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kaigarax · 1 year

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To My First Love

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Quote: “Fall in love with someone when you’re with them.”

Oikawa falls in love like the ending of a song. His journey tells tales of perseverance, heartbreak and adventure. And at the end, despite all melancholy and anticipation, he finally allows himself to fall into what he has always known will come.

---

“And oh, what a beautiful contradiction falling in love was.”

Oikawa made a face, “that’s so cheesy, (Y/n).”

You laughed, putting the book down and looking towards Oikawa who was now sprawled across his bed, “and what do you think love is, Mr. Heartbreaker?”

Oikawa is certain you expect some snooty and half assed response. It’s almost exactly what he would have given you if he had been but a few years younger. Now, he ponders for a brief while before smiling while thinking back to his own experiences with the strange phenomenon known as love.

He thinks he shall impart some of his wisdom, be it a small amount, onto you.

“Well, love is pure and kind. It’s giving your everything to someone else without reservations and not expecting anything in return.” Oikawa turned to look at you before a flush coloured his face, “if that makes sense.”

Perhaps his explanation was a little too… in depth? He knows you haven’t had much experience with romantic relationships (none at all) so he isn’t sure if the concept will appear cohesive or alien to you.

“Yeah, it makes sense.” you reply. Oikawa lets out a small sigh of relief (because he won’t have to elaborate further) while you plop down beside him, “so tell me about her.”

“Her?”

“Well, from the way you spoke about it, I can definitely tell there’s someone you’ve been in love with. I just assumed it was a girl with all the girlfriends you’ve had.” you gave the setter a shrug, “but no judgement from me if it’s a guy.”

Oikawa gave you a light shove, “come on.”

“What? Iwaizumi is a pretty good looking guy and the two of you are pretty close~”

“(Y/n).”

“Alright, alright!” You laughed, “so tell me about your first love.”

---

The rallies of the game had been long and the anticipation of the audience only seemed to be rising. Oikawa’s nerves from the beginning of the game have long evaporated, replaced with watered down gatorade and exhaustion.

He’s sweaty, tired and sore. All he wants to do after this match is take a long shower.

This game is tiring.

This game is dragging out.

And this game is paradise.

This is where Oikawa Tooru wants to be for the rest of his life.

The world seems to move differently as he makes his way to the right spot (just exactly at two and a half) just as he has done so many times before.

All his blood, sweat and tears have narrowed down to this single moment. Everything here will determine if he is worthy of his position or if he will be cast down from paradise.

And as the ball touches his fingers Oikawa thinks to himself that there will never be anything in the world that can rival this feeling he feels while in the midst of a game. That there is no other thing in this world that can make him feel so flustered and brave at the same time. He thinks that if there is only one wish he could ever make then this is it.

He wants to experience this exact moment over and over again.

Even as his teammate stumbles to hit the perfect set Oikawa knows that this is it.

That he has reached the pinnacle of his life’s meaning and there will never be anything more.

Of course, like all young and naive children, Oikawa doesn't understand just how fast the euphoria and dopamine come crashing down. It hits harder than a spike to the face as the ball falls from the net to the ground.

He did everything he could, and still it wasn’t enough.

Many adults will find it difficult to comprehend the complexities of a child’s emotions. Especially when contrasted with the simplicity of a child’s mind. The height from which Oikawa had fallen was one he might never recover from. Truly it was such a shame that the match had gone this way.

Oikawa is in every way a loser.

A failure.

His mother and father will not have the words to console him and they likely won’t understand how he’s feeling. In their own minds (which have been programmed to be strictly rational) Oikawa has tried his best. It’s not his fault another boy hit a ball into the net. Yet he will still feel the crash.

The burning sensation of a loss.

Something that will either make or break him.

Oh how cruel life is.

But cruelty is beautiful. It’s beautiful in the strange sort of way that makes you cry. Perhaps it’ll make you a stronger person one day and when you look back you’ll be thankful. Right now though, Oikawa’s heart isn't sure if he’ll ever be thankful even if his mind says otherwise.

And then ques the entrance of you.

Your eyes are bright and shining. They’re filled with so much awe and excitement that Oikawa feels that feeling infect his own being.

Oikawa may be a smart child but he is still a child.

Everything seems to flash past him as you give him that smile reserved strictly for him.

“You’re amazing, Oikawa!” You exclaim.

It’s a strange feeling that overwhelms him. It feels as though everything has suddenly halted and standing here with him is just you and him. Him and you. You’ve always been the girl next door, someone Oikawa has seen everyday but only now does he suddenly realise how pretty you are. The way the light seems to reflect off your face makes the expression in your eyes so much gentler and your hair seems to be done just right.

You’re standing here across from him, praising him for something he’s done. You’re here admiring something he’s poured his heart, body and soul into and it’s the most romantic thing he’s ever seen in his (eight years of) life.

This is a moment that will linger with him forever.

“Thanks,” Oikawa isn’t sure what to say and so he stumbles out words he will regret for the rest of his life. “Keep your eyes on me.”

In retrospect, the words don’t haunt him for the rest of his life but he definitely thinks that there are better things he could have said. You teased him about it for a short while but Oikawa doubts you still remember those words now. You’ve met so many other people and experienced so much more of life.

“Well, my first love was-”

“(Y/n)-chan!” Oikawa’s mother (well, Mrs. Oikawa) burst into the room with a bright smile on her face, “I didn’t know you were in town!”

You’re quick to leave your spot beside Oikawa as you greet his mother.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude. My mother and I came into town to visit her sister and my cousin. My cousin ended up catching the flu so I was wandering around when I ran into Tooru.” you explained.

Mrs. Oikawa smirked, “and he brought you up here to his room?”

“Yeah, he wanted to give me this book.”

Mrs. Oikawa nodded along but Oikawa could tell she didn’t buy her words, “so do you plan on staying for dinner?”

“Oh no.” you apologised, “I have to catch the train back to my cousin's house.”

“Oh, that’s a shame! You know what, before you go could you help me with something? I’m knitting something for Tooru’s older sister and you look to be around the same size as her. Would you mind trying it on for me?”

“Of course.” you said, following Mrs. Oikawa out of the room.

Oikawa isn’t sure if he’s happy you’re gone or not. There is relief of not having to tell you that you’re his first love. Of course, he’s long over you. After having four (or maybe five) girlfriends, Oikawa has gotten over you long ago. He had been perfectly fine with telling you that you were his first love but he wasn’t exactly sure how you would take it.

You’d always been the kind of person that liked admiring people from afar.

He wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship over something that’s happened in the past.

Besides, back when he was in love with you he hadn’t been aware that other girls existed. It had been just volleyball, the other boys that played volleyball and you.

---

Growing up, there had only been two things Oikawa had wanted.

One, he wanted to make it to nationals. At least once in his middle school (which would eventually turn into highschool) years, he wanted to show that he was the best. At first it had been because of his love for the sport. The feeling of being on court was almost unmatched by any other. Then it had eventually transitioned into wanting to beat other people and prove he was the best.

He wanted to feel the euphoria of being on court. The addraline of victory. The determination as he made his way through the ranks.

Each and every step was something he looked forward to. Each and every motion was something that would push him forward and keep him in the paradise that he so loved. Nationals was the pinnacle. It showed to everyone, not just other volleyball players, that you were good (brilliant even) at what you did.

He wanted to be good enough to stand with the best of the best.

And then, secondly, he wanted you.

Not in that possessive and obsessive way but in the way that a boy likes a girl. Something sweet and innocent. In the sort of way where he could hold your hand and know that you also wanted to hold his as well.

You had always been by his side, following him around, but he could never actually call you his. Not that he wanted you to have as a possession of his own! He just… wanted to be with you forever. The way his parents were with each other and the way his sister was with her special friend.

Girls flocked to him constantly. Not just was he good looking but he was kind and charismatic. The perfect combination for a chick magnet. But the only girl’s attention he wanted was yours.

It was horrible.

The worst feeling was the jealousy that came when you spoke to other people with that smile. That smile that made people feel like the center of the world and made their hearts flutter the same way he did. And you were always such a fickle person, giving attention to anyone that caught your interest. Why did you have to be so nice?

He always made sure to walk you to and from school and he liked the rumors it started. Even if you denied the rumors every time. It kept unwanted attention from you.

Oikawa knew he could never stop you from being friends with anyone but that never meant he couldn’t deter you from certain people. Especially people that could swoop in and steal you away.

He wanted to be your first and last boyfriend.

And then came the horrible news.

You and your family were moving away. Into the big city of Tokyo. Your parents had acquired bigger and better jobs which meant you and him would no longer be just a house over. You would still be just a phone call but it would be different when he wouldn’t be able to see your face right after.

Eventually, those feelings that swarmed Oikawa’s chest whenever he thought of you faded away.

His heart stopped racing whenever you crossed his mind.

HIs breathing no longer hitched when he heard someone mention your name.

And it was strangely relieving.

Perhaps he may have lost a little bit of himself but it was now a part of him that was gone and made him stronger. You would become a memory he would think back on and smile. You would be his first love that he would think back on fondly.

Okay, maybe not his first love but his first crush.

“Tooru!”

“Hm?” Oikawa perked his head up at his mother’s loud call.

“You would think that there are bees in your brain.” his mother sighed, “I asked if you could grab the pot. The one on the top shelf.”

Oikawa nodded, “okay.”

His mother sighed again, “what’s gotten you in such a dazed mood?”

“I bet it’s (Y/n)-chan.” teased Oikawa’s older sister.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, “please. I don’t like her that way anymore. She’s just an old childhood friend. I don’t even talk to her that much anymore.”

His sister gave him a strange look, staring at him for a long and uncomfortable moment before turning away, “then don’t regret it when she gets swept off her feet by someone better than you.”

“As if there’s someone better than me out there for her.”

“Oh, there are tons of better guys out there just look at-”

“Oh hush you two, I’ve had to listen to adults bicker about pointless things for hours. I don’t want to have to listen to my grown children bicker about pointless things too,” his mother exclaimed, “and Tooru, are you getting that pot down or what?”

“Oh, right.”

“Did I hear someone mention the (L/n) girl?” Asked his father, peeking his head into the kitchen.

“You mean the one Tooru’s in love with?” teased his sister.

Oikawa scoffed.

“She left her umbrella.”

“Oh, someone should-”

Oikawa was quick to snatch the umbrella from his father and race out the door. Of course you forgot your umbrella and just when it looked like it was going to rain. It looks like you haven’t changed from when you were younger.

Oikawa was never really the mom friend but he always found himself looking after you. Whether intentionally or not.

It’s cute. Not having to take care of you but knowing there are still parts of you that are the same. After seeing you in all those volleyball magazines Oikawa wasn’t sure if you were the same clumsy and impatient girl. He suppose it's nice knowing that there are parts of you that are still.. you.

You’re probably still at the bus stop, right? You did just leave five minutes ago. If you were gone, Oikawa would just wait for another day to give it to you. Besides, it would mean you’re on the bus not getting wet. He would definitely need it more if you’ve already borded the train.

Turning the corner, Oikawa lets out a sigh.

There you are.

He recognizes you immediately despite seeing you from behind. Anticipation tingles from the tips of Oikawa’s fingertips to the edge of his nose. His heart’s thumping erratically as swear forms in the palms of his hand.

It’s as if the stars have aligned just for him as you turn and smile. That one smile that’s reserved strictly for him. Your eyes, with that gleam he’s grown to love, meet his own. Then, his heart stops.

Ah.

He’d forgotten this feeling.

It looks like not much has changed about him either.

Fall in love with someone when you’re with them.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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ac-liveblogs · 2 years

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Kazuha's story for this event would have been much more fun if it wasn't just dead history that no one, even Kazuha himself, cares about. Why would you show angst and conflict and then be like "yeah none of that matters now." Wish we could have seen him struggle with it. He might have even been an interesting character!

Also in this event he was like "Ambitions are what makes people human and gives them strength." but in his story he was like "ambitions are stupid and shouldn't challenge the gods" so are we to assume that Kazuha developed into supporting the vision hunt? Even though the only arc he'd been thru at that point was fighting the vision hunt? I think his apathy just feels contradictory. He wants to fly free and not be tied down by anything, but also he super cares about the trappings of justice and the wellbeing of people which implies being super tied down by things.

I think the purest form of this is ppls theory that the electro seelie from pt 3 was his friends spirit. If so, we are being guided through Kazuha's sad backstory by his deceased friend who Kazuha thinks walked into his own unobjectionable death by completely cool n okay tyrant goddess (which he later resisted so clearly he actually did care? Otherwise why did he fight?! What's going on!?)

Kazuha is.............. kind of antithetical to Genshin's obsession with lore, isn't he? If it were me, I'd make Kazuha's lack of interest bite him in a "the past comes back to haunt you" type of plot, or use it to put him in conflict with people that disagree with his decisions (like Ayato/Ayaka, who can't understand why he'd let the clan die out). Stacking up all the things Kazuha doesn't care about or has rejected responsibility for could paint him in a pretty bad light (up to and including ditching Inazuma) and give him room to grow/develop, or try to affirm his ideology/reach a balance.

Well, the Kaedehara family lore is really kind of irrelevant outside of the context of the upcoming drama between Kazuha and Scaramouche, so... I probably would have saved snippets of it for drama in the Inazuma World Quest and put Kazuha at odds with Ayaka and Scaramouche in very different ways lmao

As it is, it just comes across as lore for lore's sake. I'm getting really sick of Genshin putting everyone's character development in the past.

Kazuha didn't really say that ambitions are stupid and you shouldn't challenge the Gods; it's that Kabotsurube Isshin's current ambition was impossible to attain, and that it had warped beyond his creator's original ambition anyway.

Prized Isshin Blade: When I look back at the past, I can remember the day of my forging like it was just yesterday. Prized Isshin Blade: I once told him that I would pay any price to fulfill his wishes, such was the debt I owed to him for giving me the gift of consciousness. Prized Isshin Blade: But darkness and slaughter numb the mind. Over time, I lost sight of the difference between gratitude and grudge. Prized Isshin Blade: Not only did I fail to fulfill his ambition... I also defiled it... Kaedehara Kazuha: You are finally seeing reality clearly.

and

Kaedehara Kazuha: He felt intense regret at being tricked by the Fatui, but he could never again return to his homeland. His sole wish was to one day return his single proudest creation back to the land of his birth. Kaedehara Kazuha: So he instructed this sentient blade to find a way back to Inazuma, no matter how long or how hard the journey. But he never wished to rival the gods... Kaedehara Kazuha: All he wanted to show was that they once shone brilliantly as blade and smith, that they were still worthy of being trusted.

Kazuha even says he found Kagotsurube Isshin's desire to fight the Raiden Shogun inspiring, because he's drawn to those with grand aspirations. He has no issue with ambitions, he just saw this one as misguided and wanted to help Kagotsurube Isshin realise that its course was self-destructive. Kazuha has never agreed with the Vision Hunt decree, he just didn't want to fight it.

I... kind of get Kazuha saying it was his friend's own stupid fault for picking a fight with the Shogun, because it kind of was, like, what did he expect to happen - personally the issue I have with it is that I'd expect Kazuha to say that line out of bitterness towards his friend's bad decision before he came to understand that/why his friend died satisfied? Genshin actually uses it as one of many lines indicating why what Ei did was Fine, Actually, No-One Blames Her, It's All Good. It's less about Kazuha and more about Ei, so... as useful as it would be for characterisation, it's easier to just disregard it.

Kazuha’s “selfless heroism” is kind of an informed attribute, though. Where. When. You mean the 0 words he spoke in the Inazuma World Quest, where he just showed up and Fought Guys? Write the actual concept in the story, not just his lore, you hacks!

#ac plays genshin impact #kazuha meditation zone #i'm thinking about this kid a lot lately. i'm so annoyed. i could really like him.#IN CONCEPT

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haikyuuincorrecttrash · 2 years

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100 letters

part 8.

"Hinata,

WE HAVE REACHED THE NATIONAL!!!!!

I'm writing this because I don't know how to say it out loud. I'm still afraid to jinx it. Wake up one day and realize that it's all just a dream. Is it funny to you? But it’s not for me. I'm afraid. I'm really scared. And yet we did it, we went national. It's so... unreal. To be honest, after losing to Seijo, I thought we didn't have a chance. But then we defeated all these teams, we defeated Oikawa and their ace Iwaizumi, and now Shiratorizawa. I remember annoying Oikawa by constantly following him to teach me his tricks, and now I have defeated both him and Ushiwaka. Now it even seems to me that Oikawa should learn from me. Funny, isn't it? The student bypassed the teacher. I know it's hard for you to understand, because you've never had a teacher, only an example in the form of a Little Giant, but I think you're getting closer and closer to him with each of our victories. Just realize this – you will play where the LITTLE GIANT played! Isn't that crazy? Isn't it like a dream that you're afraid to wake up from? I'm afraid.

Of course, I understand that I didn't do it myself. It's all thanks to Karasuno, and I've never been so grateful to fate or God, if there is one, that I got here. I have never been so grateful to Daichi-san that he forced us to work with you, because otherwise we would never have found our fast and would not have entered the national. I'm ashamed of what I wrote in the early days, because I probably didn't have the slightest right to write it. It's funny to even think about who I thought you were in those days: a problem, a curse, a nonentity. Now I understand that it was only thanks to you that I took this place in the team.

So what I want to say is forgive me and thank you for everything you've done.

You made me a part of this team that I couldn't even dream of. I'm finally a part of something, and not its terrible tumor, whose selfishness only spoils everything. It may be too early to say that I am no longer selfish, but here's what I can say with confidence – thanks to you, I am moving in the right direction. And maybe it will sound strange, but you have become not only a rival or a friend to me, you have become my partner. I know, only you can understand this word correctly. There is no romantic subtext in it, there is a clear understanding in it that we already understand each other much better, as only partners can understand.

So thank you for being with me. I like to think that I am overcoming all these obstacles together with someone, and not alone, as it was before.

With thanks,

Kageyama.

PS Please convey my thanks to the whole Karasuno. You know, it's hard for me to communicate, and you make it so easy that I'm even a little jealous. But, of course, not too much, because I know that I can learn it too. This is a challenge for me, to become once as sociable as you. But for now, I can only ask you to do some things for me. I will never be able to admit to Karasuno how much I appreciate their friendship with someone like me and their patience with me, so please say it for me. They deserve to know how much they mean to me. You are not the only one worthy of this knowledge. However, I strongly ask you not to show them this letter. It's just for you, and you can retell my words as you please."

It was Kageyama's most honest letter, but he wrote it right after the victory, so it's not surprising that he got so emotional. The amazing thing is that he still gave it to a friend. Years later, when he reread it, he became terribly ashamed, and he blushed at every word. Nevertheless, years later, Hinata was there, stroking his back and saying that actually this letter is very nice.

Hinata, by the way, did not fulfill his promises. He gave this letter to all of Karasuno to read, and the team even hung this piece of paper on the wall of the hall so that every time Kageyama crosses the boundaries and screams, everyone could come to the wall and remember that this is the same teenager as themselves.

Hinata was offended to give this letter, because he would like to reread these lines (especially the words about the partner, because he himself once confessed to Yachi that he felt for Kageyama, using this word), but he felt that it would be better for the whole Karasuno. When Shoyo graduated from school, he still took this letter with him to Brazil and reread it when he felt sad and lonely.

But it happened later, and now this letter is hanging on the wall of the gym, and Kageyama did not beat Hinata weakly for this trick.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu incorrect quotes #hinata shoyuo #kageyama tobio #kagehina #kageyama x hinata #kagehina fic

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sunsburns · 4 months

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the search for glory

pairing: luke castellan x ares!daughter reader

summary: you're stubborn and relentless; he's calm and taunting. two opposites put aside their differences after years to meet in the middle to understand what glory truly means, and in the meantime, they start to question why drifted apart in the first place.

—or: desperate, you ask luke to help you learn how to fight with a sword so that you can be the best, he sees it as a way to spend time with you.

word count: 6.9k (i need help)

warnings: luke castellan, violence, long reading time, rivals to lovers, teenage angst, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, clairsse and annabeth being done with reader, percy and grover being the best duo, i used the fuck outta a thesaurus website, percy being head over heels for annabeth, kinda angsty ending... sorry not sorry!!

explicit warnings: allusions to sex, mentions of sex, kissing, kissing and more yearning!!!

a/n: luke castellan has been plaguing my mind. i need that evil man in my BONES!! INSTANTLY. charlie bushnell as ruined me like i need to remind myself who the enemy is like i'm tryyyinggg :( anyways this is a fic i wrote based on this request! i clearly got ahead of myself and once i started i couldn't stop. enjoyyy :)

You hate swords.

They were too long and heavy, an extra weight for you to carry on your body that only slowed you down. Your preferred knives, daggers you can throw with perfect precision, blades you can tuck in your boots and hide anywhere on yourself.

For years your ego had you refuse to ever touch a sword. You knew your weakness, and there was no need for anyone else to know.

"Again."

The rain pours nails against the trees. It's cold and seeping through your clothes, yet you are still outside, circling the head of the cabin and eldest son of Hermes in Camp Half-Blood. In the summer, there are storms so strong that pass by that not even the Mist can deflect. Luke Castellan has a smug glint in his eyes, directed at you, at the sword clutched in your hands and the way you still cannot control your swing. He's been trying to teach you the art of swordsmanship for days now, a necessity, he claims.

You only agreed because you thought you could've mastered it easily, much like everything else you've ever done in your life. You wanted to spite Luke and be the best, even where he thrives. But you were too rash, too much in a hurry to end things.

"Again." He repeats.

"No," you say.

"No?"

He almost laughs at you.

He's doing it to wound your pride, you know it. For years, Luke Castellan has been an itch on your back, crawling under your skin, setting everything in its path ablaze until there was a wildfire in the pit of your stomach.

"A daughter of Ares can't wield a sword?" He teases.

You take honour to your father's name. It makes you feel worthy of something, a strength that fuels your ambitions. Luke knows this; he had been there when you got claimed after a month of moping like a kicked puppy in the Hermes cabin. He'd seen the way it gave you purpose. He told you he had seen it coming from miles away--from the moment you first met eyes.

"You have the battle of fire in your soul," he said to you after the ceremony, and you never knew if he meant it endearingly or to mock you. You remember glancing at him, and the warm light of the lantern sitting on the dockside between you flickered before the flame cracked to life again. The moon hung low when he continued, "Now you need to find your glory."

And then Luke reached over to push you into the lake. You had grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, bringing him down with you. Luke spluttered when he emerged, shoulder-deep in the lake as he stared at you, hair dripping into his eyes, and oh, he was mad.

But that was years ago when you were kids.

But even then, you would have done anything for Ares. The loyalty you harbour for your father was one of the things Luke held against you. He hated it. You never knew why. You didn't care enough to ask him.

The blades of the daggers gifted to you by or father, Ares, burn against your skin, tucked away by your waistband as you tremble in the cold rain. Your fingers twitch, eager to grab and launch them in Luke's direction when he stands tall and repeats himself one more time.

"Again."

You leap at him. A shout rips from your throat as your feet stomp against the muddied ground, splashing over puddles while raising your arms to swing your sword at him.

Luke saw your attack coming from miles away. He swats you, kicking your stomach. It sends you to a tree trunk, your sword falling out of your hands. You were panting and shaking from the cold or anger or both. You slowly get back up on your feet, jaw clenched and knuckles white.

"Again."

"Fuck you!" You explode, walking angrily towards him. You've had enough of him and stood your ground. It's been hours. You missed dinner, and you were hungry and tired and sick of his shit. Once you're close enough, you shove Luke with all your might, and he stumbles into the mud.

It almost makes you smile when he looks up at you, his face twisting into something between shock and a tinge of annoyance.

"What's the point in all this, huh? Make me catch a fucking fever? Hypothermia?"

"You don't know how to use a sword," He says simply.

It spurs you further. "So what? I don't need a stupid sword to beat you."

He stays quiet for a beat, then two. The rain continues to fall as he looks up at you again, squinting as water falls into his eyes, dripping from his dark hair. "I know," Luke says. "You gotta do something about that anger, though. Restrain it."

You take a step back, watching him closely as he pushes himself back on his feet. "You said you wanted to learn." He tells you and picks up the sword you've discarded by the tree. Luke hands it back to you, shoving it into your hands. "So, I will teach you and you will learn."

The blade is heavy in your hands.

"Maybe after this, you'll be the second-best swordsman in camp."

Your eyes snap to him. "Second?"

He smirks, amused, "You didn't think you'd be better than me, did you?"

When you don't answer, his smile widens. Luke holds his sword up, nodding at you to step closer. "C'mon. Let's go again."

Lightning strikes as the metal of the swords clash against each other again. And again. There are grunts of effort coming from you, of exhaustion, and a great fury to see that Luke's barely broken a sweat, that he's enjoying every second spent with you under the rain.

With a gaze as sharp as your blade, you were fueled by the inexplicable thirst for excellence in swordsmanship; you know it was out of your expertise. Luke Castellan was the first person you turned to, despite your best efforts. And you're not surprised when he agreed, and he was shocked, yes, but he agreed nonetheless.

You only chose him because you knew he wouldn't go easy on you and that maybe, once you lash out at him enough times, stubborn, testing his patience, he would give up and leave you be.

But it's been weeks, and he's still here.

The clash of blades between you two isn't just about skill anymore; it's pride, it's a puzzle of the invisible line between the two of you, testing the boundaries, toeing at them.

And you still can't help but imagine the look on his face once you finally beat him. So you swing harder, move faster.

Luke has trouble catching you off guard or forcing you on the defensive side or even finding an opening to sweep your feet. But you were getting frustrated again, every time the two of you met in the middle, every time your shoes stepped into another puddle, every time he blocked your hits, or if the wind blew too strong. He finds your gaze when it happens, catching the way your lips twist into a deeper frown and the way your brows furrowed, how your jaw clenched and unclenched, huffing as you pick up your pace again.

In your haste to beat him, your restraint evaporates, leaving your movements once again sloppy and uncalculated. It isn't hard for Luke to knock the sword out of your hand, sending it flying backward. But you don't stop, you only grab his by the blade and throw it aside as well.

Before Luke knows it, your fist collides with his cheek. He blinks as his body registers the pain, wiping the warm wetness dripping down his nose. The rain washes the blood from his hands quickly.

His eyes trail up your tense form to settle on your face, then your eyes. His fingers flex in restraint against engaging in close combat with you. He knows he can't win this one. So he waits for the explosion that will come. And it does.

It comes in a blur of vengeful fists, kicks and grunts.

In a flash, he jumps back to avoid your hook punch, then your uppercut. He rolls to avoid your kick, but he doesn’t see your hands coming up to grab his throat and slam him back into the same tree he kicked you to.

Your hands are tight on his throat, but your rage blinds you to the knife he draws from your own waistband. In a quick motion, he slashes your forearm. You draw back your hands and release his throat at the same time.

Luke jumps out of the way. He sees the defiance in your eyes, as well as the satisfaction.

"What the fuck was that?" He sputters, tossing your dagger by your feet.

"Are you angry?" You taunt.

Finally, you think when you can see that familiar flare in his eyes once he realizes you've been meaning to rile him up. The same flare you saw when you dragged him into the lake with you. You tuck your dagger back in its place.

Luke crouches to pick up both swords again, then he throws one at you. "I showed you what restraint looks like. Lesson over." He wipes the blood from his face again, "Now, let me teach you channelled anger."

Whatever you expected, none of it prepared you for the beating you were about to receive.

The next morning, you owned bandages, bruises and healing cuts. Your foot bounces restlessly under the table as you glare at the breakfast in front of you. You have no appetite, not after last night, not after Luke had crushed every inch of your pride with every hit from the back of his sword to each time his blade would slice your skin just enough for it to leave a scar.

Clarisse was grinning, a wide knowing smile that sets your own teeth on edge when she sits next to you, your headache worsening when you catch sight of Luke slouched a few tables away.

He has a purple mark on the side of his face where you had hit him, his bottom lip split, and he has a bandage wrapped around his bicep. He doesn't look at you, eyes on his food, wincing.

It makes you feel better, knowing you had gotten a few good hits back before you threw your sword at him and stormed off.

"A little birdy told me Castellan could barely get out of bed today," Clarisse snickers. She reaches to your plate, taking a strawberry. She bites into it, humming while nudging your arm playfully.

You roll your eyes, "whatever Chris told you--"

"Annabeth, actually." Clarisse corrects you, her voice cutting through the air with a touch of authority. "She also told me she saw you two walk out of the infirmary late last night. Look, I know you guys are just sparring, but there's a line and you need to set limits and bring it down a notch. You're going to kill each other one day."

It's troubling when Clarisse, the epitome of combat resilience, steps in to address things that are becoming too violent. Her concern is a rarity, a signal that a boundary has been pushed. You do need to bring it down a notch. And you want to try. You really do. But there's this persistent itch in your bones, a phantom tug on your finger that refuses to let go.

"Whatever," you say, because you cannot find a way to explain it. You want to be the best, but Clarisse knows that. Everyone at camp wants to be the best, everyone has that craving for glory stitched into their veins with golden string. But your hunger doesn't stop there, you didn't want to be better than anyone, you wanted to be better than Luke. At everything he does.

There's an intangible presence that envelops Luke Castellan, an invisible aura that chases him through the air, and you're pulled to it with an almost magnetic pull. It's something you desire, something you want to claim as your own, willing to be consumed entirely by its intriguing draw. This unsaid yearning has been simmering in your mind from the moment he shoved you into the lake.

Last night, in the cold grip of the rain-soaked ground, whatever it is that chases him, slipped through your fingers. Your back against the wet earth, teeth chattering in the cold, you held your sword defensively, trying to fend off his strike from above. It was in that unsettling instant, as the rain mingled with the blood from a thin cut on your cheek, that you felt it—the pulse of something profound. That's your glory.

When he froze, your eyes brimming with angry tears, a sudden softening overtook Luke's face as he looked at you. For a fleeting second, you almost felt a twinge of remorse for your earlier outburst. That brief vulnerability, however, vanished as fast as it appeared. In the next heartbeat, your sword lay discarded on the ground, and the cold steel of his blade pointed at your neck.

"Honestly..." Clarisse starts, pulling you out of the memory. "The way you guys flirt is concerning. I think you just need to work out that sexual tension without killing each other." She grabs her empty plate and begins to stand. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't."

You would've laughed at her joke if you didn't burn at the insinuation of flirting. And sexual tension. With Luke fucking Castellan.

It makes you think of every time he's made you curse, scream, bleed, cry and laugh. You can't even say anything because Clarisse walks off, dumping her strawberry stems into the fire and disappears to meet Silena, probably.

Suddenly, you can feel your stomach twist into ugly shapes when you accidentally catch Luke's gaze. Of course. Just your luck. He's already looking at you when you're flustered. You bite down the inside of your cheek and start to stand, hoping Clarisse hasn't gone too far yet. Or maybe you could find Grover and see what he was up to.

The boy beats you to it, as always, already making his way towards you before you can even pick up your plate, still full of food.

"Hey," Luke says breathlessly. He looks smug as he stands in front of you. Too smug, you realize, for someone who has an equal amount of wounds as you do.

You hate it.

You hate his brown eyes, the way they catch the sun and look like honey. You hate the smattering of freckles he gets every summer, the scar on his face, the ones you know litter the rest of his skin. You hate his hair, how it falls into his eyes when he gets mad at you, how he gets too focused on you to push it back.

The way he holds the fresh ice pack between you irks you, a gesture that feels more like a taunt than sincere worry. "In case you need it," he says with a smile, and you can't help but think he's teasing, revelling in the fact that he got the upper hand last night. The unspoken message lingers—that you lost, that he's superior with a sword.

Nonetheless, a voice of reason nudges you to reconsider. Maybe just maybe, he's offering the ice pack out of genuine concern, untainted by the competitive undertones. Maybe you're reading too much into it, and his smile is merely a sign of kindness rather than a subtle mockery.

It still hurts your pride. "I don't want it."

"I didn't mean it like that," Luke says hastily, as if he can sense the turmoil of thoughts crossing your mind. "I just... I feel bad. I was too hard on you."

His words catch your attention, and you finally meet his gaze, a curt nod recognizing the rare admission of wrongdoing. It's remarkable for Luke to admit regret, and the weight of this confession lingers in the air.

"You were."

"But you can't really blame me," He adds. And, of course, he finds a way to turn it back on you. “You kinda started it."

"I know."

"So, I think we're even."

"You think?"

"You literally went ballistic."

You huff out a breath, annoyed, "I get it." And you finally take his stupid ice pack.

When he doesn't move, you look at him again, squinting at the early morning sun, "What do you want?"

He smiles again, swaying on his feet. "I'm taking a few kids hiking."

"Okay?"

"I need another counsellor to look after them. If you wanted to come with me," he suggests, the words carefully chosen.

"Why?" You raise a brow, hoping to hide your initial shock.

"Because the weather's nice," he shrugs, "And Annabeth said she found a waterfall somewhere off on the other side of the mountain and I've been meaning to check it out for a while-"

"No," you interrupt, shaking your head, "I meant why me."

Mischive sparks in his eyes, reminiscent of your earlier years at Camp Half-Blood, before you were claimed. Back in the short time when the two of you would wander away from the group, charting your own course, or setting up silly pranks for Mr. D. A particular memory resurfaces—your favourite prank involving filling bottles of wine replaced with soy sauce, left for the camp director to discover.

"For old time's sake." He says.

You're still apprehensive, "The last time we went hiking together, Chiron shunned us to the get-along-cabin."

It was three years ago, and you don't remember it as clearly as you hoped, but you can still recall teasing, poking each other with sticks, swearing and the nasty names, and racing to see who would find the young camper you lost first after spending ten minutes fighting over it.

Fortunately, you did find Apollo's young daughter, but not before rumours of a missing camper reached Chiron's ears. He had assigned you two cleaning jobs at the same time you were compelled to stay at the small cabin in the middle of the forest till you weren't neck and neck with each other.

"And that wasn't the best week of your life?"

You can't help but roll your eyes. "When are we leaving?"

Soon enough, you're busy smearing another layer of sunscreen on Grover's nose when Percy appears at your side.

Two groups of kids under thirteen had made it halfway up the trail, the sun lazy and warm, the way it could only be on a late morning hike. The kids are still quiet with sleep, trailing happily behind each other, trading secrets and sips of water with their assigned hike buddies.

It was nice. And a part of you was happy you've agreed to tag along. The smell of fresh pine needles, like forest floor and mountain air, makes you smile.

"Are you and Luke fighting?" Percy asks, twigs and leaves already poking out of his curls.

You finish patting Grover's forehead as you turn to the other boy with a soft frown, pulling out the small sticks. But the two kids stare up at you expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of answer.

"I don’t know if you've noticed, Percy, but Luke and I fight all the time."

Grover rolls his eyes as he falls back into step beside you, the three of you continuing up the path a little behind the rest of the group. But Percy tugs at your arm, clearly not finished with the conversation, nor satisfied with your answer.

"But that's the point," he says, and you huff as you pull him out of the way of a fallen branch, his attention focused too much on you to notice it in his way. "You haven’t been mean to each other all morning."

"Or called each other names," Grover pointed out from the other side of you.

"You call each other names all the time."

Annabeth Chase appears beside Percy, tucking her hat into her pocket as she sets you with a knowing look. Percy grins at the girl's arrival, cheeks pink as their shoulders brush together on the narrow path.

“So what?” you mutter.

You glance up ahead, over the crowd of children’s heads to see Luke bickering with the smaller kids, a boy from Dionysus' cabin poking him in the back with a long stick as he trudges behind them. You have to bite back a smile, but only because you had offered to lead with the younger kids, because you know they like you more than they like him, but Luke, stubbornly, refused your offer. He's an idiot.

"We're adults, we can call each other names."

Percy scoffs loudly, and all three kids stare at you, less than impressed.

“Have you and Luke ever kissed?” Grover suddenly asks, letting the words burst out from his chest like he knew he shouldn’t have asked.

You trip over a branch, the same fallen sticks that scattered the trail that you’d pulled Percy away from. You turn to look at the boy so fast that your neck protests, your eyes wide.

"Because Luke looks at you like he wants to kiss you all the time."

"Of course they've kissed," Annabeth grumbles. "Don't act all shocked," she tells you, "I watched you guys last night."

"Ew," Percy makes a face.

Annabeth wacks the back of his head, and while Percy winces, she continues, "Not like that. I noticed neither of you were at dinner. So, I went to check on you. I found them sparring."

"In the rain?" Grover's eyes widen.

"Stop stalking people, Annie," You warn, but there's no bite to your words.

"I'm being observant," she declares.

"It's definitely stalking..." Percy mutters, kicking a small rock down the trail.

She decides to ignore his remark this time and looks up at you. "I always thought it was ridiculous whatever you and Luke had against each other. I hoped you'd do something about it before you both imploded because you're too horny to come to terms with normal emotions."

Your jaw drops, a small noise of indignity and humiliation comes from you, and Grover looks mortified. Percy lets out a loud, obnoxious laugh, nearly doubling over as if Annabeth has said the funniest thing he's ever heard.

There's a faint smile on her lips when Percy puts his hand on her shoulder as his laughter dies to quiet, amused snickers. It eggs Annabeth to keep going, "I'm sure your kiss was romantic. Glad it took you guys a week of almost killing each other to realize you actually have feelings for one another."

You feel it again, that itch and wildfire that spreads in your stomach whenever Luke gets too close or says something that irks you. You find yourself fumbling with your words; no comment about how wrong she was, or how disgusted you were, or a snarky, awfully rude remark as a way to deflect. No, your voice starts to betray you. You only hope your father can't see you now as you grow flustered (this is something you will never admit).

"We never kissed."

Annabeth hums, raising one brow as she nods. She pulls her hat back out again, unfolding it as Percy drops his hand from her shoulder. When she looks at you, she has a similar smug look on her face, akin to the one that adorned Luke's face earlier that morning during breakfast.

"You know, Luke said the same thing when I asked him. But he never denied he doesn't like you, and neither did you."

With that, Annabeth puts on her hat and disappears.

You watch branches move and footprints left behind on the dirt in her wake, and you hate that Percy and Grover are smiling at each other as she leaves. They share knowing looks, speaking in a silent language only they understand and it puts you on edge.

Suddenly, you have to remind yourself that the kids are twelve. They have no idea what they're talking about.

Thankfully, Grover and Percy never bring it up again. It's as if they've forgotten about it after spotting a pegasus within the trees. Percy instantly named it Bob, and when Grover disagreed, he named it Peter.

"Seriously?"

Percy shrugs, "Spider-Man's cool."

When the group arrives, you still can't get Annabeth's words out of your head. It makes you uneasy, and you don't feel like yourself as you watch the kids gasp and gape at the sight of the hidden waterfall tucked away behind so many trees and bushes you would have thought it was sacred to Gaia. The waterfall appears to be any other cascade in a forest, but the fact that it is concealed under the Mist that protects the camp makes it so alluring.

It was peaceful but not quiet with the roar of water, droplets pattering against the rock at the bottom of the falls. All nature and life near the waterfall seemed to grow in size, and more birds called and sang—more snakes that twisted around the branches of the tall trees and frogs that softly croaked as they soaked under the cool water.

The afternoon sun sparkles over the water and the small frothy cascade of a plunge pool. Everyone starts to scatter, Demeter's children running off to climb trees, Artemis' kids rushing to chase after the few lizards and bugs tucked under wet leaves; they all find a place to be, one they all know they will thrive most in.

"Annabeth sold this place short. It's way better than she described it."

When Luke appears at your side, a conscious effort keeps you from growing stiff. There's an obvious warmth flowing from him, a subtle tug inviting you to come near him. But you resist, steadfast in denying yourself that proximity.

"Yeah. It's nice." You say, aiming to keep it short.

"Just nice? Is that all you've got?"

You shrug, crossing your arms around yourself. "It's okay." But the truth is, it's more than that. It's beautiful. Words fall short of capturing the essence of the waterfall before you, the mist delicately kissing your skin or the laughter of the kids transforming the wildfire in your chest into a warm and comforting glow.

Luke's brows furrow, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

You're not. It has been hours since you've fought, yet you can't get it out of your head. Shit, you can barely go on with the day without someone reminding you of it; Clarisse, Annabeth and even your mind wanders back to it, how he's been so persistent in making sure you'll be able to wield a sword, a silent promise.

In all honesty, since you've started, you could barely recognize yourself, and you knew it had the potential to be disastrous, but you weren’t sure you disliked the feeling. It was just new (it really isn't) and foreign (you've known, you've just refused to accept it), and you felt like you had to go to it rather than run away from it.

When Luke utters your name, the resonance carries an unfamiliar softness and tenderness, diverging from any way you've previously heard him speak it. The rhythm prompts you to turn your head to look at him.

The sun, in its glorious descent, casts a warm glow across the water, creating a tapestry that highlights the tan of his skin earned through long days under its unforgiving rays. His hair, in a charming disarray, falls across his forehead, and within the depths of his dark eyes, a fondness surfaces.

"Something's bothering you," he observes.

It's a statement that goes beyond mere recognition; it's an acknowledgment of his innate understanding of you. His ability to see you. He wants you to know he can see right through you. That's his glory.

“And how would you know that?”

"Maybe because I spend every waking moment of the last, what, four years, in your close proximity." As for emphasis, he moved closer to you, as close as he was the other night but without the blades of swords between you.

You'd usually have countered, perhaps by tripping him or tugging on his ear to coax him to step back. But this time, you don't. You can't bring yourself to. You find yourself strangely incapacitated, torn between the impulse to push him away and the undeniable desire to punch him again.

"And don't forget that week in the cabin. Best week of our lives, right?"

It takes him some time to react, "Sorry did you just make a joke?"

“No. I’m always serious,” you don't concede, but you did suppress a smile. You turn the rest of your body, finally fully facing him. "Listen, Luke..."

He goes to say something at the same time, but he closes his mouth and looks at you. His eyes are wary of you. It was like he was expecting you to pull a knife out of thin air and attack him.

"LUKE!"

Percy Jackson's voice echoes, a thunderous announcement as he cups his hands around his mouth, sending a mighty shout from the waterfall's peak. Your eyes widen at Percy's reckless display, a mix of respect and wonder washing over you. The boy, sitting on the treacherous ledge, dares you to wonder how he managed to get up there. But knowing him, Percy Jackson finding a way to reach to the top of the waterfall makes perfect sense.

"LUUUKE! LOOK AT ME! GROVER!"

His voice carries a blend of disbelief and excitement as if Percy himself doesn't believe he's climbed to the top while he waves his arms. Luke steps away from you, moving closer to the cascading water out of concern. The other kids begin to gather, their curiosity piqued by Percy's boisterous display. Grover walks up to you, tugging at your shirt to bring you to the edge of the natural pool.

When Annabeth suddenly appears at Luke's side, you can hear him asking why Percy was up there.

"Well, he said he could flip off the waterfall. I told him he didn't have the guts. So, here we are."

"Reminds me of someone." Luke smirks, eyeing from where he stands, Grover grinning between you both.

Percy lets out a loud battle cry from the top of the waterfall, smacking his fists against his chest. A responsible head of cabin would have told him to get down, or else he would be shoving pegasus shit for the rest of the week. But Annabeth is the one who drove Percy to the top of the waterfall, and whenever you and Luke were together, everything else was a second thought.

The kids collectively ignite, encouraging Percy with animated cheers, urging him to jump. Stepping back from the edge, he bursts into a sprint, the excitement evident as he hurtles off the rocks. Percy's arms flap for a heartbeat before effortlessly accomplishing two flips, resulting in a thunderous splash as he plunges into the brilliant blue waters.

A symphony of cheers erupts, the youngest kids bouncing in excitement as Percy emerges from the water, shaking his head to rid his curls of excess water, a gleeful grin stretched across his face. His eyes meet Annabeth's first, and his wild grin widens as she nods in approval, her own smile radiating with bright satisfaction.

Grover is the next one to jump in, tucking his legs to his chest before gracefully splashing into the water beside his best friend. The infectious spirit of adventure spreads like wildfire, and soon, a cascade of laughter and giggles fills the air as all the kids join in, frolicking in the embrace of the water.

At that moment, you feel an unexpected force crashing into your side. It startles you, and you instinctively shove the prying hands away. It's only upon a closer look that you realize it's Luke. He's looking at you with raised brows in a way to taunt you.

You aren't arguing, not quite, not yet. But the buzz in the air still feels fun.

His expression suddenly turns playful. Without warning, he seizes your arm, yanking you closer. Luke grins, that wide, bright kinda smile that shows off the dimples you almost forget he has. He looks boyish like this, pretty in a way that's soft and full of sun. Maybe it's because he is looking at you without the lines between his brows, the downturn of his lips, a cold glare in his eyes.

The toes of his shoes teasingly brush against yours, prompting your chin to tilt up defiantly as you lock eyes with him. You can smell the forest on him, campfire smoke and pine, leftover rain and something minty. He looks too happy, excited even.

You narrow your eyes at him, gaze lingering on the bruise you left on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know."

Luke tilts his head, intrigued, "About what?"

"What you said earlier. About being even."

"Oh?"

You hum, a subtle melody lingering in the air, your hands resting gently on Luke's arms. His attention is diverted as he holds his breath, waiting for what you'd say next as he stares at the softness of your skin in the sun and the beads on your camp necklace.

In the midst of this, a wide grin flashes across your face, a mischievous spark in your eyes. A sudden, forceful shove against Luke's chest disrupts the moment. Caught off guard, he stumbles backward, tripping over his feet and thrusts into an unexpected fall.

He hits the water with a splash, and to the rowdy sound of whoops and cheers, a wolf whistle from Percy when Luke emerges, top soaked and clinging to the ridges and dips of his muscles, tangled at his waist.

He sputters as he stares back up at you in shock, treading the water around him. "Seriously?"

You're fucking joyous, wrapped up in the way everyone is laughing, and you don't break eye contact with the boy as you bend at the waist and hold your hand out for him.

"I'm sorry," you manage to utter amid giddy giggles. It's a peculiar sensation—this feeling of not quite being yourself. For goodness' sake, you're giggling! It's as if you've been gently enveloped by something sweet and affectionate, a touch so tender that it feels as if Aphrodite herself has graced you with a kiss on the cheek.

But really, it was Luke. He takes your hand and tugs hard, pulling you straight into the water with him. You hit the water on the side and swam back to the surface with a gasp.

He stares at you with a devious grin, daring you to do something about it. You push your hair out of your face and lung at him.

You have to admit, sparing in water isn't something you have ever done, and the attempts to avoid any of the kids are getting to you. You are better at hand-to-hand, but now Luke has the absolute advantage. His longer limbs allow him to move better and to pull himself up on rocky ground when you try to push him down.

He places you in a headlock and presses your back into his chest. You quit struggling at that point, knowing it was over for you. But he doesn't let go, and you don't move when he slightly loosens his hold.

You spot Annabeth's gaze from the other side of the pool. She sits by the waterfall with Percy and Grover, adorning a knowing look as she raises her brows at you again.

Both of you are panting from the effort, his chest heaves against your back, a synchronous beat. The water adds a chilly bite to your and Luke's skin, but his breath is warm on the crook of your neck. Usually, you would have tapped out, or more commonly flipped him over. Yet, you find yourself in a trance, and you don't understand why you can't move away.

Why can't you move away?

"Gotcha."

The faint chuckle in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

His breath stills on your neck, and you gulp. You clear your throat, and he drops his arm but doesn't step away, letting it hover around your waist. You laugh, and it sounds nervous, a soft noise of embarrassment, like a girl with a crush.

You don't know how to feel about it when you turn to face him, chests almost touching from the proximity, and so do your noses. You can feel your heart beating so loud in your ribcage that you think he can hear it too.

You can feel the sting of the cut on your arm, and it pushes you to ask, "Why'd you agree to teach me how to use a sword? Was it pity?"

It takes him time to answer, his hand brushes against your hips underwater, but he doesn't move it, and neither do you. The droplets of water on his skin sparkle under the sunlight. "No," He finally says after a moment. "Not pity."

"Why, then?" You ask, not looking away. "Wanted a good reason to beat me up without getting in trouble?"

He laughs a genuine burst of amusement from his lips that doesn't sound sarcastic for once. It's a great contrast to how he laughed the night before under the rain, where it was taunting and he was in his element, the thrill of a sword in his hands crushing his veins. Glory.

"Yeah, that's it."

You can't hide the smile growing on your face. "I knew it."

You float around each other in a few beats of silence, the chatter of children in their own worlds buzzing away. His hand caresses your shoulder like a feather, and you lean into his touch. It is familiar and comforting, and it makes you realize that you might have needed it more than you ever thought you would.

"No, uh," Luke shakes his head, and you find it endearing. He looks a little pink around the cheeks, his smile nothing short of scandalous. "I actually wanted to spend time with you. Fighting's just a bonus."

His admittion makes your mouth fall open. His teasing words are no longer a taunt, and the conversation is no longer an argument. Luke Castellan looks at you with the same fire he always had though, a challenge in his eyes that you desperately want to rise to.

"You like fighting with me?"

He smirks. "Best part of my day, honestly."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"What's next?" You tease, "Pulling my hair at recess?"

"Would that do it for you?"

"No," you whisper because you don't think your voice should be any louder when he's so close. "This works just fine."

His lips are lightly touching yours, hovering as a ghost of a desired kiss. You hold your breath and close your eyes.

Ever so slowly, he tips your chin up and leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. His free hand circles your waist and brings you flush against him as you curl your fingers into the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. Luke gladly presses up against you, his fingers trailing from your chin and moving to curl into your hair, easily deepening the kiss.

Despite the prickling of your scars and the shallow cut in your forearm, you let yourself to the electric tingle of the kiss, the way it steals your breath and fills your chest with a million exploding fireworks.

You allow yourself a selfish moment to indulge in the way you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the barely-there press of his thigh between your legs, the scrape of his bandages beneath your fingers.

You're both crossing the unspoken line, his breath warm against your flushed skin. What happened to your pride? Your glory?

He pulls back, meeting your eyes again and gently combing your hair back. There's a sick smile plastered on your face, and you watch his lips turn up, dimples creasing his cheeks. You have a swell in your chest, and it makes you acknowledge that even if you never beat him with a sword, that satisfaction would never come close to this.

A chorus of "eww's" comes from the kids, only the twins from Aphoridite's cabin are kind enough to coo and "aw". And you have to take a moment to catch your breath, fingers slipping from his shirt when he drops his arms.

Luke lets himself fall back, the water lapping at his shoulders, and he grins at you, the soles of his feet brushing up against your thighs, just for a second. He clears his throat and lets his hot gaze linger on you for just a moment too long before he turns to splash water at anyone close enough.

"Mind your business, you little Krakens!"

You believe you've stumbled upon something greater than glory, a thought that's never once crossed your mind before Luke Castellan emerges as the sun illuminating your darkest nights. It's a poetic dance, a celestial symphony where every note he strikes resonates with the promise of warmth and brightness.

His laughter becomes the melody that accompanies your every step, and the moments shared feel like constellations etched against the canvas of time. Luke, the sun in your dark nights, bathes you in the comforting glow of his presence.

But there is an inescapable inevitability that shadows his light—a matter of time until the searing flames envelop you. A war catches on, and in its path, Luke Castellan sets ablaze everything his touch graces. He becomes the harbinger of impending reckoning, and you will be forced to pick up a sword once again.

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obeiii-mee · 3 years

Note

Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.

I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed

Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary

People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬

Brothers+ undateables reaction

Mammon snaps:

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This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.

Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!

•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.

⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.

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For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.

“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”

“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.

“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”

Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.

“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.

“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”

“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“

“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“

“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“

The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.

“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”

“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”

You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“

“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“

“I’m hungry-“

“Not now, Beel!”

“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.

Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.

He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.

“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”

It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.

“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.

“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”

He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.

......

Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this

You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.

Lucifer:

-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them

-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were

-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults

-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions

-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem

-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected

-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all

-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature

-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this

-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked

-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly

-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally

-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time

-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night

-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)

-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room

-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet

-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.

Levi:

-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth

-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out

-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there

-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much

-They usually don’t

-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now

-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night

-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it

-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home

-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame

-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’

-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon

-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding

-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable

-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)

-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him

-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real

-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling

-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers

-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice

Satan:

-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away

-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping

-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did

-But alas, he realised it too late

-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not

-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-

-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room

-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face

-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something

-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling

-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily

-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home

-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers

-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first

-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again

-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts

-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????

-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on

-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!

Asmo:

-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing

-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him

-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all

-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second

-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else

-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored

-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself

-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy

-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so

-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck

-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner

-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)

-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise

-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy

-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them

-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point

-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting

-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo

Beel:

-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day

-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice

-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case

-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about

-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary

-That’s the first thing that put him on alert

-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting

-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got

-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out

-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him

-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times

-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad

-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?

-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer

-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony

-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them

-Or he relies on you to give it to him

-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable

-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies

-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)

-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it

-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in

Belphie:

-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about

-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by

-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table

-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“

-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside

-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive

-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl

-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up

-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”

-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)

-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home

-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night

-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown

-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation

- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour

-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it

-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up

-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so

-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)

-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie

-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either

-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly

Diavolo:

-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason

-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night

-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in

-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday

-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned

-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings

-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves

-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most

-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)

-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space

-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it

-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty

-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down

Barbatos:

-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually

-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway

-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence

-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown

-Again, he has no right to intervene

-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons

-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily

-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)

-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)

-Basically, in the same position as the Prince

-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon

-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all

—————————————————————-

Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(

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chateautae · 3 years

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maybe i do | kth. I

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

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

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

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

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

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

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”

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

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

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

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

“And why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Father-”

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

“Dad-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Dad-”

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

“Dad, I don’t know-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You zeroed your vision in more.

Is that a cut on his finger?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just seemed different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So...”

“Marriage, huh?”

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

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

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

“I wanted to ask you something.”

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

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A bandage?”

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

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

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

He has really big hands.

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

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

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

He scoffed to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung.

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

“Looking for me?”

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

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

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

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

“It’s not real, though.”

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

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

Why was his voice so deep?

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

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

It was kinda cute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel him tense underneath you.

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

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

“Yes, so you do remember!”

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

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

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

Wait.

Oh God, not him.

Anything but him.

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

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

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

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

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

Were you in love with him or something?

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

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’ve you been?”

“Better than ever. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear God, you took your time with this one.

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

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“What?”

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

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

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

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you?

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

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

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

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief.

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

Your eyes widened in complete surprise.

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

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

“Says the one who was thinking about me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

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

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

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

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

It was the day of the wedding.

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

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

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

And none of it was your real choice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may kiss the bride.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He at least owed you that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially since your last partner.

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

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

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful.

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

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

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

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

The fool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if Taehyung really was no different?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shitty, as in...?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You took a deep breath.

Maybe Taehyung is different after all.

prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung arranged marriage au

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sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

Cushioned

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: Kageyama is just babie

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

[Re-Post]

↷ SUMMARY ↶

They’re just looking away for a minute for goodness’s sake and someone already managed to steal their spotlight as their manager’s knight in shining armor–but they’re chill as long as you’re okay. Well, except Oikawa.

It’s another practice match of Aoba Johsai and Karasuno–Coach Irihata mentioned about it’s easy to have opponents, however looking for a worthy rival is on another level. And Karasuno managed to earn a rightful place as Aoba Johsai’s rival–that’s why practice match against them is something to look forward.

As usual, when the crows greeted the team once they arrived, you were the one in charge in greeting them back and show them the ropes for the day’s match. Having clicked with Kiyoko and Hitoka made it even easier–being friends with another team’s manager has its own fun, especially you’re the only female in a huge room full of male population.

That and Karasuno is a very interesting team to watch–their dynamic serv as an entertainment for you and a future reference for understanding each and every member’s tendency.

You could watch them the whole match if not remembering your duty as a manager of Seijoh.

The practice match went smoothly–everyone was all out even though it wasn’t a real deal, and the second set ended with Aoba Johsai taking yet another one with Karasuno being extremely close with the points.

“Great work,” you praised, handing over the drinking bottles you previously filled with Kiyoko and Hitoka.

“Still, the freak-combi is hard thing to handle,” Matsukawa commented.

“Yeah, the shrimp is moving much better than before,” Hanamaki added. “He’s just spiking with all his might before but now he’s really controlling how to hit the ball.”

“It goes beyond amazing to irritating,” Oikawa clicked his tongue, the grip he had on his bottle tightened.

“You said that every time.” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “And Kageyama’s really on his game today. His serves were on point.”

“Even though I hate to admit it but Iwaizumi-san is right,” Kindaichi grumbled while Kunimi’s eyebrow twitched.

“And not to mention the digs!” Watari exclaimed, wiping his neck with a clean towel. “The rally is getting longer because no one wants the ball drops.”

“’Ah, the baldy is getting on my nerves with all those straights,’” you said, glancing over Kyotani who had his shoulders tensed from the sudden teasing grin he received. “That’s what you’re thinking right, Kyotani-kun? Well, Tanaka-san is really improving his shots.”

“You sure memorized their names, senpai,” Yahaba commented. “I didn’t even know anyone else other than Kageyama because Oikawa-san keeps mentioning him every chance he got.”

Oikawa gasped, feeling scandalized with the statement. “I do not, Yahaba-kun!”

You rose an eyebrow. “Are you really crushing on Tobio-kun right now? No. I don’t allow it with those trashy attitude you have every time he’s close.”

“I’m not, [Nickname]-chan!!”

“Hands off my baby, Trash King.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said!?”

“[Name]-chan!” Kiyoko called, which made you whipped your head to face her. “I think one of the bottles are switched, can you take a look?”

“Sure!” You replied back, immediately wrapping a clean towel around Kunimi’s neck. “I’ll be back in a second.”

You jogged towards the Karasuno team, and sadly that’s when the disaster happened.

Not noticing a small pool of water or whatever liquid that is on the wooden floor, you stepped on it without knowing–resulting an instant slip for you.

You yelped in surprise–feeling gravity automatically pulling you to the ground. Every thing seemed to be in slow motion somehow and even though you realized the fall was going to hurt, you didn’t have quick reflex to really move or do anything. That’s why you decided to brace the pain.

However, it never came.

Once you opened your eyes (since when did you even close it anyway?), you’re gaze immediately met with a pair of cobalt blue and black. And the only person who had both is someone you’re extremely familiar with.

“Are you alright, [Name]-san?” Kageyama asked, eyes filled with concern and his face was quite close with yours–wait, what?

That’s when you notice a sturdy arm wrapped around your waist, preventing you from hitting the ground back first–also noticing the series of exaggerating gasps and shrieks echoing throughout the gym. Your cheeks suddenly felt as if it was on fire.

“NOOO!! [NICKNAME]-CHAN!!” Oikawa shrieked–making the two of you pulled away. Your friend of nearly eight years stomped forward and put your figure behind him, shielding you from Kageyama. “Don’t get too close with our manager, Tobio-chan!!”

“Tooru, you know that he’s helping me, right?” you pointed out. “I would’ve hit my head.”

“N-n-n-nice save, Kageyama!” Hinata stuttered, you could see his face flaming red–and it seemed infectious because Kageyama’s face turned red, as he’s just realizing what he was doing.

“Shut up, dumbass!!”

“The floor does need wiping,” Iwaizumi commented. “We should take a break and wipe all of the court.”

“Me, Kiyoko-chan, and Hitoka-chan can do that. You guys just rest.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said!?” Oikawa whined, before turning and pointing accusingly towards his whole team. “And you guys! Don’t you feel something when a boy from another team have their hands on our manager!?”

Hanamaki shrugged. “He’s saving her, nobody can get close that fast.”

“He made sure [Name] didn’t hit the ground, as long as nothing happened it’s chill.” Matsukawa added.

“I-It’s way better if Otohaku-senpai’s safe,” Kindaichi stuttered. “That’s what I’m thinking…”

Yahaba tsked and looked away, murmuring something about ‘as long as our manager is safe, but I can’t get this frustration off my chest’. Kyotani just stared straight at their weird captain with no emotion whatsoever, he didn’t see Kageyama as a threat so he didn’t need to put his guard up. Watari just nervously laughing as he didn’t know how to reply that statement, meanwhile Kunimi was looking extremely done with the drama.

“Shouldn’t we start discussing strategies instead?” Iwaizumi remarked, which made all of them moved to face their coaches–choosing to ignore Oikawa’s shriek of betrayal.

“I got the mops! Let’s wipe the floor squeaky clean, Kiyoko-chan, Hitoka-chan!”

“Let’s do it.” Kiyoko replied, smiling slightly–and you could hear Tanaka and Nishinoya gushing over her radiating beauty.

“I-I’ll do my best!” Hitoka replied.

“Can I help too?” Kageyama piped up, slightly raising his hand.

“You can, but shouldn’t you be resting?” you questioned.

“OOH! Let me join too, let me join too!” Hinata was already by your side so suddenly.

“Shoyo-kun, it’s just wiping the floor, you’re being too excited.” You replied, laughing.

Then the two proceed to made a bet on who could wipe the floor faster and cleaner. Before they jumped into action, you reached out for Kageyama’s shirt and tugged it lightly which made him turned to face you. When you’re still in Kitagawa Daiichi, the boy was way smaller and now he’s standing half head taller than you–and he’s still growing.

“Thank you, Tobio-kun. For before.”

“I-It’s no problem…”

“Don’t get too close with Tobio-chan, [Nickname]-chaan!!”

“Shut up, Crappykawa!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyu x reader #aoba josai x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hanamaki x reader #matsukawa x reader #yahaba x reader #watari x reader #kyotani x reader #kunimi x reader #kindaichi x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyu manager #haikyuu manager

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misscrawfords · 3 years

Text

3 or 4 families in a seaside town...

I get big Emma vibes from Hometown Cha Cha Cha. Honestly, kdramas in general I feel have a lot in common with the plots of historical Western romantic comedies - it's something I find very interesting - but that's a tangent for now. But this show has a very particular vibe.

The thing that most strikes me is the setting. Both Hometown and Emma rely on the location of a small town to provide the basis of its characters and plots. Both Highbury and Gongjin are almost an extra character in their importance. The nature of the small town provides a reason for the characters to be there and gives them a strict hierarchy within village life. In Highbury, the relative class status between the Woodhouses, Westons, Knightleys, Coles, Goddards, Elliots etc. is key to the plot. In the same way, society in Gongjin is also highly structed from village chief to restaurant owners to landlords to grandmas and then to the incomers who are Hyejin and Miseon, the film crew, the actors, the pervert etc.

The other aspect of the small town location that is so similar between the two works is the aspect of a community knowing everything about each other, gossip, and care. In Gonjin, gossip forms the backbone of the community's life, including making things very awkward for Hyejin while also being used as a vehicle to hint at and resolve mysteries about characters' backstories. In the same way in Highbury, everyone knows everybody's business and one of the most clever aspects of the novel is the way in which Miss Bates' seemingly random gossip in fact contains all the crucial information needed to solve the mystery of Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax. This same gossip and threat of it is also very hurtful in particular to Jane.

But both communities take care of each other and this is where parallels in characters start to emerge. In Gongjin, Dushik takes care of the whole village through his indiscriminate kindness and his many part time jobs and is consequently adopted as their child. In Highbury, Mr. Knightley as the richest and most significant landlord in the area also takes care of those in need, from sending food to the Bateses to offering his carriage to Jane. In return, he is respected above anyone else.

In both works the heroine is at least initially to some people entitled and dislikeable. Both Emma and Hyejin are snobs who believe themselves above the rest of the community and a major part of their character development is coming to terms with their mistaken thinking and reaching out to be a more worthy part of the community. Both make truly horrific public acts of prejudice and snobbery and must perform acts of genuine atonement before they can be accepted. (Insulting Oh Yoon's music in public for Hyejin and Emma's snub of Miss Bates.)

And yet both heroines have kindly intentions and are good, albeit complicated, people. Emma means well when she takes Harriet under her wing even if the outcomes are disastrous and her judgement of characters like Mr. and Mrs. Elton show her intelligence. Hyejin hides her kindness in acts she can be detached from such as giving charity from a distance. Both lack a mother in their life and have a complicated relationship with their father.

And crucially from the romance perspective, both are forced to confront their flaws by the hero who is the only person willing both to call them out and believe in their goodness underneath everything else. Dushik and Mr. Knightley have remarkably similar roles towards Hyejin and Emma despite their intial relationship being very different. Emma and Mr. Knightley have known each other all their life, after all.

There are various other parallels - the love triangle with the overly amiable rival, jealousy of whom helps the hero to understand his feelings; the way strange mysteries about the town and the characters' backstories are cleverly interwoven and revealed over the course of the plot... but I'd say these are the main ones.

I find it really cool to see such an Emma-esque narrative in a kdrama. Pride and Prejudice is such a straight forward type of inspiration (though tbh I rarely feel that things that people claim are obviously P&P inspired actually are - usually it's a short hand for "rich/poor enemies to lovers story" with little actual connection to the source material) but Emma is a bit different and whether there's any intentional connection or not, it's refreshing to see a story in this vein!

#hometown cha cha cha #emma #jane austen

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teruthecreator · 3 years

Text

sweet surprises

lord forgive me for the cringe i’m about to post. i fully blame this post and this post for planting the seeds of berdley having a crush on kris in my brain. also shouts out to izel for listening to me go insane at 3 AM about this.

anyways, here’s a thing.

______________________________________________________________

Excitement is in the air.

Unlike the usual calm monotony of life at school, things recently have been quite...electric. Not because of the portal to the Dark World hidden behind the door of the closet, or the adventures had by a select group of students through the portal in the Librarby a few days ago. No, this isn’t about that.

This is about the Sadie Hawkman’s Dance. The once-a-year phenomenon where the school puts on its best interpretation of a formal dance for the incredibly small number of students who attend class. Students buzz in excitement for the event, preparing their most formal outfits and getting ready to dazzle their friends and fellow classmates with their dramatic entrances into the auditorium.

And, of course, there’s the all important ritual of asking someone to the dance.

There’s already been a few proposals made this week. Jockington rolled into class like a hula hoop and asked Catti to be his “best bro” for the dance, to which she happily agreed. (And by that, I mean she looked up from her phone, smiled, said not a single word, and went back to typing.) Temmie loudly announced to the class that she would be taking her egg, which was somehow...embarrassed that she mentioned it. And, of course, Noelle finally managed to work up enough courage to ask Susie to the dance. It was done in an incredible display of candy canes that spelled out the phrase: “CAN(E) YOU BE MY DATE TO THE DANCE?” Unfortunately, Susie was about halfway through scarfing the display down before she realized what it said. She then began choking on one of the candy canes out of disbelief, which wound her in the nurse for the rest of the day. But, when she could speak again, she very quietly agreed to Noelle’s proposal (and, if you happened to be a fly on the wall in that room, you could hear a tail thump rhythmically against the doctor’s bench as she did so).

Kris was pleased with everything. They were happy to see their friends so happy together. A long time coming, if you asked them. And they’d be just as happy attending the dance solo, since they’ll undoubtedly be dragged along by Susie. They’d never gone to the dance before--never had a reason to, truth be told. But with their newfound friends, they may just enjoy being a wingman for the night.

...Speaking of wingmen, Berdly will probably be going solo as well. Unsurprising, but Kris makes a mental note to ensure the bird will be in attendance. As much as he is kind of a lot sometimes, he’s their friend. And Kris is going to make sure all of their friends are having fun at that dance!

They walk into class thinking of this (surprisingly early, for a change), which is why they almost miss the massive display sitting boldly atop their desk. They freeze the instant it catches their eye and, for a second, they almost believe it isn’t real. Like some leftover thoughts of the Dark World lingering in their vision. But, after wiping their eyes and seeing that it’s still there, they decide to approach and...investigate.

The display is expertly crafted by someone who clearly knows their way around a glue gun. It is a heart-shaped arch that is decorated with a myriad of printed illustrations of Super Smashing Fighters Melee characters, all having cut-outs to hold different bars of chocolate. There are also numerous origami hearts glued around the characters on the arch, in colors spanning across the rainbow. The arch is painted in swirls of blues, pinks, and reds and covered with a border of glitter that sprinkles onto the desk when Kris reaches out to pluck a chocolate bar from its perch. On the desk itself is a big origami heart that says “TO KRIS” in gold calligraphy. It is by far one of the coolest, nicest, cheesiest things Kris has ever seen.

They look up from the display to see if anyone else is seeing this shit, and that’s when it all clicks.

Because sitting at the front of the classroom, fidgeting way more than normal, is Berdly. He keeps interlocking his ankles underneath his desk before unlocking them and kicking the air, turning around every half-second or so to try and catch Kris’s reaction. From the brief moments Kris can see the front of him, they notice he’s not in his usual white collared shirt and black khaki shorts. Instead, his shirt is buttoned all the way up, with a nice blue bowtie tied around his neck. He also traded out his khaki shorts for a pair of dress pants that look to be a tad too long for his legs. He keeps reaching up to smooth out the feathers on his head, which immediately stick back up from stress.

Now, Kris may be a straight B student, but they’re not stupid. Context clues are a very good thing, and all signs point to Berdly as the culprit of this public display of...affection?

Beyond Berdly is Ms. Alphys at her desk, who shoots Kris a look of deep understanding and maybe...guilt? She looks at Berdly for a split second and shrugs her shoulders, indicating he was probably in here long before she was and so she had no way of stopping him from leaving it there.

Kris looks back down at the display and picks up the large origami heart. As they begin to unfold it, they see a sprawling letter written in the same flashy calligraphy. Kris squints at the letters--they’re dyslexic, so everything kind of just looks like spaghetti on paper. Still, they’re able to make out the largely printed question of “WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?” with no issue.

Huh, guess they won’t be going to the dance alone after all…? It’s a little confusing as to why Berdly would want to go with them, though. Like, they’ve hung out a little bit--usually whenever Berdly wanted a “worthy rival” to play video games with, he would come over and Kris would whoop his ass for a few hours. And, of course, there were the recent events in the Cyber World; but Kris is pretty sure them and Susie had thoroughly convinced Noelle and Berdley that that was all a dream. So, why them?

They’re lost in this train of thought for so long that they don’t even notice the other kids enter the room until they suddenly hear:

“Yo, Kris???????? What the heck is this thing????” Susie’s voice doesn’t startle them, but it is loud enough to get them to look up. Susie is standing next to their desk, looking at the display with genuine amazement thinly masked by disgust. She’s also loud enough to basically stop the whole class (who were all muttering amongst themselves about it anyway), which gives Kris only a second to gaze around the room before--

SLAM!

The door to the classroom slams shut, leaving one seat unoccupied.

Berdley’s.

“This thing’s got chocolate on it????” Susie continues to marvel at the display while Kris looks at the door, frowning. They feel...bad. It isn’t Berdley’s fault for trying to fit in with the other kids' proposals; he admitted to feeling like he needs to do more just to stand out enough for people to acknowledge him back in the Dark World. And this thing is really...thoughtful! The characters are all ones Kris typically mains, or ones they know Berdley mains, which means he remembers things about Kris. And the chocolate is a given, but it is nice to be able to stock their personal snack stash with some fancy stuff. Ultimately, it’s very sweet, and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for not saying anything immediately.

They turn and lock eyes with Ms. Alphys, who looks extremely out-of-depth with this situation. She makes a number of gestures from them to the door in a flustered way of saying I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on please help me Kris I know I’m asking a lot of you but I don’t know how to deal with teenage angst I’m like thirty-five. They sigh, standing up and walking past Susie (but not before giving her a stare that warns her if a single chocolate bar is gone that they will be holding that over her until the day she dies) and following Berdly out the door.

It doesn’t take Kris very long to follow the trail of labored breathing to where Berdley is--in the abandoned classroom, hyperventilating as he teeters on a breakdown. Luckily, when Kris opens the door, it seems to put a halt to his spiralling because he just kind of...freezes. Like a deer caught in headlights. Or a Berdley caught in Kris-lights. Kris takes this moment to let the door shut behind them, trapping the two in here. Together.

“U-Uhhhhh, hi--he--Um. H-Hello, K-Kris…” Berdly attempts to put on his usual bravado, but his voice betrays him brutally by squeaking and cracking on every syllable. Kris can’t help the smile that comes to their face.

“Uh, hey,” they reply with a wave. Berdley continues to stand there and stare (almost like he wasn’t expecting Kris to care enough to follow him) before the present circumstances return to his mind and he begins breathing hard again.

“I-I-I-I, uh...I was. Um. J-Just, uh. G-Getting some fresh air! Y-Yes! The classroom can be s-so stuffy sometimes, I’m sure y-you--you, uh...you agree?” Berdley makes a valiant attempt at hiding his panic, which Kris almost takes pity on. But they don’t think the monster will feel any better if they just pretend what happened back there never happened.

“Yeah. I liked the display.” Kris says simply. Berdley stands stock-straight at that, looking even worse for wear in the “being normal and completely cool” department.

“O-Oh??????? That ol’ thing????? I, um--well I just--y-you see, I--uh. Um,” You can really hear the gears in his head turning as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “I-I-I just thought you w-would appreciate the craftsmanship of!!! A t-true artisan, such as myself!!! So, I!!! M-Made it!!! COMPLETELY PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE!!!! I-I would never imply that my intentions w-were anything other than for bro-sies, i--You didn’t read that whole card, did you?”

“I can’t read,” They mean this as a joke, but they can see Berdley seriously consider this for a second too long. “Dude, I’m dsylexic. I can’t really read cursive…” Berdley freezes up once more, which makes Kris realize they haven’t really projected that as loudly as they might’ve thought.

“Oh! Right! How could I forget! That you’re! Dsylexic!” Berdley’s smile is stapled to his face as he begins to rhythmically knock on his head. “And I! Wrote! That! Entire! Note! In! Cursive! Which! You! Can’t! Read!!!” Kris steps forward in an attempt to keep Berdley from bashing his own skull in, but that only makes Berdley more tense, so they take a step back. “I-I just--The note isn’t important! None of it’s important actually can we forget this interaction ever happened okay? Okay yes that’s great have a wonderful day Kris I will be returning home to sitinmyroomandneverreturntothecorporealrealmalrightgoodbyeforeverKris--” He attempts to sidestep around Kris and out the door, but is very easily intercepted.

“Stop.” Kris grabs him by the shoulders, which seems to shut him up for a second. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Berdley gapes at them as his face steadily grows redder, which makes Kris feel as if there’s something on their face. But he quickly shakes it off, going from completely neurotic to...dejected.

“I just…” He starts, trailing off immediately. “You deserve to have a big proposal, same as everyone else. I-I see you in the back of the class, just...watching. And I, uh, felt it was time to...give you the spotlight! But that was silly of me, wasn’t it?” He looks off to the side at the floor, smiling sadly. “After all, who’d want to go to the dance with me…? I-I’m alone every year, standing in the background. Just kind of...taking it all in...and th-thinking about how it’d be...nice to be a part of it. But that’s...not probable. It was just nice to think about taking you to the dance because you’re--well, you’re nice to me, and you’re funny, and you actually listen to me when I’m talking, an-and you’re a good person and an incredible gaming legend...but I shouldn’t have put it all on you in front of everyone...I’m. I’m sorry, Kris.” He won’t make eye contact with the human, but Kris can still see the tears collecting in his eyes.

“Berdley, that’s stupid.” Kris says, which Berdley cringes at, “Why wouldn’t I wanna go with you?” That part is...not what Berdley was expecting. He looks up at Kris, unsure of where to go from here.

“U-Um…? Because of all the previously stated things? Like me being a complete loser who nobody likes?”

“I like you,” Kris replies immediately, leaving Berdley’s feathers sticking straight up as he flusters. “And I like your display. It’s...really sweet.”

“E-Even if you can’t read the note?” Berdley’s voice cracks.

“I mean, I could read the: WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE DANCE part, so, like. Yeah.” Kris shrugs. “Plus, you got me chocolate. Nice chocolate. Nobody...gets me things like that.” They smile, a light dusting of blush across their face. “I’ll go with you.” Berdley’s entire body seizes up for the third time, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“W-W-w-W-w-w-w-w-W-W-W-w-w-w-Wh-Wha-wh-w-w-wha-wha-w-wh-Wh-Wha-wh-Wha-wha-w-w-W-W-W--” Berdley continues to struggle with the word “what” for a solid minute and a half before he’s finally about to manage a: “What?!” Kris can’t help but laugh.

“I said that, Berdley,” at this, they move their grip from his shoulders to his hands, “I will go to the Sadie Hawkman’s dance with you.”

The circuits in Berdley’s brain struggle with this frequency for an extended moment before his face erupts in the giddiest smile Kris has ever seen the bird monster sport. He even begins to jump up and down, taking Kris along with him, as he cackles. It is a surprisingly cute display that Kris finds themselves blushing a bit at. It’s nice to be this...cared about.

“I-I--We have to start thinking of outfits immediately!” Berdley blurts out, returning to their usual demeanor. “I was thinking of some complimentary color schemes on the way to school today which I will be happy to show you at lunchtime. I’m also a master with a sewing machine, so if you are unable to procure an outfit that meets the color requirements, I would be delighted to take your measurements and--w-wait, don’t read into that phrasing, I just m-meant that I could make an outfit for you! B-But I’d need your measurements, and--Oh, goodness, hasn’t class started already, Kris?! We should head back, but--” He looks from the door to Kris and back again a few times before finally settling on something.

“I’lltalktoyouaboutthislaterseeyouinclassKris!!!!!” He says this right before he gives Kris a solitary peck on the cheek before bolting out of the abandoned classroom, leaving Kris blinking at the Berdley-shaped cloud he left behind. Their hand gently grazes the spot on their cheek--luckily not actually pecked by his beak, but more of a quick-kiss kind of peck--and feel their heart skip a beat.

Huh.

That’s...different.

They elect to not dwell on that feeling any longer and head back to class. They have to make sure Susie hasn’t eaten all of the chocolate on that display.

They wouldn’t want to make Berdley go through the trouble of re-proposing just so they could rightfully claim their other sweet surprise.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #kris/berdley #kris dreemurr #kris deltarune #berdley deltarune #ignorance cloud on #LORD FORGIVE ME FOR BEING CRINGE ON MAIN. I JUST LIKE THINKING THOUGHTS #LISTEN..........I JUST THINK ITD BE FUNNY. IF KRIS HAD THIS PATHETIC GAMER ALL HEART EYES OVER THEM #also the dance aspect is based on one of the posters you can see inside the school. i am Pretty sure that is what its called #if i was off by like a similar-sounding word i need everyone to do me a favor and pretend im right bc this is cringe enough already #i edited this ONCE at 3 AM last night. i am doing no more than that #anyways here u go izel enjoy ur food.

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8

18+ only

Warnings and summary - Masterlist

You can’t stand it. The anticipation is a part of the foreplay and god knows he’s magnificent at it, but you’re just propped up with a pillow under your hips and the air of the room cool on your skin —every entrance exposed for him— and he hasn’t touched you since walking into the bedroom.

You imagine ahead to the sex that will follow whatever he has in store and you know he’s watching the way you flex and pulse with wanting him.

Your hands are still bound at the wrist and currently over your head so your weight is on your elbows as you lift your chin trying to see him behind you.

“Head down,” He says and you comply. He says your name as if disappointed in you “Am I not clear with my rules?” He asks and you’re scared to answer. “You remember the last time you broke them right?”

You do, of course you do. The pain and denial followed by such a release. “Yes Baron.”

“And yet you’ve done it again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

You smile just a little and refuse to give him the answer that will save your hide. For better or worse, he is not patient with you tonight.

The resulting smack of his belt to your ass makes you shriek and you bite the duvet. Your hands are folded and you press your fingers into the flesh to get through the pain.

“Will you offer yourself like that again?” He asks.

You shake your head but raise up to speak. “I was just helping.” You roll your eyes and he can’t see your face but you’re very good at amplifying that snarky tone.

You feel the sting of not one but two slaps of the belt this time and the pain translates as anger, the emotion bubbling in your chest. “That’s not fair, I did what you wanted!” You yell.

God…why did you go and do that? Maybe because you know what will happen. He does not accept you talking back to him when you’re fully in your roles and tonight you’re having a hard time keeping the worlds separate.

Now there is an awful rhythm to his punishment. The horrible sting of the belt and you count to three in your head between strikes and try to flex your muscles to brace against the next but there is no relief.

When your shoulders shake and you’re on the verge of tears, Zemo stops.

“What is rule one?” He asks.

“No flirting.” You whisper your breath shaking your chin quivering.

“And did you break the rule?”

“But I thought… you told me to…”

He sighs. “I said to distract him, not to give yourself to him, not to let him touch you, and he did, didn’t he?”

You open your eyes looking out at the dark city skyline through the windows. “Yes.”

“Where? Where was his hand while you blew on his dice?” He says disgusted.

You look away and groan. “My ass…”

“Whose?” He asks, his voice high with the question he already knows the answer to.

You’re confused at first and don’t answer. The sharp crack across your skin snaps you out of it and you cry out but answer. “Yours”

“Say it again.” He snarls.

“Yours, Baron yours.” You insist. “I’m sorry” You gasp when you feel his hand make contact instead of the belt. One smack and then he lays his palm flat on your hot, stinging skin. “I am yours”

“I know,” His voice is in your ear and you feel a finger slide down along your glistening divide. He is breathing hard, you feel each exhale down your back as he strokes. “You’re very wet.”

You press your lips tight as you moan. “I—I just…”

“You liked it didn’t you?” He says slipping his finger in just a little

You open your eyes and look back at him over your shoulder. “What?”

“We’ll have to find someone more suitable for you to play the whore with later. Polisky is not worthy of you. Not even close. Until then, you’ll have to be satisfied with one man.” He’s been slowly adjusting his hand as he speaks and now he’s got his thumb at your asshole and his middle finger teasing your cunt.

You swallow feeling your mouth go dry.

He wants you to fuck another man?

Zemo is toying with you and the little sparks of surprise that come from being touched at both entrances make you whimper and moan. You want more…

Who would it be? This other man. He knows a lot of people, but you’re fairly certain he doesn’t have friends he’d trust with you. Maybe one of the boys from Low Town…. Just as you start to get lost in that fantasy, he pulls the pillow out from under your hips and turns you over helping bring your arms down so your hands can rest.

“Open your legs” He says and gets up.

You pull your knees up and out to make the diamond shape that he likes and watch as he strips down to nothing but his underwear. He goes and stands at the foot of the bed to look at you and you wonder for a moment if there will be pleasure or pain or both.

Even he seems unsure. You catch a glimpse of something else that has nothing to do with either of your tastes in sex and you want to pull him close, but you need to ask first.“Baron?”

He looks down at you and raises his chin in defiance to the feelings he’s keeping secret.

“May I ask you something?”

“You may.” He says.

“Are you sure you want this tonight?”

His eyes narrow. Instead of answering, he gets on the bed and lowers down, pushing your leg closed as he settles beside you.

“Want what?”

“Me…”

He smiles but it’s sad. He calls you lovely Sokovian pet names and traces your profile with his finger. “There is truly nothing I want more.”

You turn to look at him very much aware of being bound and unable to touch him. “What happened in there. What happened in Polinsky’s room. You saw something and you haven’t been the same since.”

He sighs slowly, so reluctant to say, but he does finally. “Before I came back to Madripoor, I was in prison, you know this already” He says unbinding your hands. It's unexpected but you lay there letting him. “I was—freed— by someone I have something of a past with.”

“A friend?” You feel a twinge of jealously. “Who is she?”

Zemo pauses, looks at you and chuckles. “She, is named James Buchanan Barnes, you might have heard him referred to as, the winter soldier.”

You gasp rubbing your wrists. “You know him? He’s, well he’s got a reputation to rival yours.

Zemo shrugs a little and lets the silky rope that he uses to tie you up fall to the bed beside you. “Apparently he’s a changed man.” He says and you’re very curious as to what that means.

“What does that have to do with Polinsky’s phone?”

“I saw a notification. He’s here, in New York with Sam Wilson. Captain America himself. My hunt for the serum has led them to me.”

You understand now. The Avengers or what’s left of them can’t go anywhere without people taking pictures. It’s probably on some TMZ knock off website and Zemo saw it. “They’re here for you?”

“I’m a very wanted man.”

“Don’t I know it” You tease softly and he actually laughs. “Are you afraid they’d take you back?’

“No. It’s not them I’m worried about. But if James and Sam know, then the real threat is near.”

“Who?” You ask ready to defend him in any way that you can.

Zemo runs his thumb over your lips and gently turns your head to face him. “Don’t think about it. Tonight may be all we have for a while.”

The threat of being apart makes you sit up and you go to your knees looking down at him. “No! Are you kidding? You can’t let that happen!” He seems surprised. “No! Zemo please! You have to do something!”

Why is he looking at you like that? Like you’re cute or sweet or any of the stupid things he says. You can’t stand it. “What’s that matter with you? Don’t you want to get away? Why would you give up like that!”

His eyes are fire but he doesn’t move and the way he just watches you makes you want to scream. “Seriously, why are we just sitting here? Get up, Get dressed! lets go back to Madripoor and hide”

He reaches for you but you swat his hand away which shocks him. The way he looks at you, you know that was a mistake. He grabs your wrist so hard you’re instantly missing the rope.

Zemo sits up and flips you onto your back, his hands holding your arms down. “I don’t run, I don’t hide. I make plans. And right now— this is my plan.”

“You’re a coward,” You toss out and look away, your heart racing as you try to accept that this may be the end of it.

He eases his hold on you and you dare to look up at him again. “Oh… I see.” He says very calmly, as though he’s only just realized something and sits up. “Yellow.”

“What?”

“Yellow.”

You are stunned. He’s never once used a color or a word. When he moves to the edge of the bed hanging his head you feel frantic with worry. “I’m so sorry! What did I do?” You try to make sense of it.

He glances over when you come to sit, legs curled under you at his side. “Nothing. I just need to slow this down.”

Your eyes are brimming with tears. This is not how you thought this night would end. “This? You mean me? Are you afraid of what’s happening? Not with them, the people looking for you. I mean with us? What can you see?”

He sighs and lays his hand on your thigh. “I think, maybe I’m not ready or worthy of the feelings you have. I have no business pretending to be a free man. My life is tied to my mission.”

“That’s not fair, you’ve kept me coming back to you for weeks!”

He looks up. “Yes, and it was wrong of me”

“No it wasn’t! It was wonderful. Zemo please. Don’t do this. Not now. Not here in a place I don’t know in a city that’s not mine or yours.”

He moves like he might get up, but you grab his arm. “How dare you!” He looks at you and you shrink back, but he doesn’t say a word. “How dare you make me feel this way and then tell me it was a mistake!”

He’s still just staring.

“What? Is it because you know? How I feel… You’re scared of me aren’t you” Your voice shakes with anger. “You’re scared to have someone love you again!”

He does get up then and walks to the windows.

There, you've said it.

He’s standing with his back to you and your eyes wander down the tense muscle of his back and arms lit by the lamp next to the bed. He crosses them and you want nothing more than to go and put your own arms around his broad shoulders but he’s being selfish. You can not reward that with love no matter how strongly you feel it.

“You’re still a coward if you can’t even face me. Look me in the eye and tell me again, Tell me you don’t want this."

You’re on your knees at the edge of the bed breathing hard, angry, hurt, scared… you can’t imagine having him only to loose him like this.

It feels like hours pass before he turns to you and the sight of him in the dark makes you groan softly from the absolute ache in your heart. The shadows that fall across his face only make him look more beautiful. You love him so much you could shove him out the window.

“Say it, say it and I’ll go” You whisper ignoring the tears that sparkle in your eyes.

His dark gaze is laser focused on you until finally he drops his arms and walks over to the bed.

His hand is around your throat and you grab his wrist, your eyes pleading as his go soft and he hangs his head for just a second. His brows angle down with the threat of sadness, but he squares his jaw and raises his head looking at you again.

“I want you to leave.” He says but you see his eye twitch and he almost breaks down. You know in that moment nothing has ever been further from the truth.

“I love you Helmut.” You whisper closing your two hands around his one, and he does crack then. That tough exterior didn’t stand a chance against the sledgehammer of your confession and he slides his hand away from your throat and up to your face, grabbing you by the chin jerking your forward.

“Go.” He insists.

“I’ve loved you for so long…”

“Leave.”

“And you love me too. I know you do.”

He seems furious but not with you. He’s at a loss for what to do, so he does the only thing he can and kisses you to stop himself from saying it back.

It’s a deep, slow kiss, that transfuses every ounce of pain he feels into you, and you inhale it, you suck it down wanting to free him of it. If this is your last night together then let it be a good one. “Show me.” You say, your lips still against his. He is kissing you down into the bed. “If you can’t say it, then show me you love me. Please Baron, show me like I know you want to.”

He has you on your back again and pauses, looking you in the eye as though you’ve just given him the green light. You feel a flash of fear, worried you’ve gone to far but you trust him, you know him, you love him.

Quickly Zemo grabs the black silk ribbon. “Put your hands over your head.”

You do instantly and bite your lip when he binds your wrists again, tighter this time. Once you’re secure, he sits up and opens the side table pulling out a blind fold. Its’ over your head and tossing you into darkness immediately.

He is silent again, you don’t feel him get back onto the bed and now you’re breathing quickly wondering where he’s gone. The anticipation is heightened with the truth of your love hanging low in the room.

And then his hands close around your ankles and you gasp loudly as he yanks you down over the bedding until your legs dangle over the edge. With your arms still above your head, you pull the fabric into your fingers to give yourself something to hold onto, but you won’t be needing it.

Zemo is surprisingly strong when you least expect it.

He grabs the rope and brings your arms down gently until your hands rest in a prayer like position between your breast and he pulls you up to sitting and onto your feet.

You stand there parting your lips after licking them, soothed by his light touch—his fingers trailing down your shoulders and along the low dip of your back— his hands rest on your ass lifting and squeezing the soft flesh just a bit.

When he puts an arm around your waist, you hinge forward a bit letting him hold you, the press of his thick cock at your entrance making you sway your hips a little like you want to swallow him.

The way he pushes inside is enough to make you melt in his arms. He is so slow about it. He wants you to feel every inch, he wants you to understand.

He loves you?

When he’s deep enough that your hips ache, he grabs your elbows and pulls your arms back, the rope rubbing into your skin.

Now he begins. It’s slow —long dragging pull, deep powerful push— back and forth at this speed that consumes you.

You still can’t see but of course this only makes the sensation better.

When his hold on your arms tighten, you suck your lip in bracing for it. The way he moves has your ass bouncing against his hips, and he moans deeply grabbing your own hip and thigh so hard you twist away and then he stops, pulling away.

You feel empty and confused, flexing like you’re trying to find the cock that isn’t there anymore.

Zemo grabs you and pushes you down onto the bed which makes your head spin. He pushes your knees apart and you feel too raw, too open after being fucked to lay here so exposed.

Your eyes are darting back and forth in the dark, your hands moving but unable to do much as you wait, until you feel the smack of something very small right down the center of your sensitive fold.

You cry out and realize that it's the tip of his belt. You moan and squirm fearing the pain, eager for more. You can picture it, him standing there with the strap wrapped around his hand watching you quiver and moan. Now you know why he started to fuck you. He wanted you alert, sensitive and soft to the pain.

Another strike and you close your knees only to feel the consequences as he strikes the tops of your thighs. “Legs open” He says softly.

With a whimper you do and he responds immediately letting that thick leather tap your clitoris until you’re panting, wanting to close your thighs as much as you open wider.

He lands a few more sharp flicks over your wet skin but when your moans change to true pain he stops and the room is silent except for you and the sounds that follow his attention.

When his mouth unexpectedly finds your pussy, you smile and sigh. He’s good with the transition from pain to pleasure and back again.

He licks your silky skin until the sting is soothed. He sucks your clit until you’ve all but forgotten about the spanking. He buries his face in the wet fold until you’re rocking your hips against his beautiful face and on the verge of climax, but he stops again.

That was just to prepare you. He unbinds your hands once more and you relax your arms.

“Move back on the bed.”

“I can’t see” You try.

“Move”

Obediently you turn and crawl back up towards the head of the bed a little hesitant, but you feel the pillows welcome you in and relax as you turn onto your back.

As you start to settle, Zemo is there, not giving you a second to get your bearings. Your legs are shoved apart and he spears you with an urgent momentum. The size and length of him taking your breath away for a second before you cry out, but it’s the good sort of scream. The kind that sends him over the edge and he proceeds to drive into you so hard, the bed moves away from the wall.

You thought he’d always fucked you hard, now you know better. This is the sort of deep penetration that will mark you as his.

He suddenly rips the blindfold off and your eyes open wide to find his bright with that fire you’ve only seen glimpses of before.

His hand slides along your thigh and under your knee which he lifts, bringing your leg up. He glances down to watch and you moan, knowing what he sees —you, tight and pink and stretched around him as he grinds into you so hard you can’t even moan— you can hardly breathe.

When you feel it start to build, you look up at him distracted by the muscle of his shoulders and chest as he moves. “Baron—please—may I come” You beg knowing you must always ask first.

“Yes” He growls and draws back to buck into you until your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Come” He says your name gazing down at you, his eyes steady as his body moves.

You press your head back into the pillow feeling the swell. Zemo lets go of your leg but you keep your knee bent and close. He cradles your face lowering to hover close with his open mouth grazing your own and you feel him getting harder. “Come for me,” He commands and slides his hand under your head lifting just enough to hold you so close that when the first wave hits and the contractions make your walls tighten and your clitoris throb, you feel any barriers between you fall away.

You realize he’s watching you, waiting as he feels it happen around him and then as your strongest pulse hits, he turns his head just enough so that his whisper is loud in your ear.

“I love you.” He breathes and watches you come.

You inhale as he exhales, shut your eyes and let your world implode. You don’t release —you devour. You chase the sound of his voice that has just said what he swore he couldn’t just as desperately as you try to prolong the orgasm that accompanied it and then he lets his head fall to the curve of your neck on the pillow and moans against you as every muscle in his body flexes. Another soft moan escapes him and you smile as warm ropes of come are shot into your belly with each pulse of his rigid cock and he clings to you like you are the one person who might save him from himself.

Your arms slowly close around him, you never want to let him go. You would do anything for this man, and you already have.

When he pulls back and you look at one another, he is the one to speak first.

“This was not a part of my plan.” He says sounded happily defeated and exhausted.

You grin and smooth his fallen hair from his eyes, your heart beating so hard your breast shake as you gaze up at him. Your Baron, the man you let claim you from the moment he first said hello. You feel him still hard inside of you and you’ve been in this position before —so many times— but never like this.

“Yes it was.” You say closing your eyes and his lips meet yours and your arms close around one another, content to stay this way a while longer.

_____________________________________________________________

Captain America and the fucking Winter Soldier. Scratch that. Apparently it’s just Bucky, or James if you’re Zemo.

But you’re you, and you’re in over your head yet again.

Sitting in your seat on the plane you go over everything in your head one last time —driving here, finding them waiting, Zemo inviting them on the plane in exchange for his continued freedom— you thought he’d lost his mind but the way he looked at you as Sam and Bucky boarded, you realized he knows exactly what he's doing.

Now it’s late, You’ve been flying for hours and soon you’ll touch down safely in Madripoor which is exactly where all three of these men need to be.

Apparently the card Zemo found on Polinsky had the Power Brokers logo on it. Zemo is angry that he’d missed the clues before this, but is happy that he and in turn Sam and James are on the right track to finding the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers. While they are not friends, currently you're all on the same team.

Still, you think it all sounds dangerous, but no more so than life normally does.

As far as your new traveling companions, well, Sam is actually funny. You like the way he doesn’t tolerate Zemo’s shit. He’ll make a fantastic super hero you think with a sly grin.

But Bucky... James.

He makes you smile in a different way.

Yes, you love Helmut, you feel it in your bones you care for that man so deeply, but Bucky stirs things you that you have to force yours to ignore. His smile which he doesn't give easily makes you want to break the rules. When he talks you lean in, somewhat awed by his vintage charm and stoic reserve. Not to mention that metal arm that you keep eyeing.

When you wake up and see him quietly looking out the window as you fly through the night, you get his attention and strike up a reserved, but easy conversation. He may be the enemy but not so much so that you can't pass the time. You quietly chat while Zemo and Sam sleep and you realize not only is Bucky cute —cute? No he's classically handsome— he's actually a nice person, which is a real mind fuck as you had every intention of giving him and Sam the cold shoulder the entire time. He does after all want to take Zemo from you once they're done with him.

He also seems to be judging you a bit for your relationship with the man they call a terrorist, but you don't mind. Your love is unconventional in many ways. Bucky picks up on this and leaves it alone, but he does a poor job of not making a face when you talk about your life with Zemo when he asks how you ended up here.

You laugh at the way he eyes your sleeping Baron only to realize Zemo isn't asleep at all. He's watching you, both of you and the look on his face is a warning. You assume it's because you've broken rule one, even though you did try very hard not too.

"Go and sit in back." Zemo tells you.

You bow your head and unbuckle, quietly doing as you've been told. Just before you pass him completely, Zemo catches your hand and pulls you down to kiss you and asks softly. "Are you wearing them?"

You bite your lip but nod. "Yes Baron."

"Good," He strokes your face with the back of his hand and you almost continue to your new seat, but he turns his hand, gripping your face and pushes his finger into your mouth. He gives you a look and you know what to do, no matter how humiliating. You suck him just a little as he turns to look at Bucky, as if to show the former solder exactly who you are.

His.

When Zemo pulls away, you press your own fingers to your lips, surprised but excited as you go to the lonely seat in the back and wait, knowing it's only a matter of time before you're forced into an orgasm that only Bucky will be able to see.

The poor man looks confused to say the least, he can't grasp how you, a grown woman, here of her own free will could suddenly become this silent and submissive thing that does as the Baron says, but when Zemo looks at him, and you can practically sense the exchange between the two men, Bucky looks you in the eyes with the first real smile you've seen on his face, and you know that he will understand soon enough.

I know, that was a long one. Thanks for sticking around. Hope you enjoy!

@fictionlandslanddreams

#baron zemo fanfiction #zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo #declarations of love #zemo smut #light angst

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sky-of-dusk · 3 years

Text

Fun fact : Kyouya cares more geniunely about Ginga than Hyouma

The Beyblade Metal Fusion episodes taking place in Koma focus on Ginga, primarily. They show to his friends and to the spectators how he had spent his life before his quest for vengeance. But these episodes also stage a new rivalry, between Hyouma and Kyouya. What's new, with this rivalry, is that it's not about Beyblade, but about the right to be Ginga's rival. It highlights two different relationships with Ginga, because Hyouma and Kyouya don’t interact with and don’t care about Ginga the same way.

To prove what I state with the title, however, I have to go back some episodes earlier.

After Ginga succeeds to make Kyouya come to his senses, after the Wolf Canyon, Kyouya shows sign of empathy for his new friend rival :

“Something is happening to him.” (english dub)

“Just what happened to Ginga...” (japanese dub)

- episode 13, when Ginga is fighting Ryuuga

“It's no use. (...) That battle with Ryuuga was important. More important than we can possibly understand. When he lost it, then his spiritwas broken. (...) He has to deal with it on his own.” (english dub)

“It might be impossible. (...) The fight with Ryuuga probably held some great meaning to him of which we have no idea. Losing this fight is breaking his heart. (...) He has to do it himself.” (japanese dub)

- episode 14, when Ginga isn't able to launch Pegasus anymore

“So that's Ginga's story.” (english dub)

“Ginga went through all that...” (japanese dub)

- episode 15, after Kenta tells the others Ginga's past

Reaching Koma and Ginga

On their way to Koma, the gang meets Hyouma, who tries to stop them to reach the village. Kyouya is wary of him, seeing he's lying, but he doesn't expose him right away. He gives to Hyouma the benefit of the doubt, collects proofs of his treachery (showing he had already evolved since the first episodes) and only then he shows the rest of the group Hyouma is deceiving them.

Once Hyouma’s intentions are revealed, Kyouya challenges him but Kenta, and then Benkei steal his fight. When it's his turn, Hyouma chooses to ignore him (to take revenge because Kyouya was the only one to doubt him and see the truth behind his false-friendly behavior ?) and begins to present himself as Ginga's childhood friend.

In the next episode, when Ginga is facing his trial to be a blader again, Hokuto tries to prevent Ginga's new friends to catch up with him. Kenta, Madoka and Benkei hesitate, but Kyouya doesn't let Hokuto decide for him :

“We can't just stand around here doing nothing. Let's go help Ginga. (...) I don't care if it is a sacred place. That has nothing at all to do with us. I'm going.” (english dub)

“Just twidling our thumbs won't do it. Let's go after Ginga. (...) Holy ground or whatever, that doesn't concern us. Let us go.” (japanese dub)

- episode 17

This time, Hyouma sides with them. But he's shown ambiguous : it looks like he doesn't truly want them to succeed. He allows himself some contemptuous remarks, and doesn't accompagny them to meet Ginga.

With Ginga at Koma

In episode 18, we get the first moment between Ginga and Hyouma. Instead of witnessing their friendship, we see there is a gap between them :

Ginga : You never change, do you my good buddy ?

Hyouma : The village have just changed completely and so of you Ginga.

Ginga : Really ?

Hyouma : Well, since you're back now after such a long time, want to check out of the forest together.

- english dub

Ginga : You haven't changed a bit, have you ?

Hyouma : The town has changed quite a bit, though, huh ? And so have you.

Ginga : Huh ?

Hyouma : Since you came all the way back home, tomorrow, let's take a walk in the woods for old time's sake.

- japanese dub

Ginga is happy to see again his childhood friend, happy to see he's the one he remembers, but Hyouma doesn't share his feeling : he reproaches Ginga for having changed. Well, Ginga had witnessed his father being killed and had to travel alone during months to stop his murderers and their organization. How was he supposed to stay the same carefree child who was raised in Koma under these circumstances ? Plus, he spent months discovering how the world was beyond their little and isolated village.

Hyouma changes the subject before Ginga has the time to register his remark. He doesn't want to take the responsability for his words and thoughts, and rather acts like nothing had changed, smiling.

He suggests a tour of the village, hoping Ginga will leave his friends to stay only with him. He's hurt when Ginga gets enthusiastic about the prospect of showing them where he used to live.

When they begin their tour of Koma, Hyouma hides what he thinks of Ginga's new friends’ presence, acting like he is pleased to be with them, but always implying he knows Ginga better than them. The first time Kyouya shows off his Beyblade skills, and the gang is acting like a fanclub (they are all : "he is so great !" xD), he gets offended.

After Ginga does the second training exercise, we’ve got this dialog :

Kyouya : So you've been training like this since you were in diapers. Hmmm. No wonder you've become strong.

Hyouma : It's one of the lucky things about growing up in Koma village. There is no real subsitute for experience, is there Kyouya ?

Kyouya : ?

- english dub

Kyouya : This way you've been training naturally since you were a kid. Of course you'd be strong.

Hyouma : That's the privilege of being raised in Koma Village. There is nothing you can do about that distinction, is there ?

Kyouya : ?

- japanese dub

Kyouya is beginning his I’m-having-the-cool-quotes-because-I-understand-everything attitude, playing his rival role... And Hyouma starts to provoke Kyouya, belittling him because he wasn't born in Koma (Kyouya can hardly do something about it) and implying he would never reach the level of Koma-born bladers. You can see Kyouya is shocked by Hyouma's attitude toward him.

Then, we get another dialog, showing the difference between what Hyouma says and what he thinks (the complete opposite), showing again the contempt he feels for Kyouya :

Hyouma : You never back down, do you ? I see why Ginga takes you so seriously.

Ginga : You bet !

Hyouma, thinking : But no matter how hard he tries, there are some things he'll never do.

- english dub

Hyouma : Pretty competitive, isn't he ? I see why you approve of them.

Ginga : Yeah !

Hyouma, thinking : But... no matter how hard he tries, there are some things he can't do.

- japanese dub

A brief aside

This is character bashing, really. As much as I enjoy the scene where Kyouya is shocked because Hyouma ignores his challenge (certainly the first time ever someone is so casual about him xD), in fact, Hyouma decided arbitrarily to dislike Kyouya. He doesn’t like Ginga’s friends, either, but he hounds Kyouya :

- he accepts Kenta’s and Benkei’s challenge, but he turns down Kyouya’s.

- he speaks little to Ginga’s friends, but he makes snide remarks to Kyouya whenever he has the opportunity to.

- he launches him contemptuous looks when no one else is watching.

Back to episode 18

When the group reaches the Green Hades, Hyouma finally drops the mask :

Hyouma : The time has come for Ginga and I to have a serious battle.

Benkei : Why are you talking about ?

Hyouma : Ginga and I battled in this very stadium many times when we were little kids. Rain or shine, we'd always come here to compete so, you see, I know him better than anyone else. If I battle with Ginga here, I can tell if he has truly recovered or not. You guys have just become friends with him so you can't tell. After living together in this village for so long, I'm the only one who can tell how he is !

Everyone : ?!!!

Hyouma : Ginga, as your true rival, I will test you right know.

He confesses Ginga and his new friends what he thinks : since he's the only one who knows Ginga (though he reproached Ginga to have changed), they can't be considered as his friends, let alone as his rivals. The only point that truly annoys Kyouya is the moment where Hyouma says he's Ginga's only rival, implying Kyouya is nothing to him in Beyblade. Benkei and Kenta are annoyed too : they have accompanied Ginga during his adventures, battled him, and suddenly they aren't worthy of him ? Kyouya "calms down" the game by ordering to Ginga to accept Hyouma's challenge. During the battle, he shows he believes in Ginga's victory, no matter the advantages Hyouma takes. He even reminds the others he used a similar advantage with the windy stadium, talking about his defeat. I want to stress it out : Kyouya reminds them he had LOST. Kyouya Tategami ! Only to show them Ginga is able to win this duel.

Kyouya : Winning means more because it's a difficult stadium. Have you all forgotten ? The windy stadium. My Leone had the advantage there because of wind but Ginga never backed down. (...) No matter what disadvantage he faces, he won't run. That's the Ginga I know. But it really bugs me that Ginga beat me but has never defeated this guy. Come on Ginga ! Defeat him right here, in front of all of us.

(in japanese, he says : That's the Hagane Ginga I know. However, I don't like that he's beaten me, but hasn't won against him yet. Leave him in the dust and let me see how you win !)

Ginga : Yeah, count on it. I'm gonna show you that Pegasus and I are back in top.

However, it is shown that Kyouya is the one who, at this point of their life, knows Ginga best. He guesses when his rival is about to launch his special move (and is very happy to tell Hyouma about it xD - a little revenge for Hyouma’s attitude and for having fallen twice because of this special move). Then, at the end of the duel, Hyouma is shocked to have lost. He doesn't understand how anyone can have the idea of destroying the stadium to win. And Kyouya thinks :

“Ginga would. You gotta think outside the crater sometimes.”

But he doesn't tell it out loud. He doesn’t show to everyone he understands Ginga better. As soon as the duel ends, Kyouya considers there is no more reason to argue.

Then, Ginga is congratulated by his new friends for his victory. He’s proud and happy among them, and Hyouma says :

“I guess I'm of no further use to you anymore. Please, continue to improve with your new great friends. I'm sure you will.”

This sentence looks too much like emotional blackmail for my taste... Anyway, Hyouma takes out this idea out of the blue, like it goes without saying and everyone agreed about this before the duel. Ginga gets shocked, not understanding what Hyouma is talking about, then Kyouya comes to them.

Kyouya : He can have more than one rival, you know.

This sentence is said by Kyouya, who will go as far as Africa to be able to fight Ginga. Despite Hyouma's attitude, Kyouma wants him to resume seing himself as one of Ginga's rivals.

The Survival Battle

Then, Hyouma and Kyouya meet again during the Survival Battle. Once more, Hyouma tries to dodge fighting Kyouya but Leone's blader spots him. They have to battle and, after some struggles, Kyouya wins. Despite this, Kyouya tries to cheer up Hyouma, telling plans don't always work as expected (he knows something about it xD). And he doesn't understand why Hyouma is so dispirited.

Hyouma : I changed the performance tip and it wasn't as stable as it normally is.

Kyouya : Plans can be flawed you know.

Hyouma : But there's another cause behind my defeat.

Kyouya : Huh ?

Hyouma : I have to give up the right to battle Ginga. Yeah. For today, but the next time we battle Kyouya, it won't end this way.

Kyouya : So you say. I'll battle you anytime.

At first, I thought : "This is a great moment of sportmanship". But I rewatch this scene, and rethink about it, and does Hyouma's words imply that he expected Kyouya to stop being Ginga's rival if he had lost ? I know if Kyouya had lost, he wouldn’t have been allowed to resume fighting during this tournament. But Hyouma says they’ll have to face each other to decide who will have the right to face Ginga the next time. He's still in the same state of mind he was when he met Ginga’s new friends, at Koma.

Comparison of their attitude

During their stay in Koma, Hyouma spent his time pulling the blanket to him. He doesn't truly talk about Ginga, but about his place : he is Ginga's childhood friend, he lives in Koma, he is the only one who deserves to be his rival... He reproaches Ginga for having changed, doesn't give him a word of comfort for all he came through. He is jealous of the friends he makes outside Koma, instead of being relieved he wasn't completely alone all the time he was away. He tries several times to prevent them to be with Ginga, wanting to have him for himself. The duel wasn't about seeing if Ginga was all right, but about showing to everyone he is Ginga's true rival, that the others don't count and can't expect to matter. Even when Ginga wins their duel, he goes toward the group to talk about himself. He's shown as very self-centered, thinking more about himself than about his friend. He considers if Ginga is friend/rival with him, he doesn't need anyone else.

Kyouya, on the contrary, is here for Ginga. He tells and retells it. He watches how Ginga had spent his life before meeting him, doing remarks about this (but not about himself). He shows he can do what Ginga does, and he's pretty happy of himself when he gets compliments, but he doesn't try to take credit all the time (sometimes he does, of course, he’s still Kyouya Tategami and Yuu gives us a perfect sum-up of his personality at the end of Fury). Kyouya lets Ginga having most of the foreground since they are in his home. He believes in him. He doesn't bear grudges against Hyouma for his attitude and even pushes him toward Ginga twice (once when Hyouma lost against Ginga in episode 18, once when Hyouma lost against him in episode 21). He tells three episodes after the episode 18 he only cares about defeating Ginga, because they are rival, so it is certainly in his mind right then, but he doesn't utter a word about it during the Koma episodes.

Maybe what I’ll add is an extrapolation, but I think Kyouya doesn't want Ginga to loose anything more. Ginga already lost his father, quited everything he knows to chase the Dark Nebula, spent months alone (with only Pegasus for company),... so he can't loose his childhood friend too (the only person left from his past, someone who should be like family).

#mfb character analysis #comparison of characters #kyouya character analysis #hyouma character analysis #hyouma #kyouya tategami #ginga hagane #ginga and kyouya

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