyoung and Taeyong bounce in rhythm with each other, synchronized just like they are in their many dances.

Doyoung laughs quietly, looking towards his best friend and whispering, “You know, we’ve been idols for so many years. We’ve had countless days of dance practices and then some, but this is the most tired I’ve been in my entire life.”

“You’re right,” Taeyong laughs, “I never knew that such small beings can have so much energy.”

Doyoung laughs again, looking down to check his son. Minyoung’s cheek stays squished up against his father’s chest, his eyes becoming droopier by the second. Doyoung returns to humming the lullabies, slowing down his bounces ever so slightly. Taeyong also looks down to check on his son, turning his head to look into his son’s eyes. Youngchul’s eyes are closed now, his chubby hand curled into a fist as his breathing slows down, indicating that he’s falling deeper into sleep. Taeyong goes into the bedroom, gently placing Youngchul into the crib, carefully taking him out of the baby carrier. He holds his breath as he carefully moves away, holding onto the carrier so it wouldn’t bump into anything. Taeyong let out a soft sigh of relief when it was successful, carefully stepping to the side so Doyoung could place Minyoung inside of the crib as well. Going through the same nerve wracking process Taeyong went through, Doyoung successfully places Minyoung into the crib alongside Youngchul, both babies drifting off to a deep sleep. Taeyong and Doyoung quietly leave the room, Doyoung carefully closing the door.

Both dads head back into the living room, simultaneously collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. A couple minutes of silence passes between the two of them, both of them too tired to even talk.

“I just realized we haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Doyoung says from his spot on the couch, making no effort to go to the kitchen to make something for them to eat.

“Should we just order delivery?” Taeyong asks, sinking further down into the couch. His entire body felt like lead, his joints aching and screaming at him to never move ever again.

Doyoung takes a deep breath and puts all of his remaining energy into getting up from his spot to reach his phone he threw onto the couch hours ago. His soul leaves his body after he opens his phone, remembering that the one thing you told him to do is the one thing he forgot to do. He anxiously bites his lips as he checks the time, 3:23 PM.

He’s too late.

“Hyung,” Doyoung says, nudging Taeyong’s leg. “I’m so screwed.”

“What happened?” Taeyong says, groaning quietly as he sits up as well, looking at Doyoung’s phone.

“Y/N asked me to take Minyoung to get a haircut before 3:00 and I forgot,” Doyoung says, his eyes wide and heart beating quickly. “What do I do now? It’s past 3:00!”

Taeyong’s eyes fill with concern as well, trying to find a solution to Doyoung’s problem, “Do you think you can go somewhere else? Other places should still be open...”

Doyoung shakes his head, “Y/N’s friend works at that place and not only was she going to give the haircut for free, I also had to return a necklace Y/N borrowed from her.”

Both Doyoung and Taeyong fall silent as they try to come up with a solution to this problem. Doyoung really did screw up this time.

Doyoung gasps, causing Taeyong’s attention to go towards him, “I have an idea.”

Taeyong nods, indicating Doyoung to continue.

“I can quickly go over to the salon, drop off the necklace, explain to Y/N’s friend about the situation, then I can run home and cut Minyoung’s hair myself!”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Taeyong asks.

“There’s no other way, Hyung.” Doyoung says, already standing up and making his way back into the bedroom to grab the necklace you borrowed.

“I’ll grab food while I’m out, please take care of the boys for a bit. You know where everything is, right?” Doyoung asks, putting on a hat and grabbing his keys. Taeyong stands up and yawns, trying to keep up with his busy friend.

“I’ll manage. Keep me updated, though. When are the girls supposed to come back?” Taeyong asks as he follows Doyoung to the front door.

“Y/N said that they’re not coming back until 8:00 by earliest. Y/BF/N is also trying to choose a place for the rehearsal dinner tonight so they’ll be eating out, too.”

Taeyong nods, sticking his head out of the door, seeing Doyoung off.

“Good luck,” Taeyong says as Doyoung rushes off, making his way to the salon.

---

The front door opens as Doyoung makes his way back inside, a plastic bag full of food in his hands.

“How did it go?” Taeyong asks, quickly reaching over to grab the food from Doyoung’s hands as he removes his shoes.

“It went well, actually.” Doyoung replies, removing his hat. “She was actually really busy with the walk-ins that she also forgot that we were coming in. She said that Y/N never texted her to check if we went, so as far as I know, Y/N doesn’t know that we forgot.”

“Well, that’s good,” Taeyong says as they make their way to the dining table, taking out the food Doyoung brought back. Doyoung makes his way to the sink and washes his hands.

“She also taught me how to cut Minyoung’s hair, so everything should be fine. How did it go over here, though? Are the boys okay?” Doyoung asks as he dries his hands.

“They’ve been asleep the entire time. Minyoung woke up briefly but I just gave him a pacifier and he calmed right down and went to sleep. It’s almost as if my presence alone calmed him down.” Taeyong jokes, sitting down across from Doyoung. Doyoung rolls his eyes, his stomach rumbling at the smell of the food. Both Taeyong and Doyoung didn’t realize how hungry they’ve become.

Doyoung turns on their TV, putting on a random show that gently plays in the background. Both dads eat with vigor, eating as if this is the first meal they’ve had in a week. They both stuff their faces, not caring if they eat too quickly.

Once they finish off their meal and clean up, they make their way back into the living room, trying to get in a little bit of relaxation before the two babies wake up. Doyoung puts on videos of haircuts for infants on the TV, studying up before the real thing.

“I thought you knew how,” Taeyong says, watching the video on the screen as well.

Doyoung shakes his head, “I mean, the explanation she gave me was super quick and this is, quite frankly, the first time I’ve ever cut hair.”

“Don’t forget, the competition is still happening,” Taeyong says, “Just because you forgot to do the one task your wife asked you to do, doesn’t mean that I hold any sympathy. I will win.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Doyoung says, too tired to argue at this point.

Youngchul’s cry rings behind the closed bedroom door, both dads jumping into action.

“Did you wake up, Youngchul?” Taeyong asks, grabbing his son from the crib. Minyoung cries as well, being awakened by the cries of his friend.

“Minyoung, it’s okay, appa’s here!” Doyoung shushes his son, picking him up as well.

Both dads get back into it, changing their sons’ diapers, giving them both a quick refresher, some rice puffs as a little pick-me-up, all before it’s time.

Doyoung sighs from his spot on the ground, his hands shaking as he examines his son’s hair. Taeyong sits on the couch, Youngchul on his lap as they both watch Doyoung and Minyoung.

“Do you need any help?” Taeyong asks, just as nervous as Doyoung is.

Doyoung shakes his head, “I can’t get you roped into this as well.” Doyoung grabs the spray bottle from the side, spraying his son's hair with water and gently brushing it down.

“I can do it. If I deal with Haechan for more than 10 years, I can deal with this.”

Minyoung looks down at his toys, playing with a small, red, squishy fire truck that he places in his lap. A towel drapes his shoulders as Minyoung stays still, not making any sudden movements as his dad brushes his long hair.

“Okay, I’m going to cut now,” Doyoung says, his shaky hands reaching for the scissors. Taeyong puts a hand over his eyes and puts one around Youngchul’s as well, both boys too nervous to watch. Doyoung measures out his son’s long bangs with his index and middle finger before raising up the delicate hair he holds between his fingers. He grabs the scissors and takes a deep breath, holding it as he begins to cut.

Snip.

Minyoung’s hair falls around him, landing on the towel and ground. Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair in a straight line, remembering what your friend and the videos taught him. He takes the hair and textures it, cutting the hair vertically. Doyoung brushes it down to check the length.

“Oh no.” Doyoung says, brushing his son’s hair.

“What happened?” Taeyong asks, taking his hand away from his eyes. He looks down at Minyoung, trying to see the damage done.

“Oh no.” Taeyong says as well.

Minyoung’s bangs were definitely shorter. Instead of falling just to the middle of the forehead like it should have been, they fell well above it… well, at least, some parts of it. Doyoung was not careful when he was trying to texture the hair, cutting off big chunks of it causing Minyoung’s bangs to just look uneven.

“I mean, it looks trendy! The short bangs are the biggest trend for babies these days” Taeyong says, trying to find light in this situation. Doyoung frantically combs his son’s hair, trying to see if his mistakes look noticeable at different angles. Regardless of what he does, Minyoung’s hair just falls back to their place, showing off all of the uneven cuts.

“It’s not that bad, right?” Doyoung says, brushing his son’s hair again.

Taeyong shakes his head, “Minyoung’s hair has been cut! The instructions are now complete.”

Doyoung nods back, brushing off all of the cut hair from the towel and the ground. He grabs his son and places him next to Taeyong as he gets a broom to sweep up the hair, hiding the evidence.

Taeyong brushes Minyoung’s newly cut hair, doing all he can to hold back his laughter, “You’re so trendy, Minyoung!”

Doyoung sits back down after putting everything away, looking at his son again.

“It’s not that bad, I think?” Doyoung says. “Minyoung, look at me!”

Minyoung turns his head to look at his dad, his short, uneven bangs looking worse by the second.

Doyoung couldn’t hold it back anymore and lets out a hearty laugh, “I’m so sorry, Minyoung.”

Taeyong joins the laughter, “What were we thinking?”

Doyoung shakes his head, laughing, “It’s just hair. It will grow back. It’ll all be okay.”

He picks up his son, looking down into his big eyes. Minyoung looks up at his father and suddenly starts laughing, causing Doyoung to smile back.

“Oh? Are you happy, Minyoung?” Doyoung laughs with the biggest smile on his face. “We can actually see your handsome face now, Minyoung! You’ve never looked happier!”

Doyoung jumps up and bounces his son, trying to keep Minyoung laughing.

“Look at how happy you are, Minyoung!” Doyoung cheers, happiness evident in his voice. Minyoung seemingly assures him through his cheerful giggles that everything will be okay.

---

Towards the end of the day, Taeyong and Doyoung find themselves both on the ground again, Minyoung at the other side of the living room.

“Doyoung, just accept your defeat now,” Taeyong says, “You already messed up the haircut, it’s only fair that Minyoung will choose me.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, “If anything, he’s glad that he can see his appa now. He’ll come to me, watch.”

Minyoung sits on the ground, looking at his dad and his uncle at the other side of the room. Doyoung claps his hands together, showing his son the biggest smile out of desperation, calling out to Minyoung to come towards him. Taeyong does the same, bouncing up and down, trying to grab Minyoung’s attention.

“Snacks, Minyoung. Don’t forget the snacks!” Taeyong says.

“Minyoung, if you love your appa, come towards me!” Doyoung cheers, a slight tone of desperation apparent in his voice.

“Appa!” Minyoung says, the gummiest smile on his face. Minyoung gets on all fours and starts crawling, this time, not towards Taeyong, but towards Doyoung?

“Minyoung, I love you! You’re doing it!” Doyoung smiles, his expression getting happier by the second.

“Appa!” Minyoung says again, crawling even faster towards Doyoung until he ultimately reaches his father, giggles all throughout the air.

Doyoung tosses his son into the air, catching him and covering his faces with billions of kisses. “You’re so happy, aren’t you? You can see your appa now!”

Even though he lost, Taeyong laughs alongside his best friend, the happiness in the room too contagious to ignore.

“Alright, Youngchul, it’s your turn!” Doyoung says, standing up and walking towards the baby sitting on the couch. “Wow, I didn’t think Minyoung would actually come to me.”

“You seemed so confident, though, Doyoung.” Taeyong laughs.

Doyoung ignores Taeyong’s comment and places Youngchul on the ground, quickly rushing back next to Taeyong.

“Youngchul, my darling son, come towards appa! If you love appa, come to me!” Taeyong cheers, bouncing up and down just as he did for Minyoung.

Doyoung hits Taeyong’s arm, “Hey! Don’t steal my methods! Youngchul, come to your favorite uncle! If you come to me, we’ll win!”

Youngchul’s starry eyes look up from his spot at the other side of the living room. He looks up at his dad, smiling as he sees him bounce up and down like a crazy man. His eyes move to Doyoung, watching his uncle clap and give gummy smiles, happily cheering for Youngchul.

“Appa! Appa!” Youngchul cheers, moving onto all fours, attempting to crawl.

“Yes! I’m appa! Come to appa!” Taeyong says, doing his best to not jump towards his son.

Minyoung sits on the right side of his dad, shaking one of his toys proudly, trying to show as much excitement as the two dads in the room are. Youngchul’s attention is immediately grabbed by Minyoung and his rattling toy, causing him to change directions and head straight towards him.

“Are you coming towards me?” Doyoung says, shocked that Youngchul changed his mind from heading to Taeyong to heading more towards Doyoung.

“Ah!” Youngchul cheers, heading even faster towards Minyoung. He sits right in front of Minyoung, clapping his hands together in delight that he’s closer with his best friend. Minyoung claps too, accidentally giving the toy to Youngchul who now grabs the toy and shakes it himself.

“He went to Minyoung.” Doyoung says, looking at Taeyong.

“What does that mean?” Taeyong asks, trying to evaluate the situation.

“This was an unexpected outcome,” Doyoung gets up from his spot, “It’s only fair that I won since Minyoung actually came to me.”

“Okay, but the competition isn’t technically over! We didn’t make rules if Youngchul went to Minyoung.” Taeyong pouts, reaching over to wipe off the drool that leaks from his son’s smiley face.

“Just accept your defeat, Taeyong.”

“But I didn’t even lose! The game isn’t over!”

“The game is over! I have 2 points and you and Minyoung are tied for second place with 1 point each!”

“Minyoung doesn’t count!”

“You’re saying my son doesn’t count?”

“Okay, you know that’s not what I mean! I’m just saying that he wasn’t in the rules, so his point doesn’t count!”

“Look, you’re just being a sore loser… Just accept it!”

“But I didn’t lose! Let’s put Minyoung on the couch and try agai--”

“--We’re home!”

The front door unlocks as you walk in, Taeyong’s wife and your best friend trailing behind.

“Where’s my Youngchul?” T/W/N asks, quickly removing her shoes to rush inside as quickly as possible, running past you.

“Ma! Ma!” Youngchul cheers when he hears his mother’s voice. She walks towards the living room, gasping in excitement when she sees her baby.

“Peek-a-boo! There you are!” she smiles, completely ignoring her pouting husband and going over to pick up her son, raining kisses on his cheeks.

You trail behind her, equally as excited to see your son.

“Minyoung! Eomma’s home!” You cheer, gasping as well when you see your son, except, not quite from excitement.

“Welcome home, babe!” Doyoung jumps up and tries to hug you, attempting to distract you from the botched haircut that he hopes you didn’t see. You totally saw it.

You dodge his hug and grab your son, examining his unfortunate hair. “Minyoung! What happened to your hair? Why is it so short? Why is it so uneven?”

Taeyong and Doyoung both do their best to remove themselves from the situation, asking your best friend about the wedding dress as she heads inside, also noticing the botched haircut.

“Doyoung, what happened to Minyoung’s hair?” you ask, frantically brushing what’s left of Minyoung’s hair with your hands.

“Hm? Oh that? Well you see… what had happened was…” he begins, his eyes avoiding your’s.

“The truth, Doyoung.” you say, knowing well that he would have come up with a crazy story before finally telling the truth.

“Taeyong and I--”

“--wait, wait, wait. No,” Taeyong starts, “Don’t drag me in on this. If I knew, I would have reminded him. I sw-- OW!” His attempt at defending was cut short when his wife pinched his side.

“You still should have stopped him!” she scolds. Taeyong holds up two hands, planning to not chime in anymore.

Doyoung takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay. I was really busy and overwhelmed with taking care of the three babies--”

“--Wait. Three babies?”

“Taeyong.”

“Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Doyoung begins again, “I was so busy taking care of the babies that by the time I realized I forgot, it was too late, so I decided to do it myself. I returned the necklace! So don’t worry about th--”

“--You really think the necklace is my biggest concern right now? Our son looks like-- he looks like--” You say, doing your best to control your anger. You take a look at your son again, seeing the Doyoung mini-me look at you with the softest eyes. When Minyoung notices your eyes on his, he smiles, happy to see his mom after an entire day.

“He… actually looks kinda cute.” You say, your son’s contagious smile causes you to smile as well.

“I know, I know, I'm so sorr-- wait what? He looks what?” Doyoung says, shock prevalent in his voice.

“He actually does look cute!” Your best friend now chimes in, standing beside you and looking at Minyoung. “This style of hair is very trendy amongst babies. I mean, not this extreme, but still!”

Minyoung’s smiles knowing that your best friend is near. He smiles and leans towards her, wanting to be held by her.

“Oh? You wanna come to me?” she asks as she holds her out her hands and carefully takes your son into her arms. Minyoung is all smiles in her arms, happy to see her after a long time.

“He does look cute, now that I think about it,” Taeyong’s wife says, “Little Minyoung is so handsome, he can pull off any haircut!”

Doyoung and Taeyong look at each other, both awestruck by unexpected reactions they received. You and the girls all gush over the babies, bringing up how one of their favorite celebrity’s baby also has the same haircut.

“So… you’re not mad?” Doyoung asks gently, trying not to get you any angrier if you were.

“I’m not mad. Just next time… let’s leave the haircutting to the professionals, Doyoung.”

---

ahh and it’s done! i had so much fun writing this scenario!

i have more scenarios in the works including some return of the superman situations!

i hope you guys liked this one and let me know if you have any requests! my requests are open :)

let me know what you guys think!

- amy <3

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years

Note

hello!! i just wanna say that ur writing is absolutely incredible and honestly one of the best writers I've ever seen! Can you share any writers that you enjoy reading too? its hard finding writers that write stories lips you do :(( anyways i love your stories and i hope this motivates you more?? idk if this is motivating enough haha i just love your writing and i wanna see more TT ILY

Oh shoot, oh heck. It’s so late but I’ll try to put together a decent amount of list for ya! It’s a little difficult because I can get competitive and obscenely jealous of other writers’ skill so I do have the habit of not drinking from the same creek I dip my toes into, (idk if that’s an idiom or if it’s close enough to an idiom that already exists but it’s here now and you can’t stop it.) but I am trying to get over that because comparing your work is silly and it’s really only hinderance in the end.

okay so a LIST (in no particular order) (and these are for people who I am pretty certain are still active with writing for BNHA? If I’m wrong, lol I’m sorry? they’ve got content nonetheless!)

@bnhascribbles woof woof. This writer right here is relentless. She makes me!! FEEL things whether is be a disgusting amount of tooth rotting fluff or utter shock and heartbreak. Scribbles has the ability to shatter my world in one simple scene since she’s SO GREAT at conveying emotion, and I’m going to physically fight her someday. I should mention that when she writes angst, there’s a certain amount of finality to those scenarios, and it’s like offputting in a way that can make you become addicted to the hurt.

@perpetual-bed-head: HELLO! Reading her stuff is like taking a vacation. Instead of laying in bed suffering, I’m suddenly very much with my best boy and he’s making me feel good, and special, and cute! Cece puts a lot of work into her work and when lever I get the privilege of reading it, I’m always awestruck. There’s also always an odd amount of symbolism that goes into her work (let’s say, being a little too intimate with Midoriya, it’s hinted that at least the concept of All Might present as well, and that just has me ROFLing [do the kids still use ROFL? Idk. I’m not going to continue it but for Cece, it’s important]) her stuff is hot and cute at the same time which is muy importanté!

@bakugou-tm I think I’m always going to be a fool in love with this writer. Like no joke, if my love for Bakugou is ever straying, I’d really just have to go back to her page and be all “oh that’s right, he’s HOT!” She really has characterization down and that’s!!! So important! Seriously reading her work is exactly like a real life Bakugou dating sim and that really should be enough to get you there, bro.

@quirkfics just seriously incredible work and there’s an endless amount of content on there ama! This writer is VERY good a writing a scene with just the right amount of detail even if it’s just a shorter piece and every time they do, I’m BLOWN away! They also write NSFW work for gender neutral readers which is seriously admirable (I don’t know if some of the other artists ive mentioned do it do not, I just know that with quirkfics, it sticks out.)

@bluesimba AHHHH???!!!?? Ahhhhh???? Listen, okay, I don’t know if I have the right words to illustrate just how great their work is?? Detail is obviously important to me so when it comes to bluesimba’s writing it’s like??? God, the simplest thing (sitting at a table with Hawks while he tells you that he bought twitter simply because it’s a bird themed website for example) while using the right amount of elemental design seriously has me soft. I discovered them when I was free ling down and a friend sent me a few of their one shots to cheer me up and boy did that get the job done!!

@dee-madwriter ooooof. If you like unconventional scenarios as much as I do, you should definitely head to Dee’s page. Dee is a really great outside-of-the-box writer, and by that I mean, in her writing I see ideas that I’ve never even thought of before which is cool in itself and then adding that certain spicy element in there? Muy bien. Dee also writes for multiple fandoms (again, I’m not sure if the other artists ive mentioned do as well, but you know) so it’s nice to see that certain amount of flare in other mediums as well!

I’m gonna go to sleep and finish this in the morning

It’s the morning

@weebsinstash more unconditional scenarios but goodness gracious some of her stuff is exactly my cup of tea. Weeb writes for so many characters too and she has me eyeballing people I probably wouldn’t have to begin with if not for her.

@lady-bakuhoe honestly, I don’t even know what to say. She’s doing kinktober and as far as I know, they gotten most of not all days down so far, so you literally just gotta pop onto her page and see the magnificence for what it is, dood. It’s GOOD!

Kerrrrrffff I’m sorry if this is a short list. I know I’m a fan of other writers but Idk how active some of them are and I don’t?? Talk to very many people on here?? I’m a hermit crab... HIZZAHT!

#asks #anonymous #recomendation #other writers #im sorry if i wasnt great at ahhh talking them up #im a fool today and tomorrow and forevermore #pero these guys deserve RECOGNITION BRAH #HIZZAHT #recs

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penmansparadise · 5 years

Text

Steve Harrington Imagine Request- My Little Buddy

*I DO NOT OWN ANY GIFS POSTED* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNERS*

Hello everyone!! I promised an imagine and here it is! This was a request from like forever ago, like LAST YEAR (lol bad dad joke I know) that I finally had the chance to write. I apologize now for how long this imagine is lol I got a little carried away. Anyway, I mentioned some great songs, one is my all time favorite song like ever, can you guess which one?? I hope that you all enjoy it and feel free to send in requests or send in asks!! Xx.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Mild language

BEEP! BEEP! “Good morning Hawkins, Indiana! It is another beautiful August morning on this sunny Monday. What a way to start the week! Here to start off your day is Tears For Fears with their hit song, “Everyone Wants to Rule the World”.

You rolled over yawning and stretching out your limbs. The remnants of the heat from your husband was still present on the sheets next to you. A small smile pricked at the corners of your mouth as you let your fingertips graze the warm surface. As you lay there, your eyes lifted to see a picture from your wedding day standing proudly on the nightstand. A tingly feeling traveled from your toes to your pink cheeks. That was the day you officially became Mrs. Harrington.

You and Steve met in high school when you moved to Hawkins in 9th grade. He was the one who approached you. Being the new kid meant you had no friends which also meant you ate lunch alone. You sat by yourself, awkwardly eating your peanut butter and jelly sandwich, before Steve made his way over and confidently took a seat next to you. He gave you a toothy smile, complimented your Styx shirt, and the rest was history. Throughout the course of freshmen year, the two of you grew closer and closer. As friends at first, but slowly the tides began to turn. It started with lingering stares and shy smiles before progressing to soft “accidental” hand touches. The summer before sophomore year, Steve finally built up enough nerve to ask you to be his girlfriend to which you happily said “Yes”. The rest of high school went by in a blur as you and Steve did everything together. You went to every single one of his basketball games and he, begrudgingly, went to every single one of your debate matches. Midway through senior year, Steve surprised you with a beautiful promise ring. He slid it onto the finger that, today, holds your ravishing two carat diamond wedding ring. By the time the both of you graduated high school, you knew Steve was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Unsurprisingly enough, three days after your graduation, Steve got down on one knee, professed his love to you, and asked if you would marry him. With tears in your eyes and excitement in your heart, you said “Yes”. Fast forward three years later, you and Steve are still happily married. The two of you bought a house on the outskirts of Hawkins. Steve, after obtaining his bachelor’s degree, began working as a math teacher at Hawkins Middle School. You went straight into the work force after high school and started working at the local grocery store as the general manager. Simple living and the two of you couldn’t be happier.

You smiled as you chronicled your relationship in your head. Your eyes moved to the alarm clock sitting next to the picture and you nearly screamed.

“Shit.” You whispered under your breath as you quickly fumbled out of bed. Practically falling into the bathroom, you pulled on your khaki pants.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You said in aggravation as you yanked your forest green polo over your head. As you stood in the bathroom running a hair brush through your hair, you noticed the calendar hanging in your room. A big red star was drawn under last Monday’s date. You let yourself ponder over it for a moment, but quickly forgot about it when you realized you were already ten minutes late. Grabbing your purse and keys, you frantically made your way out the door and into your car before peeling out of your driveway.

Five minutes later, you pulled into the parking lot with a nagging feeling that you forgot something. You tried to push the feeling to the back of your head as you walked inside, but for some reason you couldn’t shake it.

“Good morning Mrs. Harrington!” One of the cashiers called as you walked past.

“Mornin’ Stacy.” You mumbled hardly loud enough for her to hear. When you reached your office, you plopped your body into the chair behind your desk. As your eyes took in all the papers scattered on your desk, they fell onto the calendar spread across the wood top. Just like the calendar at home, a large red star was present under last Monday’s date. A puzzled look played on your face when your co-worker, Suzanne, walked in.

“Jesus am I glad you’re here.” She huffed rolling her eyes before sitting herself on top of your desk. She began pulling at her cuticles as she continued speaking.

“Ugh,” she grunted, “this morning was insane. Brenda dropped a whole basket of tomatoes on the floor resulting in a huge mess; Gary apparently doesn’t know how to use his hands because he dropped some guy’s bottle of soda and shattered it right there in front of him; and to top it all off, the shipment didn’t come in today. Oh, and Shelly called out which means we’ll have to stock today.”

She finally lifted her eyes from her perfectly manicured fingers and noticed your distressed look.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked in confusion.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear it, but failed miserably.

“I don’t know. I just feel like I forgot something today. Something is just...missing.”

Suzanne gave you a sympathetic look, “I’m sure you’ll remember Y/N. And what better way to help you remember than stocking shelves?”

You chuckled before taking a basket full of items and wheeling it out onto the floor. You began opening boxes and let out a small laugh. Of course your immature co-worker was too embarrassed to stock the condoms and tampons. You hummed along to the radio quietly playing “Take On Me” by A-Ha as you stacked boxes of tampons on the shelf. Your movements were smooth and second nature. You began to lose yourself in the music when you stopped abruptly. Still holding a box of tampons, you took in a sharp breath suddenly remembering what was missing. Your eyes moved slowly to the box of tampons in your hand and you began to get nauseous. The red star on the calendar in your room, and the same haunting red start on your office calendar, signified something very important was missing. A voice from behind you pulled you out of your trance.

“You alright Y/N? You look a little pale.” Suzanne said as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You jumped back to reality scaring her a little. She stared at you waiting for you to explain. You shakily lifted the box of tampons:

“I know what was missing Suzanne.”

Suzanne gave you a questioning look, “Tampons? Why didn’t you say so? I have like a whole box in my purse.”

You shook your head furiously, “No Suzanne, my period! I’m late... a whole week late.”

Suzanne’s eyes widened, “Oh goodness Y/N. Hang on, stay here.”

She trotted off into the next aisle before coming back with a box of pregnancy tests. She handed you the box:

“Here.” She began, “Go home and take one of these. I’ll handle the rest of your shift.”

You took the box of tests, gave Suzanne a gracious smile and pulled her into a tight hug before heading home.

Driving home was as if you were on autopilot. Your mind was reeling and not at all focused on the road. When you pulled into your driveway, you were happy to see that Steve was still at work. You quickly ran inside, threw your belongings haphazardly onto the coffee table, and made your way to your bathroom. With your hands shaking, you opened the box of tests and took one. You had to wait ten minutes before the results would show, so you placed the test on the counter and sat down on the bathroom floor. Your knee jumped up and down in anticipation. The clock hanging in your room ticked loudly with every passing minute making your anxiety build even more. When the tenth minute finally passed, you wearily stood up and took the test into your hands. Two bold blue lines appeared in the tiny gray window. You let out a breath as you brought your hand to your mouth.

“I’m pregnant.” You said quietly to yourself.

Because you were trying to process the news, you didn’t even hear the front door open and close.

“Y/N? What are you doing home so early baby? You usually don’t get home for at least another hour or so.” Steve shouted from the other room. You didn’t say anything as you could hear his footsteps getting closer. You heard him come to a stop in the open bathroom door.

“Honey? You alright?” He asked, his voice laced with concern. Your hand was still resting on your face and the test still in your hand as you slowly turned to face him. Steve saw your face and quickly moved to you. His hands immediately grabbed your waist.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked moving one hand to wipe away tears you hadn’t realized had fallen down your cheeks. As he moved his hand back down your back, he noticed the test in your hand. He gave you a confused look:

“What is that?” He asked quietly.

You sniffled:

“I’m a week late Steve.”

Steve cocked his head to the side trying to understand what you were telling him. A small smile curled the corners of your lips:

“This is a pregnancy test and I have the results already.” You said turning the stick to show Steve the two blue lines. Still, Steve was oblivious to what you were saying. You chuckled at his oblivion:

“Steve, I’m pregnant!” You said pointing to the two blue lines for emphasis. Steve’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped before he pulled you into a tight hug. You let out a little yelp when he lifted you off the ground and began to spin you around.

“You’re pregnant!? I’m gonna be a dad!? Finally! Oh my gosh Y/N this is great!” Steve shouted before placing you back down on your feet. Tears sprang to your eyes when he got down on his knees and gently placed his hands on your tummy. He lifted your shirt and placed a soft kiss on your bare skin sending chills up your spine.

“I’m so glad you’re here and I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy loves you so much already.” Steve whispered quietly to your belly before leaving one more soft kiss.

It wasn’t long after that day when you began to get a bump. It was small at first, but soon grew bigger and bigger. Everyday tasks that were once easy started to become tiring quests. Getting out of bed was no longer a graceful and swift movement. Instead, with your growing baby bump, getting out of bed became a struggle to make sure your feet were stable before pulling yourself up. Putting your shoes on was no longer as simple as slipping them on. Instead, with your new larger tummy, putting your shoes on became a series of jumps and stomps before the shoes finally slid onto your swollen feet. Being pregnant was a lot harder than you expected. However, luckily for you, you had Steve by your side the whole time.

Steve, unsurprisingly, was the husband every pregnant woman wanted. When he saw you struggling to roll out of bed, he would gently place a hand on your back and help push you up. When he saw you having troubles putting on your shoes, he would get down on his knees and swiftly slide them onto your feet. Steve was always asking if you needed anything and was constantly telling you to sit down. Every day Steve would talk to your belly as if the baby were sitting in front of him. Every night he would kiss you goodnight and tell you he loves you before leaning down and doing the same to your tummy. His adoration shined proudly on his face when he smiled at you. His excitement radiated off of him when he would talk about his soon-to-be-child.

Steve went to every doctor’s appointment with you sitting next to the bed holding onto your hand tightly. He nearly jumped out of his chair when the doctor said you were having a boy. That night Steve rambled on and on about everything he was going to teach him:

“I’m gonna teach him now to play basketball and throw the football with him. I’m gonna teach him how to treat a woman right, we aren’t going to have a jerky kid. I’m gonna help him with his math homework and teach him everything I know.” Steve exclaimed to you as he lay next to you that night caressing your large baby bump.

Steve happily went shopping with you when the months turned into days until your baby would be arriving. He even gave his opinion about clothes to get him:

“We have to buy the plaid because if he’s anything like me, he looks pretty decent in plaid. But, if he’s anything like you, he’ll look absolutely adorable in it. It’s a must.” Steve said throwing a plaid onesie into your basket.

Day’s were turning into hours as you and Steve completed your baby’s room. A crib in the corner, a rocking chair next to it, and a changing table stocked full with diapers, creams, and wipes. Your heart would flutter anytime you walked by the room on your way to yours and Steve’s room. That night, you did your best to cuddle into Steve’s side and smiled.

“He’ll be here soon, you know?” You asked into the dark room.

Steve gave you a squeeze:

“I know. I can’t wait.”

“You’re not nervous?” You asked.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “maybe a little, but I’m more excited.”

You smiled to yourself:

“Have you been thinking of names?”

“I have and I have one picked out. It’s perfect.”

You propped your head on your hand and looked at his outlined silhouette:

“And what is that?”

Steve turned to you and you could just barely see a wide grin playing on his lips:

“Dustin.”

Your heart skipped a beat as tears sprang to your eyes:

“Why is that the perfect name?” You tried to ask with a steady voice.

Steve sighed contently:

“Because,” he began, “Dustin is the second most important person in my life. He is a friend, a brother, and I want to name my son after someone special.”

You quickly wiped away a stray tear before cheekily saying:

“Our son.”

“Right.” Steve chuckled, “Our son.”

The next morning as you were attempting to roll out of bed, it happened. You were pulling yourself up to go to the bathroom, when your night gown and the sheets beneath you became wet. Suddenly a sharp pain emanated from your lower abdomen. You let out a loud shriek:

“Holy shit Steve!”

Steve slowly rolled over and yawned.

“Sorry, I ate at Mario’s yesterday for lunch.” Steve said groggily. Another stab came and your hand flew to your stomach as you took in a sharp breath.

“What!?” You shouted in annoyance, “No Steve, my water just broke and I’m having contractions!”

Steve sat up so quickly he nearly fell out of the bed.

“What!? Oh God, okay let’s get you up and ready to go to the hospital.”

Steve sprang into action quickly helping you out of bed and into some street clothes. He led you to the car and helped you into the passenger seat before going back inside to grab the hospital bag you had prepped the week prior. The entire car ride Steve was constantly asking if you were okay and your only reply was a groan and a head nod. Steve sped through Hawkins running every red light and stop sign until he arrived at the hospital. He jumped out and ran to the passenger side helping you out as gently as he could. Although he said he wasn’t nervous, you could see his hands shaking when he grabbed the bag from the trunk. The nurses quickly sat you in a wheel chair and rushed you down the hall into a room. Everything was happening so fast your vision was starting to blur. The contractions were two minutes apart and as you were groaning in pain, nurses were swiftly attaching wires to you.

“You’ll only feel a little pinch, okay? Everything is going to be just fine.” You heard through all the cacophony. A small pinch and burning sensation came from your hand as a nurse hooked you up to an IV. You moaned in pain:

“Somebody please help me. This baby needs to come out!”

Metal clinked against metal as doctors and nurses arranged their tools. You began to cry from the pain and loudness of the room.

“Where is the doctor!? I need a morphine or something, please!”

Beep. Beep. Beep. An incessant beeping was chirping in your ear as the pain continued. Your vision was blurry from your tears and the sweat that was beading on your forehead. Your breathing felt shallow from the discomfort you were feeling. Your mind was moving a mile a minute and confusion began to set in when a familiar and comforting hand landed on your shoulder. Finally, it felt like you could breathe again. You looked up and there he was, like an angel coming down from heaven, starring down at you with pure affection.

“How are you feeling baby? It’s almost time, the doctor says your dilated to seven centimeters, whatever that means.” Steve said with a small chuckle. You gave him a weak smile before letting out an agonizing groan. The lights were so bright, you felt like a deer in the headlights. You could hardly see anything and it felt like it was at least 95 degrees in the room. Your breathing began to quicken as another contraction came. You felt Steve take your hand in his.

“It’s time baby. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He said, his voice floating gracefully over all the noise. You nodded when you heard a clear deep voice come from the foot of the hospital bed:

“Okay Mrs. Harrington, it’s time. I’m gonna need you to give me a big push, okay? One big push and we’ll take a break.”

You took in a couple of small breaths before giving a big push. A loud groan emitted from you through gritted teeth. Sweat and tears mixed on your cheeks as you gave another push accompanied by a shriek of pain. You could hear the doctor and nurses coaching you, but the clearest voice was right next to you. Steve, quietly and soothingly, spoke directly into your ear:

“You’ve got this baby. Only a little more, okay? I know it’s painful, but it’ll be so worth it when you get to hold our little Dustin in your arms.”

You let out a cry and gave one last push before you could hear the wailing of your son. A sigh of relief escaped you as you looked to Steve who had tears pooling in his eyes and a look of pure joy on his face.

“Would you like to hold your son Mrs. Harrington?” The doctor asked you. You nodded before the doctor handed you your swaddled and howling son. Tears of joy began to spill over as you wrapped your arms around your baby. When he nestled into you, his crying stopped, his breathing grew steady, and his tiny little eyes starred at you in wonder. You smiled through your tears:

“Hi baby. Are you better now that mommy’s holding you?” You asked the curious child. You looked to Steve who was simply watching his son cuddle you.

“Do you want to hold him?” You asked Steve. Your question caught him off guard, but he smiled and nodded. You carefully handed the baby to Steve and began to tear up again as you watched your husband snuggle his son. Steve wiggled his finger in front of the baby’s face until he gently grabbed it. He placed a soft kiss on his son’s head:

“Hey Dustin, I’m your daddy. You don’t know it yet, but we’re going to be best friends. I love you so much my little buddy. Mommy and daddy love you so so much.”

Your lips curled up as you continued to watch Steve coo and snuggle your baby. Steve may not have known it then, but that was the beginning of a wonderful father-son relationship.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 2 fanfiction #stranger things season 2 fanfic #stranger things season 2 imagines #stranger things season 2 imagine

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gontagokuhara · 5 years

Note

you should tell us abt ur fangan kids!

ive been meaning to answer this but itz long so i wanted to put it under a cut!!

hibiki (he/they) is the ultimate demolitionist! i cant draw but his design and whole aesthetic is literally just. minecraft creepercore. they’re 4′10″, they wear full-eye black contacts bc Crepper Aesthetic, and he just. likes to blow shit up. he’s the rival in my group killing game and i love him SO much

yuri (he/him) is 100% my kinnie oc as the ultimate camp counselor. despite being very good at what he does (duh), he hates it. the responsibility of having to maintain the fun and safety of a bunch of kids is shaving years off his lifespan. and, amazingly for him, he immediately gets assigned Group Dad against his will during the killing game. he also carries at least four fanny packs at all times, each containing snacks and capri suns, first aid supplies, arts and craft supplies, and a fucking tazer (which he usually threatens to use against hibiki).

kimi (she/her) is the ultimate candy maker! her entire aesthetic is cotton candy, in which her hair is dyed blue and pink, she likes soft, puffy clothing, and she’s just a really sweet (ha) person in general! she gets along with most all of her classmates bar a few. she has lesbian disease also

miyah (she/her) is the ultimate witch, which sounds really cool, until she opens her mouth and you realize she’s the crystal-wielding, essential oil-drinking, anti vax queen you were warned about. she’s very sweet and very soft spoken, and genuinely tries to be kind to everyone, but she’s very much a you love her or hate her kind of personality.

koya (they/them) is the ultimate swashbuckler! swashbucklers are a hero archetype defined by flamboyant movement, sword-wielding, chivalry, and daring adventures. koya is a sea-faring spirit, and they fill their time in the killing game enthralling the others with stories of grandeur and convincing all of their classmates that they are a legit pirate. koya is a liar, they exaggerate…a lot, but their intentions are not malicious and their tales just come out a bit more romantic than they actually happened. they’re very charming and laid back, and they’re definitely the sort of heartthrob character that everyone wants to smooch.

chieko (they/them) is the ultimate girl gang leader, and they are also ultimate lesbian. they’re sort of isolated from the rest of the group due to their talent being considered scary, and their very intense and intimidating appearance and personality. they’re major concern is to escape the killing game and find their way back to their girls (they say as much, which makes everyone VERY suspicious!) but they wouldnt hurt anyone and they end up becoming best friends with yuri and masako (who i’ve lovingly dubbed the parent squad of this class)

speaking of masako (she/they), she is the ultimate investigative journalist, and this killing game’s trial helper! she is very well traveled, and takes what she does very seriously. they are completely and utterly devoted to the truth, good or bad, they will find the truth. they absolutely detest koya for this reason; even little lies absolutely grind masako’s gears. she also is very distrustful, and she doesn’t trust anyone at the onset of the killing game. it takes her a long time to warm up enough to the protag to share her findings during investigations, and she often comes across as somewhat of a rival during trials due to her critical nature and the way she very blatantly does not trust those around her. nevertheless, later on she is (against her will) forced into the Parent Squad with chieko and yuri, and though she doesn’t trust anyone else, she will do everything in her power to keep more killings from happening.

daichi (he/him) is the ultimate superhero, and he was the first dr oc i actually made!! he’s very much a pretty boy (fluffy blonde hair, pink eyes, freckles, he’s just Cute) and he and hibiki start dating during the killing game! he’s sort of a bastard and won’t give anyone a straight answer on what his superpowers actually are, but despite his kind, cheeky nature, he feels a deep sense of responsibility and guilt over not being able to do anything about the killing game. he is one of the more likely people to go snooping for the mastermind, and he’s gotten in physical fights more than once with people he deems suspicious.

hirohito (he/him) is the ultimate joggler and he’s the greatest character of all time. what is joggling, you ask? don’t worry, he’ll tell you. i came across this while looking for talent ideas, and i laughed so hard i cried when i conceptualized this fiend. he’s very much the token joke character, he’s a hot head, and he’s kind of a dick, but the idea of hope’s peak allowing the ultimate person who can juggle and jog at the same time into their doors is just too hilarious to pass up. protag joggler 4 life

speaking of people who are kind of dicks, meet yuuto (he/him), the ultimate dancer. he’s such a hot head. he hates the most of his classmates out of any other character, including the mastermind. he’s dating the protag, who is one of like…four people he actually likes in his class. yuuto takes his talent very seriously, and spends hours every day working to maintain his status as the best of the best. his talent comes before everything else (or, at least, it did), but if his talent comes first, then the people he cares about take up every other place on the list. he doesn’t tolerate many people, but those he does, he is fiercely loyal towards. he would kill and die for the people he cares about. he is 5′2″ of pure kickass, and he will throw everything he has into defending the people he loves. i lvoe him.

michiko (she/her) is the ultimate influencer (yeah. i know). she’s an internet personality who has followings on instagram, twitter, youtube, tiktok, et cetera. she is also one of my earlier oc designs, and i’m kind of attached to her lol. she’s very naturally magnetic and has a lot of friends among her classmates, but she does have a tendency to get hung up on things like follower counts, conventional beauty, and wealth. she has a huge (mutual!) crush on koya, she’s best friends with hibiki, and she has an intense fear of swimming pools (her hair is dyed, and chlorine is way bad for dyed hair)

leeanne (she/her) is the only non-japanese character, and i. she’s a mess. she’s the ultimate theatre kid, and she’s basically every broadway tumblr user when h*milton was super popular. she complains about musical bootlegs, becries her classmates for not knowing anything about the musicals she stans, and she’s just. lord. obviously she’s a joke character, and she’s honestly a caricature of the kind of shit i got up to (to a degree! don’t call me out sdkjdsjbd) when i was 15 years old. suffice to say, none of her classmates like her very much

tomoya (he/him) is the obligatory ultimate ???, and also our trial ruiner! he earns the distrust of his entire class by keeping his talent a secret and then having it revealed by masako, and as a result he is very outcasted and lonely among his peers. he’s a naturally very reserved person, and his situation lends him to feeling very lonely. most of the class suspect him to be the mastermind – whether they’re right or not, only time will tell.

katsumi (she/her) is 1/3 of what i’ve dubbed the Showbiz Squad as the ultimate pageant queen! she’s been participating in and winning beauty pageants since she was very young, and she’s won all the way up through the pageant ranks. as one would expect she’s very beautiful, and she’s also very bright and charismatic, which lends itself well to gaining allies in the killing game. she is by and large very fake, though, and she operates as a mini antagonist for various reasons.

hikaru (he/him) is another third of the Showbiz Squad, as the ultimate game show host! he’s very ostentatious and charismatic; he’s always ‘on,’ always playing the gracious, enthusiastic host. there’s always a smile and a flashy, charming quip in his mouth, so he can wear very gratingly on the less enthusiastic and personable kids. he definitely would be a tumblr sexyman if he were an actual dr character {sweating emoji]. despite the crowd he seems to gather wherever he goes, no one knows much about him; and he likes to keep it that way.

and finally, the last third of the Showbiz Squad, and also the protagonist: hachi (he/they), the ultimate child star! as their talent would indicate, hachi was a child star, and he absolutely detests the showbusiness world as a result. he really dislike pretty much…everyone who represents that part of his past (katsumi, hikaru, and michiko are prime examples) and his least favorite thing is getting the question: “omg where you in ___?” they’re very emotionally and physically fatigued by all the bullshit going on around them, so they come across as fairly apathetic to most people. but in actuality, hachi is someone who craves stability and kindness, and their extremely blunt, extremely annoyed exterior hides a very soft, compassionate interior. i absolutely adore this character :D

and umm thats it for my kids! i (for the most part?) have all of the killers/victims worked out, i have my mastermind all planned, but i’m still working on a setting/obligatory extra mono-creature/how this group falls within the dr canon. i love talking about these guys so if ur interest in them pwease send me asks/messages about them 🥺

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heoneyology · 5 years

Text

Desire: Ch.2

A/N: This was a long time coming, lol, I apologize!! Things escalated rather quickly between these two... they’ve got a bit of a history they need to clear up.

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: action, angst, romance, outlaw!au

Word Count: 2047

Summary: Years ago, Kim Hongjoong took something important from you. Years of patience with a heavy grudge on your heart, you carefully construct a plan that you’ve already set into motion. With a series of events, you plan to exact your revenge on him and return the painful favor from years ago. What you don’t plan for, however, is your heart’s desire ultimately waging a war against you as he intricately weaves himself back into your life—and you find yourself matched up against a rival who is already ten steps ahead.

He stays unflinching, eyes directed straight ahead and muscles tensed, but poised for action. No matter how many times this situation might repeat itself, Hongjoong knows better than to test the waters of whether he can get out alive or not. He enjoyed danger, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t have a death wish. Despite himself, however, he can feel the corners of his mouth twitching as a smirk plays along at the edges. “This isn’t quite the homecoming I had in mind,” he mused aloud.

“This isn’t your home.”

“Really, now?” Hongjoong frowns in thought. “I’m fairly certain the deed to the land is in my name.”

Against his temple, he feels the gun quiver in reaction to his statement. It’s exactly what he wants, of course. He knows what these words mean to her and how deeply they cut her. He knows what he’s done, even if she doesn’t see it the same way—and how deeply that cuts her. In her eyes, he’s a traitor and nothing more. Someone who abandoned her and his own morals.

He waits, and there’s no reaction. Just the muzzle against his temple as she drowns in her torment.

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows, tilting his head down just a fraction as he considers his options. Calculating. It’s just the reaction he needs from her. That single moment of hesitation—

Faster than a snake striking, Hongjoong’s hand darts upward to snatch the wrist that holds the gun, quickly slamming it against the door frame where her hand hovers and knocking her grip of the revolver. There’s a yelp of pain paired with the thud as the gun hits the floor. As he moves swiftly and his surroundings fade around him, both become background noises that seems distant. In a fluid motion, Hongjoong pulls her arm, twisting and spinning her around.

All in a mere matter of moments, you find yourself pressed up against the wall, Hongjoong’s lithe frame pinning you there. Your wrist throbs wildly in pain, and your shoulder screams at you from the strain of Hongjoong’s armlock. You grit your teeth against the discomfort. He hadn’t been gentle in the slightest.

“What have I always told you about letting your emotions get in the way?” His voice is low, breath tickling against your ear. There’s a hint of danger dancing through the words. Both send a shiver down your spine.

Of course, he’s right. He almost always is. If you hadn’t hesitated in that moment, allowed your shock and anger to overcome you from that bold statement, you wouldn’t be in your current predicament. Things would still be in your favor, rather than his. You hated the fact that, even after all these years, he still had the upper hand.

That’s about to change, though, you remind yourself, just be patient.

Feeling him shift slightly to lean back, you turn as much as the space given between you will allow, glancing over your shoulder. Without answering, you glare at him.

There’s a smirk on his face, paired with an all too familiar set of raised eyebrows, smug written all over his expression. Hongjoong’s eyes flicker briefly, his smirk settling into a smaller smile.

“Ah, you’re still just as pretty as ever when you’re glaring at me,” to your annoyance, Hongjoong’s voice comes out lighthearted and teasing.

Thousands of memories from childhood come flooding back to you—that smirk, his telltale smug expression, the way his light eyes smoldered when he was up to no good. His constant teasing and banter, the countless laughs and his heartwarming, dopey grin. Unwelcome memories that you didn’t need right now. You didn’t need a distraction at that moment, let alone one caused by him.

With an exasperated grunt, you push the memories away and simultaneously push away from the wall, shoving your back into Hongjoong’s chest. He releases you almost instantly, having not been putting much effort into keeping you subdued. Considering you’d just been holding a gun to his head, intentions to shoot or not, you find it slightly surprising he hadn’t been putting in more effort.

But, Kim Hongjoong was notorious for playing things off and not taking situations seriously. In an ironic sort of way, he was rather gracious about his arrogance.

Despite as much, you take note that as he takes a step away from you—he gives enough space to clear himself of you possibly lashing out at him, something you’d very much like to do. With his step, he conveniently kicks the discarded revolver out the door. It’s kicked with enough force that you watch as it slides across the deck, before landing in the dirt outside.

He notes your gaze, and gives a tiny shrug. “Precautions.”

Notoriously overconfident and smug—but not stupid. Never stupid.

“What are you doing here?” You snap. Part of your irritability comes from the pain coursing through the entirety of your right arm, the other part from the unwelcome memories.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Hongjoong crossed his arms in front of him, meeting your glare with a level gaze. “You’re the one that left quite an obvious trail of bodies back in New Mexico’s badlands. Are you saying you didn’t want me to find you?’

While it had been quite dramatic, he was right. Again. When you’d decided it was time to put your desire for revenge into motion, you had needed to catch his attention, without drawing too much attention. You’d done the one thing you knew how to do—the one thing you were certain he’d recognize.

It was your mark to rob stagecoaches, burn after looting, and dismember the men of their ring finger. Then, you left them propped up against the burnt remnants of their belongings, before disappearing. While it was most definitely something you were infamous for—it was a blatant attack towards Hongjoong. He was aware of it.

A part of you had gotten lucky, of course. You’d only heard that the ATEEZ gang had been hanging around New Mexico as their latest source for cover. Grabbing his attention and leading him all the way back to Arizona had been another matter entirely. Word traveled slow when you were on the run. You hadn’t actually been certain how dated or recent the news of the gang had been until you’d caught a hint of Hongjoong on your trail.

As you think, Hongjoong watches you carefully. You attempt to not react to his burning gaze. There’s an intensity that surrounds him that, even in your youth, had always intimidated you. You refuse to buckle beneath it now, but you find it difficult to do so. Even after so much time has passed, he can read you easily.

“I thought so.” He’s matter-of-fact in his statement, though to your surprise he suddenly unfolds his arms and takes a step towards you.

At his proximity, you find yourself tensing, stiffening further as he reaches down to claim the wrist of your throbbing arm. You flinch as he lifts it, looking the back of your hand over.

“Hm,” Hongjoong tilts his head to the side, “that was a bit rude of me.”

You aren’t sure what he means until you glance down at your hand, just as his thumb grazes over the back of your wrist with a feather-light touch. Even so, it causes you to flinch again, and you attempt to jerk your hand back from his grip—one that’s firm and unrelenting, and doesn’t release you.

On the back of your wrist is a series of scrapes, some a bit deeper than the other, from where Hongjoong had knocked your hand against the aged, splintered wood of the door frame. You hadn’t realized that the throbbing pain wasn’t just from the bruise probably forming due to the force of his hit, and the strain he’d put on the muscles in your arm—but also because you were, to an extent, actually injured.

Hongjoong had a watchful eye for everything. No wonder he’d been melting you down with the intense stare moments before. You’d thought he had been gauging you for a reaction, but he’d been looking you over. Every little detail, matching everything up with previous memories and piecing together years apart.

“I’ve got a knife in my saddlebag. I can clean out the splinters,” Hongjoong states, letting go of your hand.

You pull your hand back to yourself sharply, about to turn down his offer with an even sharper tongue, before an idea passes through your mind.

Relenting, you purse your lips instead. “Fine. It’s the least you can do.”

Hongjoong tsks, “No need to be so haughty.” He nods, though, glancing around the old house once more before he turns his back to you and begins out the door. “Come on.”

You follow, albeit a bit more slowly. “Hongjoong.”

He pauses in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re following. As you’d hoped, from his body language you can tell his guard is down.

“You’re in the town of Sundown right now, right?”

Something flashes through his eyes—a guardedness. You remind yourself to be careful, your heart suddenly pounding very loudly in your chest as worry passes through you.

“Yes,” he answers, his voice careful and smooth. He studies you for a moment longer than necessary, before he turns away from you.

A small breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding escaped from your lips.

You follow after him. With his back to you as he crossed the yard, back towards his horse, you swiftly and quietly swoop down to reclaim the revolver from the ground. Carefully, you hold it at your side as you walk, staring at Hongjoong’s back intently as you follow him.

Just before he reaches the fence where his horse is tied, you speak up again.

“Do you know why Sundown is the perfect name?” The words spill from your mouth with an urgency, suddenly anxious over your next actions. “When the sun goes down, the outline of the town blends with the sunset. From a distance, you can almost see through the windows of certain buildings, and the town is on fire—”

When you had retrieved the gun from the ground, you’d picked it up backwards. In your hand, you gripped the barrel so hard your skin was spread thin over you knuckles, turning white.

“—I hope you know how to put out a fire, Hongjoong,” you declared. Just as you finished your warning, Hongjoong sensed the danger and spun on his heel to face you. But just as he did so, you lurched forward, lifting the gun high in the air. As he turned, the grip of your gun connected with the side of his face—knocking him out clean.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened in shock, his hazel-green pupils connecting with yours. It was slow motion. You witnessed a multitude of emotions flicker through his eyes. Surprise. Realization. Anger.

Anger.

Your heart pummeled within the cavity of your chest. Hongjoong’s anger was one to be reckoned with. And was he going to be pissed when he woke up.

The slow motion scene didn’t last very long. Consciousness escaped him, and Hongjoong collapsed to the ground, a small cloud of dust rising in the air as he connected with the ground and his black hat falling from his head as his body slumped. For a moment, you stood there frozen—the gun still held in your hand and outstretched in front of you. To your surprise, your hand was quivering.

It wasn’t as if you had actually shot him. You’d knocked out people before, punched people before. There was a difference, however, in doing such a thing to Kim Hongjoong. You let out a shaky breath, staring down at Hongjoong’s unconscious form.

“Let’s race, Hongjoongie. For old time’s sake.”

And with that, you set into motion, your actions still a bit shaky and your right arm still sore. Turning the gun around in your grasp, you returned it to the holster at your hip and turned on your heel—away from the unconscious man from your past and back toward the abandoned home of both of your pasts. Leaving Hongjoong behind, you ran off around to the back of the house to collect your things and your horse.

To ride to the town of Sundown.

#ateez fanfic #ateez fanfics #hongjoong fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #ateez outlaw #m.writes #m.dsr

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